I have serious beef with the unknown. I really do. It scares the mother effing shit out of me and often has me feeling like I am going insane. I can’t even count how many times I have completely lost it over not knowing what the hell to do about a situation, or being full of anxiety waiting for an outcome, or—and here’s the big one—my “next move” in this crazy/beautiful chess game of life. And because I haven’t settled into a long-term career or started a family, it seems like there is always a big decision to make about which way to go now.
On the other hand, when it comes to travel, adventure and gypsying my way around the planet, the unknown is exciting, invigorating…a must. I love not knowing who I’ll meet, what I’ll do, where I’ll end up, how long I’ll stay, and at what point I’ll get tired and decide to hop the next flight home. It’s always a surprise and it’s always pure magic. The unknown is like fuel to my free spirit, and I will forever be on the no-plan plan when it comes to my globetrotting escapades.
But as far as my everyday life goes sans chicken buses, hostels and hairy armpits, the unknown gives me emotional hives and spiritual hot sweats. And until I find a bomb-ass job that pays me to travel like a boss, it’s time to get my fear of the unknown seriously under control before I’m the next 5150. (Twenty bucks says it’s my boyfriend who makes the call!)
I’ve preached before about non-attachment—to not judge or accept vs. reject anything, and to embrace everything—but what I’ve realized recently is that I have actually only been applying this to circumstances when I am “in the know.” Whether it’s a situation, an emotion or a verdict, I actually have something to consciously not attach myself to. But what about when we are in the dark? How do we embrace…nothingness? How do we embrace the unknown?
Because I have never quite figured this out (slash never actually sat in the unknown long enough to), I tend to force an outcome because that feels a whole lot more comfortable than not knowing anything at all. Even if it’s shitty, it’s something. The discomfort of waiting is so painful for me that I am often willing to take a much bigger risk just to feel some sort of relief from the uncertainty. These risks have included jobs that weren’t right for me, relationships that tortured me, conversations that hurt everyone involved. When that inner voice doesn’t speak loud enough or fast enough, I tend to take matters into my own hands. As I’ve said before, patience is not my strong suit.
When I take a step back and really think about why I have this debilitating fear of the unknown, I believe that it all boils down to faith. And I have come to learn that faith is a muscle. And it’s this weird/frustrating/scary paradox because it only gets stronger as we continue to use it. (This probably explains the relationship between my aforementioned jiggly ass and strong aversion to lunges.) Every time we embrace life exactly as it is without forcing anything, and when it turns out OK, better than we thought or even straight-up awesome, that faith muscle gets a little bigger, stronger, and more powerful. But when we try to force life to go a certain way and make rash decisions without feeling intuitively confident, we don’t give faith an opportunity to work its magic. The struggle is real!
A few years ago I felt pulled to go to India, so I quit my job and went. I “stumbled upon” the most remarkable children’s home and worked there until my visa expired, and then went back two months later. This was one of the most perspective-altering experiences of my life. Last year I left a relationship with a man I loved so deeply because my heart was telling me to go my own way, and a few months later he was back in my life and we now have something so different and amazing—something that we could have never had before had we not had faith that everything would happen exactly as it should. Back in October I quit yet another job and quite literally drove into an abyss of the unknown, and while I find myself with still so much yet to be determined, it has been the most meaningful months of my entire life.
Looking back on my journey, I can’t help but notice that the most rewarding, enriching and life-changing experiences have happened not when I jumped aboard the fear train, but when I have put my faith in Spirit, trusted my path and walked courageously into the unknown. Had I feared the unfamiliarity of India, I might still be living in a very small perspective. Had I feared being alone or losing someone I loved, we might have destroyed what has since become something so beautiful. Had I feared leaving the security of my last job, I might still be living a life of constant stress and inner turmoil. Big things happen when we have a little faith.
I realize as I write this that while I am still incredibly uncomfortable with the unknown, reflecting on my experiences with faith is giving me a lot of much-needed comfort as I continue down my path. I’m feeling peaceful…hopeful. I’ve been here in Washington for over six months now and I still don’t “know” what my next move is. Ya know what—I actually want to retract my earlier analogy about life as a chess game because I don’t want to live that way; I have for far too long. I no longer want to live a carefully constructed and calculated life, because frankly, it’s friggin’ exhausting. I want my “next move” to forever be this: listen, trust and wait. Repeat. And that is all.
Tomorrow I leave for a nine-day intensive spiritual school/retreat where it is suggested that we don’t use our phones at all or communicate with anyone outside of the program for the entire time that we are there. While I have heard wonderful things about this experience, I have also heard that it is absolutely GNARLY—and that is about all I know. But that’s OK, because it is just another opportunity to build that muscle, just another set of squats to make my faith a little less “jiggly.”
And while it definitely isn’t comfortable, to life—to the unknown—perhaps we start saying, YES PLEASE. Because that is where the magic happens.
***Disclaimer: I haven't actually read Amy Poehler's book; I just like the cover...like A LOT. :-)