@ Jé – yes, it can be tricky — but so important — to infuse knowledge with more questions… and therefore, more imagination. I don’t ever want to think that I understand it all…

@ Paul – thanks for those references… keeps me reading and learning more!

@ stationarypilgrim – thank you for coming by here! I agree, relationships create a certain space that allows things to unfold in a different way…

The beauty of ignorance. Definitely, it is beautiful beyond measure. This is Rousseau. The first essay that launched him into writing was a eulogy for ignorance, a tirade on education and knowledge. It was for the noble savage. I think to crusade for anything like this takes courage and knack.

This is Ambrose Bierce, though in a twisted way. According to him love owes its existence for not knowing. The aura you see your beloved engulfed in is a product of your not knowing. Her mother is still seeing only a suckling.

George Steiner has also seen the demerit of knowing. He takes God to task not for commanding his faithful servant Abraham to sacrifice and immolate his son Isaac. But for burdening him with this knowledge for three days on the long trek to the venue of the sacrifice. He says no! God should not do that. Carrying this knowledge for three days is fatal. He also does not think he relieved Abraham by sparing Isaac, but made it look like school yard prank.

What I mean is you have a point.

Keep on writing.

Thanks.

I think that there is a lot to say for that certain innocence one holds when they are unaware of the terrible nature of some experiences. In these instances, ignorance can be bliss, as long as the crucial human ingredient – empathy – is not absent from the equation. If the experience is too terrible or terrifying, the trauma of knowing can be an anchor of sorts, fixing one to that moment in time, isolating them from the present. That can be very sad to witness.

The other beauty I note is from the imagination that comes with not knowing. The mystery. The fantasy. All of this is lost, even though discovery can be the more desirable option. I wrote a poem about the loss of mystery as an undergrad. Here’s a snippet:

“With knowledge dies the sweet ideal
Of all the dreams there’s yet to live,
In the sacred realms of fantasy.
I know you now, and you know me,
Stripped naked to our very souls,
And knowledge says: there’s much to lose,
In knowing.”

This post was mentioned on Twitter by waltpascoe: “The Beauty of Not Knowing” @zoewesthof ‘s thoughtful meditation on oral history and barriers to comprehension: http://bit.ly/4DLc0I...