I know that I do not know.
It's the one thing that my mind thinks it knows for sure.
Say what you want about me -
Lord knows you're likely right! -
but that I don't know...at least I know that.
Grace would have me blessed with an ever-growing "don't-know" mind.
It is a mind that finds its strength, and has its home, in the present moment. It is a mind that approaches life as would any good student: with the innocence and earnestness of a child; one who takes nothing for granted, makes no assumptions, and holds no cherished beliefs of how things are. It is a mind that arrives open and willing to be shown the way. It is a mind that relies on its intelligence to emerge in the present moment as needed, and not a moment before. It is a mind that knows that it does not, and could not possibly - know anything, eternally, for sure.
It is the kind of mind that begins to come about naturally, once all that it's believed itself to be, has been seen clearly through.
For the mind is but a stream of thoughts, mistaking itself as a constant and actual entity. It makes sense; thought after connecting thought say it's so. Thought after connecting thought seem to offer it the proof that continues to hold the supposed entity in place. But when identity is "discovered" to be the still awareness of the Now, the mind/ego's mistaken nature is seen for what it really is, and it's then robbed of its agenda - the futile attempt it makes at defining, controlling, and meddling in the non-existent past and future. When the mind sees that it's no longer the omniscient commander it had fancied itself to be, it's free then to serve the present moment. It's free to root itself and rest in the now, jumping to action only when needed, only when called by life, in the present moment. It can see its own limited, phantom-like nature - and that in the alive, ever-present Now, it literally knows nothing.
All that one can ever "know" is what Presence itself is Being.
And no mind - were there such a thing - could even begin to touch that.