Uncertainty and the Art of Zen

I’ve always struggled with uncertainty of any magnitude; my mind seems to ruminate over pending outcomes with all the fervor of a needle stuck in a vinyl groove, playing the exact same refrain until the record wears out or the needle breaks.

Impatience, a need for control, general insecurity- I’ve suffered all these faults, and surely will again- but uncertainty provokes something within me when none of those issues is at play.

Even when a situation can only end two ways, either could be considered advantageous, and there is a known time frame for resolution, I’m still a wreck.

Faith would contend that everything happens for a reason, taking comfort in the “rightness” of either outcome. Logic would dictate focusing elsewhere until there is enough information to form a response.

I am not a man of faith, nor a man of logic. I am a woman with a healthy dose of skepticism for the all too common practice of relying too heavily on either.

My intuition is my north star; I close my eyes, ask myself what the answer is and listen very carefully and quietly for the feeling to roll over me.

The glaring weakness of this strategy is that pesky habit one has of favoring their preference; we tend to confirm our own desires. An emotional stake in the matter at hand clouds my intuition, and acute awareness of the possibility that my compass is miscalibrated leaves me dizzy with doubt.

I paid a hope tax to balance out the entry.

The things I wanted most I refused to believe in, my own little fucked up emotional insurance policy against disappointment and shame. My intuition written off to reconcile my desire and fear.

Which isn’t altogether a flawed formula; it simply attempts to account for the failings of human nature and reduce the risk that my trademark intensity brings to the use of deep knowing. Admirable goals, all.

It’s awfully exhausting though, all that hoping-not-hoping, knowing-not-knowing, wanting-not-wanting wears a girl out and thins her focus. It’s unproductive, particularly when I’m right more often than I’m wrong.

There isn’t a disappointment I cannot bear; all of my worst nightmares came true, and I’m happier than I’ve ever been in my life. Things I wanted too badly to believe in happened effortlessly, and things that seemed safely logical evaporated like summer rain on hot pavement. My emotions, thankfully, do not influence the workings of the universe.

So. A girl can hope, right?

Right.

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