Life doesn’t always give us a clear path forward.
Sometimes we know exactly where we’re going. Other times, we can only see the next step.
A simple experience with my two boys on Newcastle Island in Nanaimo became an unexpected reminder of what it feels like to move through uncertainty.
We were walking from the beach back to our tent after the sun had gone down.
There was no big therapeutic exercise planned.
We were simply walking in the dark.
But somewhere along the way, I realized how much that little journey reflected the way we experience fear, uncertainty and trust in everyday life.
When You Can’t See What’s Ahead
Once we were surrounded by darkness, everything felt different.
Without being able to see clearly, every sound seemed louder.
Leaves rustled.
Branches moved.
Something shifted in the bushes.
My imagination immediately began filling in the blanks.
I found myself nervously laughing and jumping at sounds that probably wouldn’t have bothered me at all during daylight.
It reminded me how quickly our minds can create stories when we don’t know what’s happening.
And isn’t that so often what happens with anxiety?
When we can’t see what’s coming, our minds try to protect us by imagining what could happen.
Unfortunately, they aren’t always very good at imagining the peaceful possibilities.
Finding Comfort in Connection
I wasn’t alone that night.
My two boys, who were 12 and 9 at the time, were walking with me.
Holding their hands changed the experience.
We were still in the dark.
We still couldn’t see very far ahead.
But we were moving through it together.
There was something comforting about their presence—and something beautiful about realizing that we don’t necessarily need someone to remove uncertainty for us.
Sometimes we simply need someone willing to walk beside us while we’re in it.
That’s something I think about in counselling too.
I can’t always tell someone exactly what is going to happen next in their life.
Sometimes there isn’t an answer yet.
But there can still be enormous value in not having to navigate the uncertainty alone.
Fear Loves an Information Vacuum
Every unfamiliar sound seemed potentially threatening.
Then we’d get closer.
It was the wind.
A branch.
Perhaps a raccoon.
Nothing had actually changed except that we had more information.
Fear had filled the empty space with its own explanation.
Our minds do this remarkably well.
A partner doesn’t answer a message.
Something is wrong.
We haven’t heard back after an interview.
I didn’t get the job.
Someone seems distant.
They’re upset with me.
We feel something unfamiliar in our body.
What if something terrible is happening?
The feeling is real.
But the story our mind creates to explain the feeling isn’t necessarily true.
Trusting the Next Step
Walking in the dark also forced us to slow down.
I couldn’t see the entire path.
I could see enough to take the next step.
Then another.
And another.
There are times in life when that’s all we get.
We want certainty before ending a relationship, beginning one, changing careers, becoming a parent, setting a boundary or making a difficult decision.
Sometimes certainty never arrives.
Instead, we gather the information we have, pay attention to ourselves and take the next step that feels right.
Then we reassess.
The Beauty We Almost Miss
Something else happened when we stopped relying so heavily on sight.
We began noticing everything else.
The sound of the ocean.
The wind.
The nighttime animals.
The feeling of the ground underneath us.
The closeness of walking together.
The darkness initially made me focus on what I couldn’t see.
Eventually, it helped me notice things I might otherwise have missed.
That has stayed with me.
Sometimes uncertainty narrows our attention so much that all we can see is the problem we’re trying to solve.
Coming back into the present can remind us that there is still a life happening around us.
What That Walk Taught Me About Anxiety
That night didn’t make me fearless.
I still jumped when something moved in the bushes.
But it reminded me that feeling afraid and being unsafe aren’t always the same thing.
Anxiety can be useful. It alerts us, prepares us and encourages us to pay attention.
But sometimes our nervous system reacts to uncertainty as though uncertainty itself is danger.
Learning to notice that distinction can be powerful.
Instead of immediately believing every frightening thought, we can become curious:
What do I actually know right now?
What am I imagining?
Is there something I need to do, or is my mind trying to create certainty where none exists yet?
Learning to Live With Some Uncertainty
I don’t think the goal is to become completely comfortable with the unknown.
I’m certainly not.
The goal may simply be to develop more trust in our ability to meet what comes.
We can be afraid and continue walking.
We can ask for support.
We can slow down.
We can change direction.
And sometimes we can discover something beautiful in a part of the journey we originally wished we could skip.
That evening on Newcastle Island became one of those moments for me.
What began as a dark walk back to our tent became a memory about my children, connection, fear and trusting the next step.
When Uncertainty Becomes Overwhelming
There is a difference between the ordinary uncertainty that comes with being human and anxiety that begins interfering with your relationships, sleep, work or ability to enjoy your life.
If uncertainty regularly sends you into overthinking, catastrophic thinking or constant worry, you may also find my article on understanding and navigating anxiety helpful.
Counselling can also provide a place to explore what your anxiety is trying to protect you from and develop different ways of responding to uncertainty.
You can learn more about my counselling services in Nanaimo and online.
If you’d like to see whether working together feels like a good fit, you can request a free 15-minute consultation.