It's Okay to Say I Don't Know

Murray River, Berri, South Australia

Sometimes it’s good to sit and people watch. I’m at a park, and I’ve been observing a couple and their dog. I could write a lot about the people I see, about this couple in front of me. I could say she was wearing a pink shirt and her hair was shoulder length, and he wore glasses and jeans, and I would be exactly right. 

But I can’t tell a single thing about their personalities, their past, their hopes and dreams and talents, likes and dislikes. I could guess she likes pink, but maybe that’s the only pinks shirt she owns. I could guess they like dogs, but maybe the dog I see is a friend’s. I could guess they’re wealthy, I could assume they’re traveling through from the coast; I could presume they’re husband and wife. But I don’t know.

I would like to know things. I would like to have all the answers. I would like to never be awkward when someone asks me a question and I’m not sure what to say. I would like to have inside information on the latest happenings. I would like to be able to discern what people are like and why they do what they do. 

I think it’s human to want to know. It gives a sense of power when someone has a question and we have an answer. They have a need and we have a solution. Sometimes we like to think we are a solution. It’s healthy: it gives us drive to research and learn, to give and help others in need, to have compassion and empathy. But it’s something the enemy likes to zone in on and attach worth to. If you have the answers people will always need you. If you have witty comebacks, you’ll be popular. If you have the information someone needs you have power. 

We fall into attaching our worth to our knowledge or ability. If I never have anything juicy to add to the conversation, I must be a boring person. If I don’t know what to say, I must be dumb. If I’m not up on the latest news, I must be inferior to everyone else.  

Or, we make up or exaggerate information to get the self-esteem boost we crave. It feels good to be able to add a tidbit to the conversation, to say something that gets everybody listening for more. There’s a sense of power in knowing something no one else does, and choosing when to release it in order to get the best reaction. It becomes a habit to glean and put information together, stretch it here, presume there, and have a good story to tell. 

But I want to zoom out. We are so much more than what we know or how much we have to contribute. We can’t judge ourselves on one isolated event. Often, the juicy information we love isn’t about things or places, it’s about people. And people have hearts and feelings, and just like the people I saw this morning, we know very little about them. There are many thoughts and feelings each of us never share; we can very rarely be one hundred percent sure when we talk about others. We can’t give the context; we can’t know how they feel or how it meshes in with their past or dreams for the future. That’s the point. We don’t know. And that’s okay.

So, don’t feel like you have to amass knowledge in order to have worth or fit in. Don’t feel like you can never be somebody unless you know something. Don’t feel like you have to earn people’s favour by gossiping. Our worth and value isn’t up to us to decide. It’s already been shown when ultimate love and perfection decided to trade places with us. 

And please, don’t forget we’re all people, and it’s really, really, okay to say ‘I don’t know.’