Being certain about uncertainty

This short essay by Mandy Brown has 777 words. (I counted… OK, Microsoft Word did.) I’m lucky it was brought to my attention by one of the many newsletters I try to read each week/month. (I wish I could remember which one… )

The essay is about dealing with uncertainty. And how uncertainty is the only thing that makes life possible.

Our awareness of life, of its great variety and beauty and possibility, emerges out of uncertainty. Awareness, that sense of being awake to the world, is necessary only because we live in uncertainty. If we knew what was to come, we would have no need for sensemaking, no need to be alert to what’s around us, no need to ever open our eyes and ears and arms to each other.

This is, perhaps, the great paradox of modern technologies: in a world without uncertainty, we would need only be aware of our screens—nothing else would matter. But in the deeply uncertain world we do live in, we cling to those screens because they promise the one thing we can never have.

We want answers, but life delivers questions. Ms. Brown’s advice at the end of the essay makes a ton of sense:

  1. Take small steps.
  2. Be ready to shift directions.
  3. Anticipate surprise.
  4. Trust in creativity.
  5. Go with friends.

Our power is not measured in weapons or cash but in humans; our power is with and through each other

Life may be uncertain, but I’m certain about that!

Crying in the Mercantile Library

This is NOT a music-related post. (I have to post that disclaimer, as two of the four regular readers of this blog don’t like my musical musings.)

Michelle Zauner is the leader of the band Japanese Breakfast. I’m a huge fan. (Their new album comes out soon!)

But she also wrote a very moving memoir about loss – her book Crying in H Mart. When her mother was diagnosed with cancer, Michelle left her East Coast band and flew back to her childhood home in Eugene, Oregon, to take care of her mom during her final months. And as a Korean-American who lost not just her mom but her connection to her Korean heritage, Michelle feels the grief quite intensely.

I can sorta-kinda relate. I’m not mixed race like Michelle, but my mom was first generation Italian-American. And when she passed away, I lost that connection to the Italian part of my heritage. I was lucky enough to spend some quality time with my Italian aunts (Rosetta and Inez) growing up, but chances are my feelings of “Italian-ness” would be much stronger had my mom not passed away when I was so young.

I hadn’t thought about that a lot, until I listened to Michelle speak about her book at Cincinnati’s Mercantile Library earlier this week.

I found myself getting a bit misty-eyed when she talked about the sense of not just maternal loss but also cultural loss. And I started to think that I’m not just a fan of Michelle’s band, but also a kindred spirit with her.

Then. later in the week, I saw this quote:

It is essential for us to welcome our grief, whatever form it takes. When we do, we open ourselves to our shared experiences in life. Grief is our common bond. Opening to our sorrow connects us with everyone, everywhere.

— Francis Weller

Yes, I’m a kindred spirit with Michelle Zauner. And with you. And with everyone who has suffered loss… which is “everyone, everywhere.”

Grateful Living has a monthly series called “Grateful Gatherings.” As fate would have it, the focus for March is “Grief & Gratefulness.” Here’s another Francis Weller quote:

“Gratitude is the other hand of grief. It is the mature person who welcomes both. To deny either reality is to slip into chronic depression or to live in a superficial reality. Together they form a prayer that makes tangible the exquisite richness of life in this moment. Life is hard and filled with suffering. Life is also a most precious gift, a reason for continual celebration and appreciation.”

Amen to that!

The Grief & Gratefulness resources are here. Should you find yourself crying in H Mart, or in the Mercantile Library, or anywhere, really, they could come in handy.


The Mercantile Library is an absolute gem in the Queen City. It’s been open since 1835, but recently completed a remodel that adds much more cool space to what already was the city’s best haven for “readers, writers, and thinkers” as their website says. Michelle Zauner this past Tuesday, Curtis Sittenfeld this past Friday… with Timothy Egan, Crystal Wilkinson, Ada Limón, Colson Whitehead, Kaveh Akbar, and Lauren Groff still on tap this year, along with several other authors, plus book clubs, poetry readings, yoga, and so much more.

It’s a membership library, but the low cost would be worth it just to hang out in their space, and membership gets you early (and often free) access to the author events.

