Du musst dein leben andern.
So this is what it is, not to know. To advance, iris blind, arm extended, palm vulnerable. To use the senses not as a crutch but as a confirmation, to draw maps and legends where everything is unmarked and there are no borders. Realize that confinement is physical and that what kills is not the battle, but the sense of defeat. Realize that the earth is flat until we discover it, that existence is a wonder until we cage it.
This is settling into the fact that what is buried as knowledge will never incite further exploration, that what we assume to know well will never breathe amazement into our bodies. This is throwing away expectations - that the tamed will still be teachers, that they still encompass novelty, still exude intrigue. It’s one thing to be disappointed by discovery, but being too comfortable with what we have and what we know to pursue a search is a far heavier burden, weighed down by all the stifling unanswered questions. Imagine existence without thirst, a satiated life, complacent, settled. Imagine the purpose then.
Discard certainty to find the leap no longer measured in units of distance, but rather resilient to the expansions of the mind. Discard the idea that being borderless equates to not having a vertebra. You must change your own life -- find the body trembling, in fallibility as much as in vigilance; find the compass nested inside the ribcage, driven by pulse.
Not to know. It is what it is, which is to say that there is no alternative route, which is to say that faith is a force stronger than circumstance (and circumstance is safe but faith is exhilarating).
Not to know. To advance, irises stunned by luminescence, arms unafraid, palms towards the sky.