What questions would I ask of anyone who was enlightened and what could I say to these questions?

Here is what occurred to me:

What do you really know? 

I live one thing.  This one thing is an outlook, a place I view things from.  This one thing has eclipsed my unknowing.  I have a definite, certain grasp of this word, ‘know.’  The more competently or fully I grasp a thing—like carpentry, painting and martial arts—the more completely my effort to encapsulate this thing in words fails.  I am it, more and more.  I think this is a simple thing.  How can you know what I know?  There are probably people exactly like me out there who I’ll never meet, but who would easily understand and know what I know.  I’ll probably meet almost everybody in my life that isn’t like me and consequently, they won’t understand or ‘know’ (recognize) what I know.  The odds exist for this and everything in between.  Anything will happen and won’t.

I Remember Everything

Seeing my boys in the distance on the rope swings under the tree, turning my eyes to look back down at the hole I was digging.

I remember the times that I didn’t tell you I loved you.

I remember not hugging you.

I remember forgetting what was important.