When staying at the edge of uncertainty, most of us will immediately try to get to a place of certainty. It makes sense! We are creatures who need a purpose and know where we’re going.
It’s been very difficult for me to have this place of certitude since I’ve been preparing to leave for New Zealand: between the house, pets, COVID, and the whole passport and the visa situation, it’s been ridiculous. I am at the edge of uncertainty.
When things feel chaotic and overwhelming, we look for a system that will feel ordered and simple.
All of us do this in most areas of our lives. Sometimes, we can voluntarily stay uncertain, but those times are relatively rare, and we usually don’t like it so much because it’s messy and dramatic. It messes with our brains because we lose track of what we should do.
Here’s the thing: the edge of uncertainty and chaos is where we learn, grow, create, lead, make incredible art, and write amazing stories and new inventions.
“Uncertainty is the only certainty there is, and knowing how to live with insecurity is the only security.”
– John Allen Paulos
The edge of uncertainty is where we explore, go on adventures, get curious, and reinvent ourselves.
The edge of uncertainty is where we can find unexpected beauty, love, intimacy, vulnerability, meaning, and purpose.
Everything we truly crave is at the edge of uncertainty, but we run from it.
I say the “edge of uncertainty” because most of us are unprepared to be fully in uncertainty without some kind of ground under our feet. We need some certainty, some safety. Without it, we feel like we’re spinning out of control.
When our lives become untethered, we need some ground to stand on—at least one foot on the ground, just enough to bounce back. When we’re lost in depression, anger, or trauma, we need to feel the ground of our basic goodness, of knowing that others are with us.
So I don’t recommend letting go of all certainty. Let your life be primarily stable. It is more comfortable, but letting yourself go to the edge of uncertainty can sometimes open your horizon.
It’s the place where you’re learning but not completely lost, where you are exploring but not free-falling. Where you’re creating something new, but not without some grasp of what came before you.
Stay at the edge, and then let yourself rest in some kind of comfort and joy.
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