Embracing Uncertainty

When I was young I knew everything.

For every question of “why?” that existed in the universe, I knew the answer. And I’m not being facetious. I knew everything. String theory, relativity, quantum mechanics, theory of everything. Easy. Where do we come from? Where do we go after we die? Why are we here? The answer to everything was simple, elegant, and beautiful. And, as Occam’s Razor would suggest, it made sense that the answer to such questions would be simple. Darwin theorized on the origins of species. But I knew the full truth, what he tried to find but only made it part of the way. The Stoics discussed what it might mean to live a good life. But I knew exactly what a good life is supposed to look like, for everyone. Aquinas presented the five ways to prove God’s existence. I only needed one.

Answers

I was raised Mormon, and the answer to every question in my life was the Holy Ghost (Mormon for the Spirit of God). Now, the Holy Ghost isn’t the answer to every question, exactly, but even better - the tool that I could use to find the answer to any question, past, present, or future. God is the answer, and I discern the true answer of any question from God through the Holy Ghost. The scientific method is good, the Socratic method is useful, but they can only get us so far. To find answers, nothing ranks higher in the hierarchy of truth than feelings from the Holy Ghost. This comes in the form of a “burning in your bosom,” impressions to your heart and mind, clarity, love, a whisper, a thought. It comes when it comes in the form that it comes, and it’s up to us to recognize and interpret it. But it is undeniable.

Of course many religious leaders and faith traditions have stumbled around over the centuries, trying to interpret things the “right” way, trying to follow the Holy Ghost, all the while corrupting the pure, unadulterated truth as they go. But as luck or, more accurately, foreordination (i.e. before this life, God selected certain people to fulfill certain missions) would have it, all of these questions would receive the clarity that they deserve. We would no longer be left alone, trying to hear the voice of the Holy Ghost, fumbling along with the rest of humanity. God would make it easy for us, provide someone that has an even better, clearer channel to communicate with Him. A direct channel. We’re all standing in the back trying to hear God’s voice and understand what He’s saying. But God provided a microphone. And in the spring of 1820, God appeared to that microphone, and his name was Joseph Smith.

Joseph restored the whole truth, the fulness, and brought back everything that God wanted us to have. No longer must we debate what exactly Jesus meant in that one passage. No longer must we be lost in arguments about where exactly we go after death and how we get there. God’s prophet had THE answers. And I was lucky enough, or rather foreordained, to be born into a family with both parents that knew the truth and had the great privilege of teaching it to me.

As a child raised in an orthodox Mormon household, I didn’t have to worry about, quite literally, anything regarding my life. It was all mapped out, either directly or indirectly, by the prophet: how to spend each day of the week, what to do when I’m feeling down, who to date and when, what not to do/watch/hear/say/touch/feel/like, what to focus on when I vote, and what kind of underwear to wear once I reached the right age. Any question in life could be traced back to a statement by one or many prophets that helped guide me through the complexities of life. And I didn’t have to question any of it. This wasn’t hope, or faith, or belief. I knew. I was beyond believing. And I could not deny it.

So this is where the obvious question comes up for anyone not born into a fundamentalist faith tradition. It is perhaps the greatest question ever asked by any philosopher, scientist, or spiritual leader: “How do you know?”

At the birth of western philosophy, Plato wondered how we know what we say we know, something we now call epistemology. One must climb the “ladder of knowing” to see the world clearly, all of that. In the centuries that followed, Locke, Kant, Russell, and many others expanded on what it might mean to know something.

But I skipped all of that and went straight to the last chapter. Why mess around with algebra when I knew calculus. They tried their best based on what they knew, trying to find the answer in the dark with only a small flashlight. What they needed was to turn on the lights and the answer would present itself. God turned on the lights.

So the answer to “how do I know?” is easy. The Holy Ghost testified (Mormon for told me through feelings) to me that the prophet was a true (Mormon for real) prophet. So once I had that testimony (Mormon for knowledge), I didn’t have to figure anything else out. I would receive an answer from God and make sure it matched the answer from the prophet. I simply had to listen and do whatever the prophet said, and my life would be happy and healthy and, most importantly, on the covenant path (Mormon for living the Mormon lifestyle) toward eternal exaltation (Mormon for the top tier of heaven). My own spiritual experience is how I know. It is the evidence. And it is the purest form of evidence which supersedes all other evidence.

No Answers

So imagine being that person, raised from birth to believe exactly this way, with no reason to or method of questioning anything, for 30 years. Then imagine asking the simple question, “why?” a few times, following the line of questioning to their logical conclusions, and finding yourself a few years later facing existential dread, struggling to get out of bed, because “why?” Like any major shift in perception, things are disorienting for a while, because the world feels new and unknown, and you lack familiarity with this world.

When every day is a step forward on the covenant path, you don’t have any experience with wandering aimlessly.

When love is conditional, you don’t have any experience with loving and being loved unconditionally.

When there is a clear meaning of life, you don't have any experience with finding meaning in life.

When death is simply a transition, a holding period before you will be reunited with those that you love, you don't have any experience with grief. Real grief. The kind of grief where they’re dead and that’s it.

When you have all of the answers, you don't have any experience with uncertainty.

I was addicted to answers for 30 years. In fact, I propose that the most addictive drug in the world is “answers.” We love having answers, perhaps more than anything. We crave them. And there is no chemist who makes a product so pure and has a dealer so effective as the institution of religion. Is death too hard to cope with? This will make it go down smooth. Is life too messy? This will make it feel better. Do you wonder why bad things happen to good people? Do you wish that there was an explanation for everything? That everything happens for a reason? Here, take a hit of this and you’ll get the answers to all of that and more. Then take another hit. And another. I see you looking at those people over there that aren’t taking this. Doesn’t that look hard? Living without answers. Don’t you feel bad for them? Give them a little taste. Their mom just died? This will help them cope. She's not only actually dead, but she's in a better place, waiting for you in paradise. Doesn't that feel better? Here, take another hit. