What If We Don’t Need Certainty?

By Rich Lyle

Anxiety has been a part of my life for as long as I can remember. And I don't mean simply having moments of worry or nervousness - although I certainly have those too. Over the years, my relationship with anxiety has influenced some big decisions, caused me to turn down opportunities, stopped me from doing things I wanted to do and, at times, made it difficult to be fully present for some of the good things happening around me.

There have also been periods when anxiety became more than I could manage alongside everything else I was carrying, and I needed to step away from work and focus on recovery.

For a long time, I saw this as something I needed to overcome. I also became very good at trying to get ahead of it - thinking through what might go wrong, anticipating outcomes and looking for enough certainty to feel safe moving forward.

During my Ontological Coaching training, Alan Sieler introduced me to a different way of thinking about anxiety. He explained that anxiety can arise from opposing uncertainty - from wanting the world to be more certain, predictable and safer than it actually is. This realization and the following insight felt as though a huge weight had been lifted from my shoulders and changed my relationship with uncertainty.

What is anxiety?

Fear is an emotion and, like other emotions, can be understood as a predisposition for action. It can alert us to a potential threat and prompt us to respond. That response might be to move away from danger, protect ourselves, or take some action to reduce a perceived risk.

There is a good reason we have evolved to respond this way. If our ancestors heard a rustling in the bushes, there was a reasonable chance that something dangerous was nearby. A rapid physiological response could make the difference between taking action and becoming lunch for a sabre-toothed tiger!

Thankfully, most of us don't regularly face those sorts of physical threats today. But fear still has an important role. It can alert us to potential harm when we're driving, crossing a road, making an important decision or dealing with a situation that requires our attention. Once the identifiable threat has passed, we can generally return to our usual emotional state.

Anxiety is different

From an Ontological perspective, anxiety is understood as a prevailing mood. Rather than responding to an identifiable threat that is happening now, we can find ourselves assessing that the world is dangerous, that something could harm us, and that we may not be capable of dealing effectively with whatever happens.

We don’t get to eliminate uncertainty

Uncertainty is simply part of being human. We don’t know what will happen in our relationships, our health, our careers, our businesses or even on the next bike ride. We can plan, prepare, analyse and make informed decisions but ultimately, we cannot predict the future with certainty.

And yet, when faced with uncertainty, many of us try very hard to eliminate it. We search for more information. We analyse every possible outcome. We rehearse conversations that haven’t happened. We imagine what could go wrong. We try to control things that may not actually be within our control.

Sometimes that is useful. Planning and preparation can help us respond effectively to genuine risks. 

But there is a point when preparing for uncertainty becomes opposing uncertainty. And that’s where anxiety can take hold. I know this one well - for me, it can show up at almost any time of the day or night.

If I don’t know what is going to happen, I may begin to assess that something bad could happen, that I need to know what will happen, and that I may not be capable of dealing with whatever does happen. The uncertainty itself becomes the problem.

But what if uncertainty isn’t something we need to solve?

Anxiety or wonder?

One of the things I found so powerful in Alan’s teaching was the possibility that we can relate to uncertainty differently. If I oppose uncertainty, anxiety can become the mood from which I experience the situation. But if I accept that uncertainty is simply part of what I’m dealing with, something else can become available: wonder.

I don’t mean this in a naive sense. Wonder isn’t pretending everything will turn out well. It isn’t ignoring risk or telling ourselves there is nothing to worry about. It is simply allowing ourselves to be curious about what we don’t yet know.

I wonder what will happen. I wonder what I might discover. I wonder what opportunities might emerge. I wonder how I will respond when I know more.

The circumstances haven’t changed. The future hasn’t become any more certain. But my way of being with the uncertainty has changed. And that can change what becomes possible.

Acceptance doesn’t mean doing nothing

This is where I think the idea of acceptance can sometimes be misunderstood. Accepting uncertainty doesn’t mean becoming passive or giving up. It doesn’t mean saying, “Whatever happens, happens.”

It means acknowledging something that is already true: I don’t know what is going to happen. And from there, I can ask a different question: What can I do with what I know now?

This is where acceptance and agency can work together. Acceptance allows me to stop spending energy fighting the fact that I don’t have certainty. Agency allows me to recognise where I can still act.

