As I got older, it still irked me when people had discussions about anything I didn't know about: No longer life and death, but mundanities like the name of Led Zephlin's drummer (presuming he had one) or that episode of Sienfield. Not that I ever gave rat's ass about those things. Still, I had a residue anxiety about not knowing.
Of course you can't be in the know about everything. You have to be selective. I selected what I thought were the important things. Inspired muchly by Lazarous Long's warning that "Specialization is for Insects" -- I studied on how to deliver babies. How to raise vegetables. How to survive a nuclear attack -- a distant one, at least. Fortunately I've only had to do one of those (so far).
But what I'm getting at is, it has been a lifelong drive and deep intention of mine to be in the know.
You could say it is my underlying lifelong intention.
I still don't know or care who Led Zephlin's drummer is. But there is so much that is important that I will pursue to the ends of the earth... universe... inner source... until I get it. Meditation is the fast lane in that pursuit. Yet strangely, it seems I must write down insights immediately or they flit away. (Huzzah for journals and blogs.) Then I must deliberately practice it or I forget that it was ever important to me and I find myself sleepwalking again wondering where all the goosebumps went and why I had them in the first place.
Practice. Practice. Practice. Right? Gotta be intentional and deliberate and mindful. Mind Full. Gotta keep the strings moving or the puppet just hangs there.