Why is not knowing so hard for me? There were technical questions about lymph nodes and blood cells I needed answered. Michelle is asking me to give up wanting to understand what is happening inside of her. My suspicion is this is hard for me because “knowing” is comfortable. It makes me feel safe, grounded. She confronted me with her request, looking directly at me and speaking pointedly to me. I sat across from her feeling like I was inside a bubble—hearing her words yet knowing I had no idea what she was saying. The only thing that came to me was, “This feels like being up against my chief feature.”
Chief Feature
Chief Feature is each person’s individual core trait. It is the fault-line between personality and essence. When chief feature manifests through personality it reveals our central weakness. With work and presence, it becomes our greatest strength. Bennett described it as the shade of tinted glass that we see the world through. Impossible to see one’s own chief feature, we can only get to know it by our other senses. For instance, the sound of my voice when entrenched in my chief feature, the “taste” that arises at those moments, the feeling of missing something that is being conveyed.
Don’t Ask
Mr. Bennett suggested once that it was better for me not to ask questions. But more than acquiring knowledge, questions are how I relate to the world. I often feel like I don’t understand and to understand I must ask. Like I’m grasping for pieces of a puzzle to put them in place which is satisfying because it feeds my sense of self. My brand of chief feature keeps me from seeing this for what it is—false personality. The things I’ve really grocked have come from somewhere else, like an infusion. Often a result of silent pondering.
Yet I don’t know how not to ask questions. A long-time friend in the work suggests the practice of “I do not know.” I remember a Turkish TV series about Yunus Emre, a Sufi poet and mystic. His sheik tasked him with answering everyone with “I do not know.” I’m beginning to get it.
This is Work
This is real personal work for me. The kind that rubs against the grain but means the most. Can I do this? Can I stay open and blank in front of my fears and emotions? In front of losing the safety of feeling life is secure and knowable? Can I do the work of staying open and blank— of allowing? Of being available? Not thinking about not knowing but dropping into not knowing.