#19 - The Unknown
#19 - The Unknown
This article discusses:
Post-surgery story
The power of not-knowing
Tell me about you.
Good morning beautiful humans,
In my previous article, I wrote about going into surgery with uncomfortable feelings and a few fears. Today, I’m writing to you only a few hours after the operation.
All went well.
I’m home now, sitting on my couch. My beautiful cat is purring beside me, her body is soft and calm. She looks at me with that deep, knowing gaze cats have. She’s relaxed, and so am I.
P.S: When I first wrote this article, my beautiful cat Tiga was still alive. She passed a few months later. Read Story #15 to know more about her.
At the hospital, I was given a room for the pre-surgery check-ups. The first thing I noticed was a painting on the wall. I’ve always believed that things appear for a reason, and this painting was no exception.
The first name that came to mind was The Unknown.
It showed a walking path through a foggy forest at Mount Lofty (near where I live). The scene felt almost unreal, supernatural: thick fog and big trees I felt drawn to; as if the forest was inviting me in. I felt both scared and curious. Somehow, I knew it would be alright. I felt safe.
That morning, I received full anaesthesia. I surrendered completely. I was placing my trust in a team of nurses and an anaesthetist I had never met. My surgeon, wonderful as ever, held my hand as I drifted away. I didn’t even have time to count backwards (or is that only in Grey’s Anatomy?)
After the surgery, once I was brought back to my room, I noticed the same painting again. And I understood: it was there to remind me of something deeper.
I’ve often shared how necessary it is to welcome, accept, and even embrace the unknown - or how I call it the invisible, the uncomfortable, the shadows - they are all part of our growth. And here I was, living it fully: a first surgery, a first full anaesthesia, a moment of total surrender.
That morning, I made peace with the mystery. I accepted the unknown, and I went forward with it. I let go of expectations and fears, placing my trust in others. I placed trust in the process, my body, and the Universe itself.
The painting became my quiet teacher.
Even now, days later, I’m still reflecting on its lessons:
That it’s okay not to know.
It’s okay to trust someone else.
It’s okay to never have all the answers.
I don’t need to be in control all the time (and truthfully, I can’t be).
Afterwards, I felt something unexpected. I felt a sense of relief. Even comfort.
“I did it!” I thought.
So let the unknown sit beside you. Pour it a warm cup of coffee.
Listen carefully to its stories.
Now, Tell me about you.
How do you experience the unknown?
How do you react to it?
How do you care for yourself when not knowing feels too heavy?
How much space do you allow the unknown to take in your life?
I’m sending you pure and genuine love, filled with light and warmth.
Take care of your whole self, each other, and your community.
Nurture and be mindful of the natural world around you and within you.
Written 18/04/2024
Published 27/10/2025
