The Art of Sitting in the “Not Knowing”

One of the practices I return to again and again—both in my teaching and in my own life—is the simple act of welcoming curiosity.

When I’m guiding a nature journaling class, I often invite participants to write down any questions that arise as we explore: Why does this plant grow here? Who made these tracks? What is this bird doing?

The purpose isn’t to find the answer right away. In fact, the goal is the opposite.

Letting curiosity expand

When we give ourselves permission to simply wonder, something beautiful happens. Our curiosity begins to bubble up and expand. We become more present, more open, and more receptive to the world around us.

The brain loves a question—it naturally starts searching for clues. With more time observing, and a bit of quiet attention, answers often reveal themselves--but we need to resist going to an app on the phone to snap a photo for ID. That will surely dampen the curiosity and deflate the joy of discovery.

But even when the answers don’t reveal themselves right away, the practice still works its magic.

When we open to playful curiosity- “hmm, I wonder if they always grow this way?” or “wow, what birds might be attracted to that?”-we allow a spark to ignite. You start to see more- and the extraordinary in the ordinary is soon revealed. You may learn something directly from your observations that you'd never learn in a book or in a lecture.

A big part of this process is learning to get comfortable with not knowing the answer for now.

This is tricky for many of us. We’re conditioned to have or come up with answers now, to make plans now, to stay in motion. To search the internet or plant ID app on our phone for that satisfying answer.

Sitting in the unknown can feel uncomfortable, even vulnerable. But it’s also where possibility lives. It’s where our deepest listening starts. This is the magic where we begin tuning into the whispers of nature.

The teaching reflected back at me

The other day, as I was about to share something personal with a friend, I realized I needed this reminder myself.

I’ve currently been in a period of intentional rest—my personal winter- and pulling back from the momentum of overworking and giving myself space to replenish. Instead of pushing forward, I’m allowing my body and mind to settle, making time for what brings me joy, and trusting that clarity about my next steps in my work will return when I’m well rested.

I have evidence from my past experience, when I allow for rest (physical, creative, social or mental rest), I return refreshed and feeling more creative and clear minded. Solutions and ideas flow with more ease.

And yet… part of me keeps wanting to know–what will come after my rest?

Where is this rest leading me?

Will I really be okay if I allow myself to rest instead of continuing to make progress working?

Can I really trust this “not knowing for now” thing? 

Am I being responsible by slowing down?

Then it struck me: This is the very practice I teach in nature journaling.

Just as we sit with a question in our journal—without demanding an answer—I can sit with the question in my life right now.

 I can be in playful curiosity and let the not-knowing be spacious instead of stressful.  I can allow rest to do its quiet work, trusting that life will reveal the next steps in its own timing.

Living the question

“Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves" ~Rainer Maria Rilke

I love how this reminds me to be in the moment. It might even distract my mind- by focusing on the curiosity instead of focusing on getting the answer. 

When we practice being with a question—whether it’s about a bird’s behavior, a shift in our careers, a change in relationship, or a season of rest—we learn to trust the unfolding. We learn to stay open and present, even without a clear map.

It’s not always easy. But it is deeply freeing.

Because the outcome isn’t the point. The real medicine is in being here now—curious, aware, and willing to meet the moment just as it is.

An invitation

The next time you’re in nature (or moving through a transition in your life), try this:

• Notice the questions that arise.

• Write them down—without trying to solve them.

• Let the curiosity live in you, gently.

• Practice being okay with not knowing for now.

• Stay open to the small clues that appear when you slow down enough to see them.

You can so some Spark Journaling around this.

• After you write your question, go out into nature- or gaze out the window into nature.

• What catches your eye-- sparks your awareness?

• Go toward it and check it out. Do a contour drawing or simple scribbly sketch to help focus.

• What do you notice about this part of nature? What is it showing you?

• How is this related to your question?

• Write down whatever pops into your awareness.

You might be surprised by what reveals itself when you give your questions room to breathe.

If you're curious about how to expand your nature journaling into Spark Journaling, join me for an online live work session or workshop.

Slow Down. Be in the moment. Allow for playful curiosity and not-knowing for now.

I'd love to hear about what you discover!