Life is frequently an exploration of unknowns, and that’s one reason so many hold onto “certainties.” If you get up during the night to get a drink of water, you probably don’t turn on the lights to make your way to the sink. It didn’t move while you slept, and you’re sure of that because you mentally mapped the route many times. The process entails no exploration because you are on familiar ground with its geometry unaffected by opaqueness.
You need the certainty provided by many “knowns.” Otherwise, you could not step onto a floor. “Will this floor hold me?” “Will it hold me now?” “Now?” You can’t ask that question every moment if you want to do anything else. Instead, you see a floor, and you step onto it. Inference begets freedom to explore, and map memory takes you to studied points of departure. At every moment you stand at the end of a memory map. The next step down an unknown hallway, however, requires inference. “Let’s see what lies at the end of this corridor” is not a statement you would make if you were unsure of the corridor’s floor. Yes, you need some certainty; we all do.
Seeing provides certainty, we think. In a flat universe, we suppose that our line of sight is true, that triangles have the same number of degrees that we learned in math class, and that much of our world is transparent. Uninterrupted lines of sight, a familiar geometry of place, and transparency all provide assurance that the world of today will be similar to the world of yesterday. The “knowns” tie what we have seen to what we expect to see in the “unknowns.” But at times our certainties, both large and small and at unexpected times and places, seem to vanish in an unmapped hallway or room. It’s as though someone moved the sink, and for good measure, made the floor creaky. “Should I step on this? It appears to be solid, but….”
In the light, we all find ourselves in an ironic position. We can see, but are often lost. No, I don’t mean you’re lost in your neighborhood, on the way to work, or around the workplace. Instead, we awake daily to the unknowns of relationships, both new and old, to accidents, both harmless and harmful, and to detours, both minor and major. Most people in relationships expect the sink to be in the same place everyday.
In fact, in relationships the “sink” does move, making it difficult to find even in the daytime. Sometimes, the floor creaks, also. You haven’t stayed the same, have you? Why expect those around you to stay the same? Facing unknowns can be difficult, but since everyone faces them at some time or another, isn’t exploring as a team better than bumping into an unexpected wall in the dark or hesitating to step on a creaky floor? Relationships constantly change overtly and subtly. Those you love are also wandering around in the unknown darkness as they look for something that once seemed to be in a familiar location. They will probably welcome your company in their explorations. Now, go find some new place to get a drink together.
You need the certainty provided by many “knowns.” Otherwise, you could not step onto a floor. “Will this floor hold me?” “Will it hold me now?” “Now?” You can’t ask that question every moment if you want to do anything else. Instead, you see a floor, and you step onto it. Inference begets freedom to explore, and map memory takes you to studied points of departure. At every moment you stand at the end of a memory map. The next step down an unknown hallway, however, requires inference. “Let’s see what lies at the end of this corridor” is not a statement you would make if you were unsure of the corridor’s floor. Yes, you need some certainty; we all do.
Seeing provides certainty, we think. In a flat universe, we suppose that our line of sight is true, that triangles have the same number of degrees that we learned in math class, and that much of our world is transparent. Uninterrupted lines of sight, a familiar geometry of place, and transparency all provide assurance that the world of today will be similar to the world of yesterday. The “knowns” tie what we have seen to what we expect to see in the “unknowns.” But at times our certainties, both large and small and at unexpected times and places, seem to vanish in an unmapped hallway or room. It’s as though someone moved the sink, and for good measure, made the floor creaky. “Should I step on this? It appears to be solid, but….”
In the light, we all find ourselves in an ironic position. We can see, but are often lost. No, I don’t mean you’re lost in your neighborhood, on the way to work, or around the workplace. Instead, we awake daily to the unknowns of relationships, both new and old, to accidents, both harmless and harmful, and to detours, both minor and major. Most people in relationships expect the sink to be in the same place everyday.
In fact, in relationships the “sink” does move, making it difficult to find even in the daytime. Sometimes, the floor creaks, also. You haven’t stayed the same, have you? Why expect those around you to stay the same? Facing unknowns can be difficult, but since everyone faces them at some time or another, isn’t exploring as a team better than bumping into an unexpected wall in the dark or hesitating to step on a creaky floor? Relationships constantly change overtly and subtly. Those you love are also wandering around in the unknown darkness as they look for something that once seemed to be in a familiar location. They will probably welcome your company in their explorations. Now, go find some new place to get a drink together.
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