Wonder is all around you

Here’s a no-cost way to add joy and wonder to your life, courtesy of psychologist Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi:

“Try to be surprised by something every day. It could be something you see, hear, or read about. Stop to look at the unusual car parked at the curb, taste the new item on the cafeteria menu, actually listen to your colleague at the office. How is this different from other similar cars, dishes or conversations? What is its essence? Don’t assume that you already know what these things are all about, or that even if you knew them, they wouldn’t matter anyway. Experience this one thing for what it is, not what you think it is. Be open to what the world is telling you. Life is nothing more than a stream of experiences — the more widely and deeply you swim in it, the richer your life will be.”

Stop. Look. Listen. Taste. Smell. Feel. Your senses are working, but it’s time to get them working overtime.


Fun fact: the letters in “Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi” can be rearranged to spell “hilly haystacks minimize”… hmm, I think I need to keep working on the whole “stream of experiences” thing.

The Lost Art of Listening

This post from Scott Galloway is a year and a half old, but it’s worth flagging (again, perhaps). My favorite excerpt:

Add this to the list of ways social media is ruining society: It’s skewing our perception of the relative value of listening vs. speaking. Social media is a contact sport in which “takes” are the game ball. It’s taught us (incorrectly) that all our opinions matter. Worse, that everyone needs to hear and comment on them. 

He’s spot-on. You don’t get any sort of clout (or Klout, back in the day) for just reading something and not weighing in.

The delta between hearing and listening is attention, being present. This is difficult in the age of devices, but respect is what makes the other party feel heard. 

Scott offers four tips for lending someone our ears.

Not speaking up is easier said (unsaid?) than done. It takes practice. But the payoff for fewer words is more empathy.

“You gotta learn to listen, listen to learn…”

Hope. Belief.

This was published in 1991. Seems appropriate for our times.

THE CURE OF TROY – by Seamus Heaney

Human beings suffer,
they torture one another,
they get hurt and get hard.
No poem or play or song
can fully right a wrong
inflicted or endured.

The innocent in gaols
beat on their bars together.
A hunger-striker’s father
stands in the graveyard dumb.
The police widow in veils
faints at the funeral home.

History says, Don’t hope
on this side of the grave.
But then, once in a lifetime
the longed for tidal wave
of justice can rise up,
and hope and history rhyme.

So hope for a great sea-change
on the far side of revenge.
Believe that a further shore
is reachable from here.
Believe in miracles
and cures and healing wells.

Call the miracle self-healing:
The utter self-revealing
double-take of feeling.
If there’s fire on the mountain
Or lightning and storm
And a god speaks from the sky

That means someone is hearing
the outcry and the birth-cry
of new life at its term.

It means once in a lifetime
That justice can rise up
And hope and history rhyme.

We could use some rhyme time right about now.

But then, once in a lifetime
the longed for tidal wave
of justice can rise up,
and hope and history rhyme.
So hope for a great sea-change
on the far side of revenge.
Believe that a further shore
is reachable from here.
Believe in miracles
and cures and healing wells.

I do believe that a further shore is reachable from here. Especially if we all join hands.


Hearing Seamus read his poem is like music. And here’s a bit more musical hope:

That nothing grows on, but time still goes on
Through each laugh of misery

Everybody’s gotta hold on hope
It’s the last thing that’s holding me

“Hold On Hope” by Guided by Voices

Crazy authors aren’t so crazy after all

Feeling “stuck” in your job (or your life)? Maybe you need some advice from this guy:

Ralph Steadman’s drawing of Hunter S. Thompson’s car beset by huge bats illustrated Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas in 1971.

Yes, noted “gonzo journalist” Hunter S. Thompson would like a word with you:

You have the power to change things up. But don’t just take it from Hunter S. Thompson. Pull up a barstool and listen to this fella:

That’s noted Barfly Charles Bukowski, America’s most infamous poet and a “laureate of American lowlife” (Time, 1986). Here’s what he has to say about making your own breaks:

Just a couple of friendly reminders that life doesn’t happen TO you unless you let it. And if it seems crazy to make a change, then embrace the crazy.

[Both quotes above came onto my radar via James Clear’s excellent 3-2-1 weekly email. If you’re not already on the list, you have the power to change that. 🙂 ]