Wednesday, March 23, 2022

Thriving in Uncertainty

When you think of uncertainty, what do you automatically feel? What type of thoughts go through your head?

If you take the time to answer these questions honestly, there is a good chance there will be worry, nervousness, stress, or even a feeling of lack of control. And when it comes down to the root, uncertainty is most often attached to fear. Fear of the unknown, fear of no control, fear of suffering, fear of helplessness, fear of powerlessness, etc.

What will happen if....?

If I do this or that, it will go the way it should. Otherwise, I don't know what to plan for.

If I don't know what to plan on, I don't know what I will do. 

If the economy crashes, how will we survive?

I don't want to think of what tomorrow will bring. That scares me because I don't know what will happen and what I will do. 

The situation is beyond my control. I will avoid it and the involved people at all costs.

I have pondered why we as human beings feel the need to plan so much, to control the details of our lives as if our very lives depend on it. This stress-filled need for control of a situation, the reaction of another, what will happen tomorrow, or the choices of a friend is present everywhere. However, it is the fear OF uncertainty, not the uncertainty itself, that causes this frantic grasp for control and the actions that follow. This fear is our common enemy and it is a stressful, anxious dictator who hijacks joy and rules by limitation.

As I went about redefining the word uncertainty, I asked myself, "What if uncertainty doesn't have to be attached to a fearful, lack-mentality? Is it possible to fully THRIVE in uncertainty, to let go of the need to have control, and to find peace regardless of what is occurring outside of you?" The answer I have found is, "Yes." 

Last Fall, my husband got bit on the foot by a black widow spider (by the way, this incident helped to support my case that flip flops are superior shoes). We were at the soccer field when it happened, and did uncertainty make an appearance? Absolutely. We had no experience with this sort of thing, our kids' games were about to start, and we weren't sure what to do, or what needed to be done.

The first thing I remember doing was not going down the road of the "shoulds" like:

James should have checked his shoes.

This shouldn't have happened.

He should be fine. It can't be that bad.

I chose to meet uncertainty gently by accepting reality as is: James got bit by a dangerous spider. Nothing more. Nothing less.

I asked James what he wanted to do. He said he would watch the soccer games and go from there, and I accepted his choice.

*NOTE: I will take a moment to acknowledge those who feel the need to decide what we should have done instead. Feel free to fill up you judgment-cup :) May you take this golden opportunity.

By the end of the games, James' legs and hips were hurting pretty bad. I was consciously aware that I was feeling even more uncertain at this point, and it took intentional effort to choose not to attach fear to it. I chose to sit in curiosity instead, to take one moment at a time and anticipate going with the flow.

As we were loading our stuff up into the car to go home, my oldest son was very concerned. He asked me, "What are we going to do? What do we need for dad?"
My response was unexpectedly profound and it was what I needed to hear for myself. I said something like, "We always have everything we require in the moment we require it, and not a moment sooner. We just have to be open to whatever that is and receive it in the moment it comes."
On the drive home, I silently asked myself, "What do I have access to right now that will meet James' needs?" The answer that came was that I needed to make an herbal poultice. Instinctively I knew basil and calendula would help and I had those on hand. When I went outside to pick the basil, I just happened to have a big bunch of fresh basil available because I hadn't harvested for a while. We had all we required, plus more, and I was grateful.
I made the poultice, and it seemed to work for a while, but as the night went on, James' pain began to increase intensely. Watching him be in so much pain, I wavered in my focus, and I attached fear to uncertainty. I had done all I could and I thought, "I should be able to do more! What are we going to do? Does he need to go to the doctor? What will that cost?!" I also started researching black widow bites and found stories of other people's experiences, which added so much more fear to the uncertainty of the situation. I was trying to live in the future and be certain about what I should expect and to find all the answers. I was stressed and felt helpless.
As James' pain increased even more, I realized I was going emotionally numb in order to disconnect from my fearful uncertainty. I was not able to emotionally show up and care for him like I had been earlier. I didn't want him to suffer alone, and so I shifted back to accepting what was reality and remembered what I had told my son earlier that day. Everything my husband required would be provided in the moment he required it, and not a moment sooner.

It was interesting how my stress levels came down so quickly after that. I put my need for control and answers aside, and sat in curiosity of what would come next and when. I even felt my care for him expanding in capacity as I shifted my perspective. What a lie it is that fretting, stressing, and worrying equals how much I care about someone or something!
The time came in the wee hours of the morning that James needed to go to the hospital for muscle relaxers and help with the pain. I trusted that he knew he needed something more for his pain. I accepted what was, believing that whatever the doctor bill would be, that the money would be provided when we required it. James drove himself to the hospital and received muscle relaxers that allowed him to sleep and pain medication for the days that followed. He recovered well over the next couple of weeks, and the experience is one I am grateful to have had. I learned:
1. Fear of and in uncertainty is limiting.
2. Curiosity is an underrated super power that allows me to go with the flow of receiving and giving abundantly.
3. What I require is provided in the moment I truly require it, and not a moment sooner.
4. I am capable of thriving in uncertainty, and I feel peace and joy regardless of what is happening.
5. The bug exterminator is a friend worth keeping.

As I write this today, I think of the last couple months of upset in this world. Talk of WW3, crazy gas prices, and all the other topics of uncertainty have brought a lot of fear to people, and perhaps even to you, the reader.

How can you accept reality and "what is" in your life? Can you sit in curiosity of what is to come, and let a spirit of hope and adventure be in the uncertainty? Can you trust that answers will come in the moment you require them, and not a moment sooner?

It's like walking down a path in thick fog. You can't see exactly where you are headed in full detail, nor can you see if the path will bend not far in front of you. But, with each step you take, you can see where you put your foot, one step at a time, and that is when you see the most clear. You find the bend when it is time. You reach your destination when you arrive. You'll get there. Until then, be here. Each moment matters.

You don't have to know the "how" or all the answers at once in order to survive. These things will find you when you require them, and not a moment sooner. Receive them as they come. This is how you thrive.

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