What is more of a bore than knowing a person so well that their reactions to everything under the sun are predictable? You know automatically what their opinion will be on any subject and therefore you do not bother to discuss anything. Indeed, such a predictable person is very vulnerable, because anybody whose habits are completely predictable is, as Don Juan told Carlos Castaneda, easy prey.

Always be surprising and, furthermore, surprise yourself!

The only way that you can be truly irregular is not to know yourself, in your own head, what you are going to do next. This is as Jesus taught. He said that everyone who is born of the Spirit is like the wind which blows where it wills, and you hear its sound but you cannot tell where it is coming from or where it is going. He also advised his disciples that when they were going to speak they were not to think in advance of what they would say, but just wait for the Spirit to give it to them.

(Naturally all clergymen are trained to prepare their sermons carefully in advance!)

It is the unknown that is profoundly scary to most of us.

We fear that God–that is to say, the ground of our being, the energy which we all express–should remain unknown. We fix on all these images of one kind or another, whether it be male or female, light or dark, and we know very well that what is essential to us cannot be gotten at, and that worries us.

To abandon ourselves peacefully and truly in a surrendered way to the possibility of death, to the nonexistence of our memories, of our egos; to flip over from isness to isnotness; to yield to the feminine, which we gladly do when engaged in sexual intercourse, something very closely associated in all symbolic history with death: These are steps that cause us much anxiety.

We are once fascinated and horrified by this thing that we are that we can never know, never control.

We thus come into the presence of the God who has no image.