What's wrong with not knowing?

In seeking, there was always something to be known. I needed to know if I was on the right track, if I had the right idea about these concepts, and what I would be like when the search was "all over." If there was the notion that I couldn't know something, I would feel very threatened. The things I knew, became belief systems. I believed in religious teachings, I believed "I'm not the doer," and I believed that I'm not here. Every time I "knew" something, life would come along to show me that I really don't know. Everything I took on board, was thrown out, since it wasn't mine to hang onto in the first place. Right now, I don't know what's happening. I never did, in fact, but my knowing created my suffering. I put my knowing against your knowing, and I knew that I had to know better! When I knew who I was, with the mind, I was always in danger of losing my precious self. I don't know who I am anymore, in the sense that I used to. There's no identity to cling to, and no identity to get rid of. I see children playing, and they don't need words to know who they are. I used to pity them, because they didn't know. Then I used to envy them, because I was tired of all my knowing. The mind "knows that it knows something," but it can never know happiness or peace. What's wrong with not knowing? The mind doesn't like it, but it never knew, anyway.