There Is Wisdom In Not Knowing What's Next

You know what's funny?

We spend so much of our lives trying to figure out what comes next. The next step, the next move, the next chapter. Like we're supposed to have this whole thing mapped out... like life's some kind of GPS route we can program from birth to death.

But here's what I've learned – and I mean really learned, not just read in some book – there's actual wisdom in not knowing.

Real freedom in it.

I remember this road trip I took years ago. Had the whole thing planned, every stop, every meal, every photo opportunity. And then my car broke down in the middle of nowhere. I'm talking middle-of-actual-nowhere.

And you know what happened? I ended up spending three days in this tiny town, met people I never would've met, had conversations that changed how I saw things.

None of it was on the map.

See, when we're obsessed with knowing what's next, we're really just trying to control what we can't control. It's exhausting. It's like trying to hold water in your fists – the tighter you squeeze, the more slips through.

The thing about not knowing... it keeps you present. Right here, right now. When you're not constantly projecting into tomorrow, when you're not running scenarios in your head like some anxious chess player – that's when you actually start living.

Now listen, I'm not saying don't plan. I'm not talking about reckless abandon. I'm talking about holding your plans lightly. Like carrying a bird in your hands – firm enough to hold it, gentle enough to let it breathe.

There's this beautiful space between rigid planning and chaotic drifting.

It's where intuition lives.

Where creativity breathes.

Where life gets to surprise you.

Every great thing that's happened to me – and I mean every great thing – came from a place I didn't see coming. The job that changed everything. The person who became family. The idea that sparked a whole new direction.

None of it was in the five-year plan.

Here's the thing... not knowing doesn't mean being lost. It means being open. It means trusting that you'll figure it out when you get there. That you've figured things out before, and you'll figure them out again.

The universe – or life, or whatever you want to call it – it's got a pretty good track record of unfolding. Trees don't agonize over which way to grow. Rivers don't stress about the path to the ocean. They just move, adapt, flow.

Maybe wisdom isn't about having all the answers. Maybe it's about being comfortable in the questions. About saying "I don't know what's next" and feeling... not fear... but possibility.

So what if not knowing isn't the problem?

What if it's the point?