nowledge is power.” Coined by Sir Francis Bacon in 1597, I have always found this phrase to be personally significant. It is an expression, or perhaps a mindset, that is universally used to emphasize the importance of knowledge and how it can be used. Hence, I focused on gaining knowledge through formal education, reading, traveling, etc., and was easily impressed with people who showed great knowledge. Not surprisingly, I valued knowledge accumulation as the most beneficial pursuit. That pursuit gave me the certainty of "knowing" things. I knew where I stood on various issues of the day, and I found myself comfortably arguing for my stance. I knew my political positions and was able to defend them with certainty. That certainty gave me a sense of power, which I believed helped me achieve success at home, as well as at work.

Being certain, however, began to feel like a burden as I reflected on what I knew. When I moved to Australia from Alaska, where I was engaged and confident in my work in community development, I had the opportunity to consider what was going to be my new and next form of engagement. It was then that I realized that I needed to understand my field of interest more deeply and that I might be confusing knowledge with learning. I knew many things about building better communities, but was this knowledge driving assumptions that could be preventing me from learning? The answer made me pause.

nowledge is power.” Coined by Sir Francis Bacon in 1597, I have always found this phrase to be personally significant. It is an expression, or perhaps a mindset, that is universally used to emphasize the importance of knowledge and how it can be used. Hence, I focused on gaining knowledge through formal education, reading, traveling, etc., and was easily impressed with people who showed great knowledge. Not surprisingly, I valued knowledge accumulation as the most beneficial pursuit. That pursuit gave me the certainty of "knowing" things. I knew where I stood on various issues of the day, and I found myself comfortably arguing for my stance. I knew my political positions and was able to defend them with certainty. That certainty gave me a sense of power, which I believed helped me achieve success at home, as well as at work.

Being certain, however, began to feel like a burden as I reflected on what I knew. When I moved to Australia from Alaska, where I was engaged and confident in my work in community development, I had the opportunity to consider what was going to be my new and next form of engagement. It was then that I realized that I needed to understand my field of interest more deeply and that I might be confusing knowledge with learning. I knew many things about building better communities, but was this knowledge driving assumptions that could be preventing me from learning? The answer made me pause.

So, with the hope of learning about community wellbeing governance, I enrolled in a higher degree research program at the University of Queensland in Australia, and I learned very quickly that my knowledge was the least useful asset I possessed. The deeper I went into my area of research, the more I began to doubt what I knew. It was the beginning of the dismantling of my belief in the power of knowledge. Each day I realized that the more I depended on my knowledge the less I learned. Slowly this uncertainty seeped into every aspect of my life where I simply didn’t know. I didn’t know what I believed in, where I stood on social or political issues, or what was or wasn’t the right way to be. This was unsettling, as the very foundation of my confidence and sense of power was shattered and I didn’t know where I was heading.

As someone who has been personally and professionally engaged in political issues for most of her adult life, suddenly not knowing where I stood, which side of the political divide I supported or even who was responsible for various social issues was painful, to say the least. This pain came from my belief that one must stand for something, and therefore I must know which side of the political spectrum I supported. I was alive to what was happening, but I did not know how to address it. I would see people confidently taking positions, participating in what they believed in and having the confidence and knowledge to do so, and I felt helpless. I had no other option than to simply be in this stage of not knowing and understand what was going on. Thankfully, I gradually began to see how not knowing was making me learn in ways I never did before.

What happens when we allow ourselves the freedom to not know? That freedom lets us grow and develop into people who can see the contradictions inherent in any issues we might address or consider. When we know, we take a stand on either side of right wing/left wing, prolife/prochoice, development/sustainability, integration/identity, etc. When we allow ourselves to not know, we become open to seeing issues as they are — complex, interdependent and unable to be resolved from a reductive position. Perhaps it is even possible to hold opposite perspectives at the same time. For example, do we want to be a socially strong society where everyone comes together as one, or do we want a culturally strong society where everyone is seen as a unique individual with their own ethnic and cultural background? Is it either or both?

Many of us feel like societies worldwide are becoming more polarized and more intolerant of others. When we express that opinion, we sometimes do not see that we are adding to the polarization by holding on to our side of the pole. We seldom think of walking toward opposing views to see if we might learn something. We don’t do that because we know better. Now, imagine if we suspended our knowledge and tried to learn why others have differing views. Where would that lead?

Of course, not knowing is not the same as being ignorant. It is, in fact, the opposite. Not knowing makes us active and open-minded learners who are free from the burden of prior knowledge, whereas ignorance simply prevents us from learning. Now, there is also a growing trend to label someone ignorant simply because they do not agree with our point of view. I am not using that label here.

I believe that our dependability on knowledge prevents us from seeking to learn and grow from new experiences.

I am also not advocating against knowledge, only that we shouldn’t depend on it so much that it prevents us from considering the opposite of what we know as relevant. Similarly, we cannot be in the constant stage of not knowing, as that would be paralyzing. Being open allows us to challenge our prior knowledge and enables us to consider contradictory perspectives.

I have benefited from being in the stage of not knowing, and it has given me a new lens to see and understand the world around me — a new way of being. We humans are constantly evolving and continuously becoming with each experience. I believe that our dependability on knowledge prevents us from seeking to learn and grow from new experiences. The knowledge we acquire gives us certainty, but being uncertain lets us grow. We need to have both without being too dependent on either. So, I invite you to consider one issue that you know about and suspend that knowledge for a while. The opening created may turn out to be the catalyst that results in improved understanding. It was for me.