#189 – What makes uncertainty so hard to handle?

This morning, while doing my 20-minute writing practice, I stumbled upon the fact that uncertainty is making me suffer. I'd noticed how I had engaged in "escape" activities such as:

• Looking for houses to rent in Portugal (in case we run out of money for our project, two years from now)
• Looking for jobs (in case my writing plans don't pan out)
• Looking for things to buy (in case I come across some extra money)

On my first ski trip with the school, we went to the French Pyrenees. Near San Sebastián, the bus driver took the wrong turn and when we arrived in the village where our lodge was located, several hours after schedule, it was pitch dark. The bus got stuck in a narrow street, and that, for 10-year-olds at the end of a 12-hour bus ride, was the tipping point.

Kids started jumping from seat to seat, some crying, others laughing hysterical. Natalia Alvarez left her teeth imprinted on my shoulder – she couldn't handle the bundle of nerves wringing her ribcage.

That's how my 10-year-old self is feeling these days. She seems to be shaking me by the shoulders, very close to biting me – I want to know!

Why? What would certainty give me?

In reality? Nothing. Certainty about the future is as illusory as uncertainty. Because the future doesn't exist and nothing that pertains to it is certain – except for death and taxes.

I could be certain that I would have the money to pay for the house (as I was three months ago), and then something happens and I need to spend north of $100K in legal fees. A black swan event, something that no one saw coming, was unlikely to happen, and created chaos.

The thing about chaos, though, is that it gives birth to crises, and any crisis is a moment of choice. In a way, then, chaos forces us to examine our trajectory and decide how we'll continue – which door will I choose?

So, instead of bracing for impact, I can just open my arms to embrace it. Sure, the crash will likely destroy me (or my life as I knew it), but I will be able to rebuild myself (or my life) using my human innate anti-fragility.

Anti-fragility* describes the ability of a system to rebuild itself after it's been destroyed, making itself more resilient and intelligent than it was before because the destruction revealed its weak spots.

That's why, knowing that whatever happens is exactly what I need (even if I don't understand or desire it) and chaos and destruction are in my best interest, I can happily walk into uncertainty, and enjoy the ride – even if I have to scream my gut out!

What uncertainties do you need to ride now with eyes open, even if they scare you?

Love,

Carolina

*Term and concept developed by Nicholas Nassim Taleb.