I have come to know a good deal about the disease multiple sclerosis (MS). I’ve attained something nearing expertise at living my version of my best life with the disease. I have also learned much about telling our stories about MS to our community and to the greater world. I don’t know everything — but I know enough.
Of all the things I have learned over these years of living with and studying this chronic illness, the most important may be when to use the words “I don’t know.”
A Defense as Much as an Admission
More than just when I actually haven’t the answer for which I’m being asked, those three little words can be as much a defense as they are an admission.
When I’m asked by a person a ring or two outside of my closest pond ripples what I might think of this cure or that treatment they just read about on a random internet search, “I don’t know” is a great response. What I’m really saying is that I can’t be arsed to even know what the heck he’s talking about. But what it sounds like is more, “I’ll have to look into that.”
That’s a fairly easy use of the phrase that so many see as showing a lack of knowledge, rather than being the show of strength that it is.
I used to tell my students on the first day that they could ask me any questions related (even tangentially) to the subject of the class. If I didn’t know, I would find the answer for them. If I couldn’t find the answer, it would become a class assignment. That way, they learned the answer, or I would, or we all would.
“I don’t know” led us down some interesting rabbit holes and impromptu, semi-Socratic sessions.
The Various Meanings of ‘I Don’t Know’
As I have passed the midlife (of both my life and my life with MS), I have to be acutely aware that such an answer as “I don’t know” can come across as “I don’t care.” Sometimes, of course, I don’t care. But it’s a rarity when that’s what I really mean.
“I don’t know” is a statement of strength. Not, perhaps, in one’s knowledge, but surely in our belief in ourselves and who we have come to be. It takes great fortitude to make such an answer when the world around us adores perfection and moves away from those unable (or no longer willing) to strive for it.
Sometimes “I don’t know” is an invitation to tell me more. Other times, it’s an exasperated exhale of the weight of it all. On some occasions, “I don’t know” is the beginning of a thought process (which may lead to a blog like this).
Important to remember is that “I don’t know” is not a surrender to someone else’s facts or opinions. We don’t acquiesce anything when we admit (mostly for ourselves) that we don’t have all the information required to establish a position.
When I Recognized the Power of ‘I Don’t Know’
A number of years ago, my niece and I were cooking — something about which I do know a great deal — together. She asked me about this and about that and then about something else. I responded with scientific, cultural, and personal answers. At one point, however, I had no firm understanding with which to give her a reply.
“I don’t know,” I said.
She stopped dead in her preparations and said she’d never heard me say those words before. It got me thinking that I’d better stop being the know-it-all uncle, but it was also a proud moment when the pupil began to ask for more than the teacher could give.
It also made me understand the power of those three little words, and I began to use them more. More for my own good than others, but I think it’s done all of us a favor.
Wishing you and your family the best of health.
Cheers,
Trevis
