Alexa Babin

I’ll warn you right now—I’m existing somewhere between playful and existential today. On one hand, I’m leaving for a long-anticipated dream trip early tomorrow morning, and the pre-travel excitement has definitely set in. On the other hand, today’s my last day living with one of my roommates and dear friends. By the time I get back from my trip, she’ll be fully moved out, and our lovely new roommate will be here in her place. It’s a bittersweet day, as so many are.

Two very different mental and emotional spaces to occupy at once. And yet, there are shades of unknown in both.

I have no clue how this trip will go. Of course, I’m banking on it being fabulous, but I’d be fooling myself to think there will be no friction or challenge. It’s inevitable, even if it’s just something small. I also have no clue how the adjustment period of living with someone new will go. She’s a delightful person, but it will be new. Anything new involves change, and change often brings with it some unknowns.

Admittedly, I feel I’ve had a lot of practice in dealing with the unknown. There’s a saying I like to share with people that helps me reframe the fear that can often come with the unknown—“thrive in the possibility that anything can happen.” I think sometimes we face a new thing, a big, great wide-open moment, and we perceive our own not knowing as a gigantic black hole of terror. But what if we looked at is as a blooming field of endless possibility?

We never know what’s on the other side of something until we move forward. Until we embrace it. Until we let ourselves trust that we’re going to be okay on the other side of whatever the present unknown is.

I wish I could say dealing with the unknown was a science—that there are traceable steps that can assure your ability to manage the knots in your stomach that arise when things are uncertain—but it’s more of an art. We gradually learn to ebb and flow with those bits of our lives that threaten to scare us and push us back. And honestly, I’m not so sure we know as much as we think we do. Perhaps there is more unknown in each of our worlds than we’d like to admit. We think that knowledge brings peace—but does it?

Consider this—if you know you’re going to lose someone you love, does the knowing make the experience of loss any more peaceful? Any more palatable?

I’m not convinced that knowing something for certain guarantees us any security, or peace, or a smooth ride along the path. I think it gives an illusion of it.

Dealing with the unknown is part of being human. We all must figure out our own ways of managing it. For me? I do my best to make friends with the unknown, to see it in a positive light, and to get excited about the possibilities it can bring. I’ve learned that it doesn’t have to freak me out…but it’s okay if it still does sometimes. Acknowledge that it’s a little scary not to know, brace yourself for the good that might come and surprise you, and know that there’s only one way to get to the other side.

Jump right on through. Let the unknown consume you until it’s not so unfamiliar anymore.