It’s a tradition that I write something for my birthday. This year, I’ve been struck with how many people are talking about chaos, uncertainty, hope, and peace. In times of overwhelming unknown such as today, we frantically grasp for what is certain. We are desperate for something to tell us that we are going to be okay.
Because things today are not okay.
Throughout history, there have been many times when things, broadly, have not been okay. This particular time is unprecedented in most of our lifetimes. There are three things that are particularly noteworthy about this time:
We collectively have enough knowledge to be certain that what is happening today very serious.
We collectively have enough knowledge to be of assistance in our own rescue from this extremely serious situation.
Although our collective knowledge is strong, our individual knowledge is extremely limited. We don’t know if any individual person is going to make it through this unscathed.
The last one is what ultimately gets us in trouble. It’s hard for any of us to accept the fact that we or someone we love might die or become seriously ill. It’s hard for us to grasp that our livelihoods may be affected. Those risks of course exist every day regardless of a pandemic, but most of us are pretty good at forgetting about them. A situation like the pandemic we are facing today thrusts that prickly, uncomfortable reality to the forefront.
This is why you see so many people grasping for certainties, even if they aren’t true. Kids don’t get it (they do). Only old people die from it (not true). Drinking water flushes the virus out (false). Each of these statements is allowing someone to believe that they or the people they love will be spared, and therefore, to feel certain and safe again. That’s an understandable desire.
I’m not an expert on epidemics or viruses or health. I’m just a technologist and business owner. But I have a great deal of experience with uncertainty. Uncertainty drove me to work harder and longer in the shaky economy of 2008-2009. It’s caused me to push forward and pull back at various times. It has led me to act in ways that are bold (sometimes laced with a hint of desperation), and it has led me to shrink behind excuses and fears. And what I have learned from all of it, is this:
Instead of seeking certainty, seek peace.
Certainty requires control over the outside: other people, world events, nature. That will never happen. But peace is an inside job.
I recently went whitewater rafting for my future sister-in-law’s bachelorette party. Because she is a smart woman, Lauren did not tell us that we were going whitewater rafting until we were already in the car. She knew who she was dealing with. Once we got there, we learned that the Salt River was at flood stage, and running at 10x its normal velocity. Being from Iowa, this was alarming to me because here when there is a flood the main goal is to stay away from the rushing water — not plunge into it on an inflatable raft.
We got a rather lengthy safety talk before getting into the water. The guides emphasized that due to the aggressively rushing waters, they may not be able to get to us to rescue us if we should fall out of the boat. If we were to go for an unplanned swim, our first job would be to calm ourselves down and go to our happy place so we could think clearly, and then paddle to the nearest clear landing, avoiding trees and brush that could form lethal obstructions. They kept repeating “The best rescue is a self-rescue”. Standing on shore and staring at the swirling waters it was hard for any of us to imagine how a self-rescue could be possible.
Yet when I look back at past uncertainties in my life, in a way, every rescue has been a self-rescue. Each has involved a moment of reckoning and acceptance of my own ownership in the situation. That moment of recognition that no one is coming to save me, and I have to save myself.
And at the same time, nothing in my life has ever truly been a self-rescue. Much like going to your happy place and waiting for the current to take you to shore, much of life seems to be about breathing deeply and keeping your eyes open for a safe landing to appear amid the ever-changing currents.
How can we be at peace when the rescue point is not yet in sight?
The trick is that peace does not come from knowing that we will get what we want. There are people facing terminal diagnoses who find great serenity despite a bleak prognosis. I believe peace instead comes from being satisfied with the way we have faced the challenges in this life. It comes from trying hard, from falling short, and getting up again to try a different way. It comes from sweaty armpits and skinned knees and bruised hearts. And it comes from getting on the damn raft and paddling hard toward a shore we cannot yet see.
Peace be with you.
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Erin Rollenhagen is the founder of Entrepreneurial Technologies, Inc. and the author of Soul Uprising: It’s Never Just Business. You can connect with her on LinkedIn, Facebook, Instagram or email, or take your chances on her sporadically-monitored Twitter account.