How to find peace with uncertainty — we like to know. We like to have certainty. We like things to be declared, settled, clear. When we don’t know, when we’re not sure, we don’t know how to position ourselves or make decisions.
The truth is — very few things are ever truly certain. Usually it’s our subjective assessment that gives us a sense of security. And the more open we are, the more options we consider, the more narratives we hold.
What we’re really dealing with is uncertainty.
The more perspectives we have, the more mental noise — and yet, despite experience, we become capable of reading a single situation from multiple angles. Of genuinely understanding someone else’s approach.
Beautiful. Real. But the options multiply, it’s not always easy, there isn’t always one answer — and we won’t always find it.
So how do you stay calm despite uncertainty? Or is it better to stick to one narrative and not open yourself to others?
Some facts worth considering:
- Openness doesn’t make life easier. But it makes it more real. We know that alongside what “seems true to us” there are several other perceptions — each with its own justified basis.
- People tend to split into two camps: those who are very certain of everything, and those who question everything and believe truth doesn’t exist. But truth always exists. In many life situations, however, there’s simply no certainty that our view reflects reality. A lot of our opinions aren’t based on what we’ve directly witnessed — they’re based on gut feeling, other people’s opinions, emotions, or past experience. So is it worth belonging to either extreme? Or is there a more balanced approach?
What if — while holding our own view — we could accept that it’s probable, lean on it, while also assuming that life will surprise us more than once?
The Experiment
I have friends from very different backgrounds — different approaches, significant life experience.
I’ll admit — there have been moments when I told the same story to each of them separately. Something from my own life, from a relationship. And each of them interpreted it in a genuinely different way.
Despite all having considerable life experience — each person gave an almost completely different opinion on the same situation. Shaped by their own histories, by stories they’d heard, by the details that caught their attention, by the general approach they themselves live by.
Once I told all of these close but very different people — one by one — about a friendship with a certain person. Intense, vivid, with all the contradictions that came with it.
And I’ll admit — every interpretation I heard made sense. I could almost pick the one that suited me most. Choose the most comfortable one.
Some views seemed more realistic than others — but none required dismissing entirely.
It was an important moment in my life. And honestly — having that many options was more overwhelming than stopping at one or two conversations would have been.
More dilemma. Less certainty.
I also noticed that as humans we often cling to one interpretation, one version we want to believe. A lot of people do this — and then build entire worldviews around it.
But I tried something different. I sat with the confusion. With the uncertainty. With the bigger dilemma.
I noticed that choosing one probable option — the one I felt rather than the one I wanted most, not the most comfortable one — helped me find some footing. But the most important thing turned out to be simply being present. Observing clearly how the situation unfolded, without glasses tinted by interpretation — while simultaneously holding all those possible options in my mind.
With that approach it became something else entirely. Extremely exciting.
I didn’t go into situations thinking “it’s like this, the conclusion is this” — but instead: “there are many possible truths here, some very probable, and now I’m watching how it unfolds. Watching for the next clues reality gives me.”
What turned out to be remarkable was that this helped me show up with a clear mind. Without projections that never map perfectly onto reality anyway — and that would have taken up space I needed for intuition and a feel for the moment.
A close, wise friend once said: “Don’t waste energy trying to predict situations — save it so that when you’re in them, you’re fully there. To trust yourself. To feel the moment. To be light and not overloaded by analysis.”
And that has become one of my biggest life lessons. The more I develop that trust in the moment — the more lightness and instinct I bring to it.
Most people choose certainty. Even false certainty. Because false certainty is more comfortable than real uncertainty.
The question isn’t: how do I get rid of uncertainty. The question is: are you ready to live fully with it?
