The Murky Middle: I Want a Way Out of The Uncertainty
Tolerating ambiguity was never my idea of a good time
I’ve been pondering the phrase “the murky middle” ever more frequently lately. On a broad level, the uncertainty around the US presidential election is nearing its crescendo, accompanied by the climate crisis, global wars, and genocide. On a personal level, my family and I are in the midst of personal and professional transformations where the outcomes remain distant and unclear.
The murkiness of this time is striking to me.
If we’re living in a simulation, the game master must have cranked the uncertainty dial up to maximum. (For the record, I’m not sure this is a simulation, but a part of me finds that to be a more palatable explanation for current affairs than the alternative explanations.)
I’m trying to embrace the murky middle instead of struggling against it. I tell myself to view uncertainty as a mystery, an opportunity, an expanse of possibilities. But those reframes of uncertainty bump up against my deep desire to have a plan for what’s next. What else could soothe my anxiety and provide me with an illusion of control like a good plan?
I love a good plan!
I’ve even reached a point in (mid)life where I recognize that plans need to be flexible and adaptable. I no longer think about changing my plans as a bad thing, but as a sign that I’m responsive and innovative in my planning process. And the process feels great. You’ll forgive me for patting myself on the back for all my growth.
Planning Feels Great, but…
The problem with planning is that life remains uncertain. There’s no denying or avoiding it. My best crafted plan is no antidote for the uncertainty inherent in life. And when planning blinds me to that reality, it probably isn’t serving me as well as I’d like to tell myself it is.
So, how can I (and you) live with the reality of uncertainty, without giving into the temptation of planning, controlling, denying, avoiding?
Sadly, I don’t have a simple answer or a five-step process. Anything I come up with sounds suspiciously, seductively, like a plan.
My hunch is that the answer is to surrender to reality. And surrender is not what I consider a plan, so it doesn’t come naturally to me.
But could I imagine changing my relationship to uncertainty and surrender? Perhaps.
I could envision myself below the surface of the murky waters of uncertainty. Rather than struggling and clinging to doing, I could instead release the tension and allow myself to float to the surface. At least then, I would be able to breathe and be moved with the flow of uncertainty.
Or I might picture myself walking into a thick forest (Mirkwood?), noticing that each step brings me deeper into darkness and uncertainty. I could put one foot in front of the next, staying on the path, despite not seeing my destination. I could trust that, for the moment, I am safe, and a path is before me.
Or I could see myself holding a choose-your-adventure book, reading one scene at a time, opting for one new chapter at a time. I could focus on making the best choice possible at this moment, knowing only what I know at this time.
Looking for Wisdom Within
To be blunt, not one of these options appeals to my Type A, five-year-plan, SMART goals brain. My nervous system that craves clarity and predictability wants to reject the idea of surrendering to uncertainty.
Thankfully, there is also a wise voice within me that knows that I can’t outrun or out-plan reality. This is especially true when I’m facing the level of personal and social uncertainty that currently exists. That wise voice encourages me to try something like these approaches, even though it feels uncomfortable to not lay out several concrete action steps.
I’m inviting myself to listen to this wise part. It knows that I can get through the murky middle of uncertainty if I stop struggling and planning and trying to control everything. And so can you.
Sending much patience your way as you travel the murky middle!
What if the 'murky middle' is actually the most alive place to be? It's where the old ways are falling apart, but the new hasn't fully formed yet. It's a fertile ground for creativity, innovation, and unexpected breakthroughs. Maybe instead of resisting it, we can embrace the 'murk' as the birthplace of our wildest dreams.
I wouldn’t want to completely surrender to uncertainty. I find that type of person impossible to maintain a relationship with. I guess it has to be the murky middle, then. :/ Great post!