"I don't know" is an acceptable answer
The power of uncertainty in a world that praises knowing-ness
Last year, I went through massive life changes — I got engaged, made a huge career shift, and moved across the country. My change “chips” are still falling into place and I don’t know exactly what the next year of my life will look like.
I’m in ambiguous territory. And lately, I’ve often found myself answering, “I don’t know” to questions about my future.
Where do you see yourself in 5 years? I don’t know.
Are you in Austin for the long term? I don’t know.
When I was younger, I would have equated this un-knowingness with a lack of vision; I now see it as humble curiosity.
With endless information at our fingertips, we live in a world that values certainty and quick answers, even when those answers are not well thought-out or true.
We see this with political and business magnates — speaking out of turn and commenting on topics they know nothing about. On social media, we shame people for not having quick responses to current events that they may need to process and develop an informed opinion about. In our personal lives, we often equate having a plan with having our lives together. In reality, rigid opinions and plans stem from limited knowledge and experience.
We are all doing life for the first time — when we obsess over certainty in our plans, we close ourselves off to the beauty and wonder of the unknown. And we attempt to control outcomes that are not in our hands. This leads to frustration and feeling like we’re “behind” in some way.
1) Infinite possibility lies on the other side of ambiguity.
When I think back to all of the good things that have transpired in my life, I recognize they arose from moments of tremendous uncertainty (e.g., moving abroad, meeting my partner, getting dream job offers).
All of these moments were preceded by a strong intention (or what ancient yogic wisdom calls a “sankalpa”). But I had to let go of my attachment to the outcomes of my actions in order for their fruits to ripen.
Every spiritual tradition reminds us that we should only focus on what we can control, and let the divine cosmic order allow our chips to fall where they may. While this is beautiful in theory, it is often hard to implement.
The most helpful reframe I’ve found is — “What if I let go and it turns out better than I could have ever imagined?” I am limited by my knowledge and experience of what I deem to be possible. By letting go, I allow novel possibilities to emerge.
2) You don’t need to know everything about everything.
In a world where we have access to more information than we can digest, at a pace faster than we can comprehend, mindfully choosing what to focus our attention on feels like an act of rebellion.
In our current social media landscape, we are expected to have an informed (or shall I say, palatable) opinion about current events. We feel an artificial sense of safety when someone we interact with parasocially agrees with our views, and we feel offended when someone in our echo chamber doesn’t say the “right” things. We forget that while some of this is well-intentioned, some is just virtue signaling, whether we like to admit it or not.
While we owe it to ourselves and the world to question our views and stay informed about what is going on, it is not realistic or authentic to have a deeply nuanced take about everything.
It’s okay to say: “I’m still learning.” “I’m looking to specific experts to learn about this issue.” “I don’t have a fully informed view yet but I’m open to chatting about it through constructive dialogue.”
3) How might you treat your life like a science experiment?
Not knowing is not the same as not trying or not having a vision. On the contrary, it is good to have a strong intention or resolve. It is important to take steps towards the life you want to achieve. But it is also important to not get too attached to the answers you seek.
I like to think of my life as a science experiment — I have some hypotheses I want to test. As I go about testing them, I learn new things, change course, and craft refined hypotheses. I love the process more than I love coming to definite conclusions.
Each hypothesis I craft starts with a question. I live from a place of curiosity, rather than certainty. The only certainty I have is that I will figure things out, no matter what.
I hereby give you permission to dance in the unknown! Notice the relaxation you feel when you let go of the tight grip you have on your idea of what must be true. Notice what happens when you engage with the interplay of possibilities.
Keep noticing what’s coming up, and the clarity you seek will emerge.