Our words have rich histories. Inside those histories lie oft overlooked secrets to our beliefs and values, and to ourselves.
To be with know – that is what the adverb “conscientiously” means. We have adapted the definition over the years, adding layers to it reflecting the importance of responsibility and morality in our lives. But to be with know, in fact to be “with thorough know”, that is where the meaning of acting with conscience is grounded.
This awareness brings me comfort. If you’re anything like me, you may have had times when you requested or even prayed for guidance. Help me understand. Tell me what it is I should do. The fictional character Pinocchio had Jiminy Cricket by his side. I have, at many times, longed for my own cricket, guardian angel, or spirit guide. Even if I didn’t heed the advice, it would be nice to have it, to hear it, to receive the counsel of a greater good pulsing through the world.
The external world offers many insights and supports. We exist in this world, breathing its air, exchanging its energy, finding our place in its motions and flow. Oddly, and somewhat miraculously, the arc of human years begins with separation and cycles through a series of swirls to reunion. Young people struggle for or are thrust into independence. Older folks long for reconciliation and interdependence. Along the way, each of us bounces into and over the sometimes self-constructed bumps and potholes of our unique paths. I tell myself that my destiny is of my own making. And yet I sense – deep within – that this is not necessarily so. We seek and receive signs. Then we question whether those communications are real, whether we are overindulging our mind’s creativity within a universe that is more random than it is purposeful. We languish within confusion. We doubt.
Ah but listen. Feel. Hear the know that is within.
Somewhere along my life line, I realized that I had, instantly and always accessible, a thorough know, a conscience. This does not mean that I believe that I understand the universe, its creator, and the meaning and miracles coursing through my days. Not at all. With age comes uncertainty. And my uncertainty grows with the years, a tree with outstretched branches filled with missteps and mistaken memories. Rather, there is a reassurance within that supersedes my ignorance, a stabilizing influence that is ready to aide if and when beckoned. I have my own Jiminy Cricket. He is an older version of myself, this ethereal presence, a conscience at the end of its human breath, a perspective on now that offers acceptance and peace during moments of sadness, strife, and instability. This other me has the type of know that thoroughly finds solace in the release of doubt to vulnerability and, dare I say, faith. My guide is certain of nothing except its own limitations. My thorough know is the balm found within these limitations. It is this breath, and this one. This heart beat. And this one. This joy from shared love. And the next one that awaits.
This morning a butterfly as large as my face floated across the bushes in my front yard. I watched it, mesmerized, then trusted an instinct to photograph it and send the image to my sister who was, at that precise moment and without my conscious awareness, sitting, two thousand miles away, next to the grave of our parents. While magic fluttered past me, a beautiful monarch moved past her as well. And there, within that moment, my sister had been speaking to our mother.
My intellect would try to explain what happened and what it meant. My “thorough know” wordlessly observes and bears witness.
Our world is awash with know. May your days find restoration in its soothing showers.