I Don’t Know Means I Don’t Know

One of the oddest things since I’ve been back in Boulder is that a couple of people . . . only 2 who have told me, anyway, had the idea that my class was a year long.

No.

Class was ONE WEEK.

I just didn’t want to spend a week in class morning & night and not stay in Ireland, my first ever trip off the North American continent and not stay a little longer to see what was there.

What I had was an intuition that I *MIGHT* be able to stay for 2 months to a year if I found something to do there.

I didn’t.

I had 6 or 7 leads and several other vague ideas, none of which materialized.

So, I came home.

It’s funny what people hear when I say “I don’t know.”

I admit I follow it with possibilities.

What is truest most of the time, maybe even all of the time, is that “I don’t know” means “I don’t know.” 

Maybe it’s a different way of living that what most people do.

Love,

Stacy

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