Exploring uncertainty

'”--so long as I get SOMEWHERE,' Alice added as an explanation.

“’Oh, you're sure to do that,' said the Cat, 'if you only walk long enough.'”

- Lewis Carroll

(Image by Sven Lachmann)

I’m almost five months postpartum, but it still amazes me that I am not pregnant..

I got so used to being pregnant that it felt like a permanent state. But of course, nothing about it was permanent — things change so fast. The whole time, you have no idea how things are going to turn out. Will I make it to term? Will I have a vaginal delivery or a C-section? Will I be okay? Will my babies be okay? Who are these people in there, anyway?

The entire experience is an exercise in coming to terms with uncertainty — or, at least, accepting it.

A lot of us really don’t like uncertainty and will vigorously avoid having to encounter it. We’d rather stay in a job or relationship we don’t like than look for a new one. We stick to our usual in a restaurant or café. When making a decision, we go with an okay option instead of holding out for a great one. We just want to be done. We want the questions answered and the plot points resolved neatly.

To be on the other side of pregnancy is instructive. I did it. I made it through the uncertainty to the other side. I found out how the story ends. Each of the loose ends was tied up. It is a lesson in “this, too, shall pass.”

Of course, that story has only been replaced with another one, also full of uncertainty. Will this sleeping baby startle awake the second his head touches the owl-bedecked sheet of his crib, or will he stay asleep and give mama a break this time? Will I find time to do a couple of critical tasks tomorrow? Will I even find time for dinner?

I guess I could have kept my life simple and boring in order to reduce uncertainty, but that’s not really the point of life, is it? So I find myself leaning into the challenge of it, exploring the ongoing, murky decision trees that are constantly remaking themselves in response to my actions.

Economy of effort requires that I not think too far ahead. Once, a few colleagues and I had sent off a proposal and were figuring out next steps. “Okay, let’s get together and talk about what we’ll do if they respond with yes,” said one person on the team.

“No way,” I said. “We’ll wait to see what he says, and then we’ll meet.” As tempting as it is to plan for every contingency, it’s exhausting and inefficient.

I’m once again facing a series of choices and a big, ugly dose of uncertainty. I’m coping with it all right — I’m getting used to the ground shifting beneath my feet. I can’t fix it, and that’s easier to tolerate if I don’t think of it as a problem.

The truth is, even if we don’t like uncertainty, we also don’t want the ending spoiled for us. We want the tension created by the drama of the story as it unfolds, not a dry Wikipedia plot summary.

So instead of trying to rush through the twists and turns just to find out what happens, I’m going to go as slow as I need to go in order to give each choice its due and live deeply along the way. It’s uncomfortable, and that’s the point: That way lies growth, opportunity, and (hopefully, eventually) a satisfying conclusion.