I can make the best decision I can with the information available. I can have the conversation, prepare for what I can reasonably prepare for, ask for help, take the next step - and accept that I won't know exactly where that step will lead.

That last part is difficult for many of us. We can become so focused on needing to know the outcome that we forget we have the capacity to respond when the outcome becomes clearer. Perhaps we don’t need to predict everything. Perhaps we can learn to trust our ability to respond.

The wisdom to distinguish

This reminds me of the Serenity Prayer by Reinhold Niebuhr:

“God, give us grace to accept with serenity the things that cannot be changed, courage to change the things which should be changed, and the wisdom to distinguish the one from the other.”

I’ve always liked this idea, but through an Ontological lens I find the final part particularly interesting: the wisdom to distinguish the one from the other.

Because how do we actually know? We can spend enormous amounts of energy trying to control something that is outside our influence. Or we can decide something is outside our control when perhaps there is something we could do. Sometimes we confuse influence with control.

And sometimes we become so invested in proving that our assessment of a situation is correct that we miss a more useful question: What would be the most helpful and resourceful way of being for me now?

That question doesn’t require me to know the future. It asks me to become aware of how I’m relating to the present.

Awareness creates space

Awareness doesn’t necessarily make uncertainty disappear. It creates a little space between what is happening and how I am responding to it.

I can notice the language I’m using: This is going to go badly. I need to know. I won’t be able to cope. Something will go wrong.

I can notice the mood I’m living from. And I can notice what is happening in my body when I believe those assessments.

None of this means that my concerns are necessarily wrong. But awareness gives me an opportunity to become curious.

What am I making this uncertainty mean? What am I assuming will happen? What am I trying to control? What might become possible if I didn’t need to know the outcome yet?

These aren’t questions designed to make an uncomfortable feeling disappear. They’re invitations to see whether another way of being with the situation is available.

The Physiology of Uncertainty

One of the things that differentiates Ontological Coaching is the attention we give to the body. And for me, wonder feels a whole lot different in my body than anxiety.

When I'm experiencing anxiety, I notice shallow breathing, rounded shoulders, a sense of being bent forward and a heaviness in my chest.

Wonder feels different. There is a lightness to it. My eyes feel wider, my chest feels more open and my posture becomes more upright. Even as I write these words, I can feel something shift. It feels as though more options are available to me - as though I have a more resourceful way of being.

Trusting our capacity to respond

I still experience anxiety. I still find myself wanting to know what is going to happen and sometimes trying to get ahead of uncertainty by thinking through every possible scenario.

But I’m increasingly aware of what is happening when I do it. And that awareness can create a choice. I can continue trying to eliminate the uncertainty. Or I can acknowledge that uncertainty is here, accept that I don’t know what happens next, and become curious about what might unfold.

Sometimes there is action to take. Sometimes there isn’t. Sometimes the best thing we can do is prepare. Sometimes the best thing we can do is let go. And sometimes the most useful response is simply: I wonder.

I also think there is an important distinction here for me. Fear still has a place in my life. If something genuinely needs my attention, I want to notice it. If there is a risk I need to respond to, I want my body and emotions to help me do that. I don't want to eliminate fear.

What has changed is the hold that the prevailing mood of anxiety has had on me. It is still there at times, but it doesn't have the same grip. I’m more able to recognise when I'm moving into that mood, notice what I'm telling myself and become curious about the uncertainty rather than immediately trying to eliminate it.

For me, this is one of the gifts of Ontological Coaching. It isn’t about telling someone what to do or giving them certainty. It’s about creating space to observe ourselves, our language, our moods and our bodies - and perhaps discover that we have been relating to something in only one possible way.

We may not be able to change the uncertainty. But we can change our relationship with it. Perhaps we don’t need certainty before we move forward. Perhaps we need a little more acceptance, a little more awareness, and a little more trust in our capacity to respond to whatever comes next.

Wheelbeing is a personal coaching practice based on Victoria’s Surf Coast. Rich is a Certified Ontological Coach who supports people seeking meaningful change by creating space to slow down, think clearly and see differently — in life and at work. Rich can be contacted at richlyle@me.com