A place called Dunno.

Australian’s are renowned for their abbreviations, for the shortening of words that have become synonymous with our lackadaisical approach to life.

We are proud of this.

You need only google Aussie Slang to discover the vast world of abbreviated terms, that have fundamentally altered our language, well before the time of Steve Irwin – Crocodile Hunter.

Arvo, bottle-o, bludger, brekky, Macca’s, mozzie, chook, chuck a u-ey, are but some of our joyfully altered words, mostly confounding those attempting to immerse themselves in the culture.

Recently, however, I have discovered a comfort in the thought of this commonality, a shared understanding of language, unique to my corner of the world, but there has been one word, in these past few days, that I could not let go of, that gave me pause for contemplation.

Dunno.

Simply translated Dunno, means I don’t know.

This place that I arrived at came to mind when in a moment of reflection, in the sanctuary of space and silence, when I was able to breathe, to shrug my shoulders and sigh, 'I just dunno.'

Of all of the meetings I had had that day, parents, staff, students, trustees, builders, neighbours, I realised I had given little thought to the context of each, this being that I just did not know as people stepped into my space, what they were carrying with them, what challenges they had in their lives, what was making them feel a certain way.

It is a study in itself, the way people enter into my office - some dance, some skip, some storm, some slide - Kramer himself would struggle to keep up with the relentless swinging of the door.

But I realised as I sat in the silence, that this moment was an arrival of sorts, the end of a long road trip, I had turned left at empathy, and right at openness and arrived, contentedly, in the place of Dunno.

We all have a choice in how we treat each other, no matter what the situation is. But if we try to move our mind to the passenger seat, to the alternate view, to the other side, to the different mirror, we are able to perhaps make more meaning - to contextualise that because we cannot see what others see, how they see it, or how it makes them feel, we can be more accepting, more empathetic, more patient, more kind. ?

For we just Dunno.

And in not knowing, I realised, I needed to open my heart more to understanding why it is they could be feeling this way – not because it is my job to do this, but because it may provide for me the space I need to understand why they might be frustrated, or why I shouldn’t see the tension as personal.

When we arrive at the place of Dunno, it is a truly liberating moment.

Because it fundamentally alters how we see other, the road becomes straighter, the air becomes lighter, the light becomes brighter.

If, in my mind I can forgive someone for yelling, for not trusting, for accusing, because I just don’t know what is happening in their life to make them feel this way, then I can better understand, and I can empathise, I can be at peace and calm, I know, will arrive.

This does not mean one should accept ill-treatment, conversely, it means one should be able to work together to understand the other, and to arrive peacefully at a conclusion, because we just don’t know.

Life is fragile - as we age, we know this to be even more true.

How we treat each other, how we see each other, how we work with each other, is important.

How well we do this will often be determined as much by what we don’t know, as what we do - and this is the place of Dunno.

And so, as I start this day, calmly sitting in Dunno, I am open to the challenges ahead and the connections that I make – because in not knowing, I am able to have real empathy, and this, is the greatest super power of all.