Not Knowing Is Most Intimate
Can you break the spell of certainty?
At the threshold of change, we often crave clarity. We want to know the outcome before we act and map the path before we walk it. But Zen teacher Dizang reminds us: "Not knowing is most intimate."
This phrase comes from the Book of Serenity, Case #20, where the Zen teacher Dizang asks his student Fayan, “Where are you going?” Fayan replies, “Around on pilgrimage.” Dizang then asks, “What is the purpose of pilgrimage?” Fayan answers, “I don’t know.” And Dizang says, “Not knowing is most intimate.”
To not know is not to be lost, but to be close to life as it truly is. The mind that releases its grasp on certainties begins to perceive the subtle contours of what is emerging. In not knowing, we meet the world freshly, without filters, without defense.
Thresholds are inherently unknowable. They are not destinations but crossings. In this space, old maps fail. The invitation is not to retreat into planning or prediction, but to become intimate with the present—so intimate that we sense what rises before it takes form.
Thresholds are inherently unknowable.
Yet there is still planning at the threshold. Not the kind that charts fixed steps or locks in outcomes, but a more subtle form—planning as inner orientation. It is preparatory rather than predictive. We ask not "What will happen?" but "What must I cultivate to meet what may come?" This planning is more like tuning an instrument than drawing a map. It is the quiet work of readying ourselves—clearing, sensing, attuning—so we do not distort what is about to emerge.
This intimacy is not passive. It’s active attention, listening with the whole body, and courageous presence in the face of ambiguity.
In times of transition, not knowing is a stance worth honoring. Staying near, open, and attuned may be the most connected we can be.
And now, the threshold extends beyond the personal. The emergence of new intelligences—still unfolding and largely unknowable—makes this way of being more than an inner practice.
It becomes a collective condition. Not knowing is no longer something to overcome; it's the very ground we share. How we move within it will shape what comes next.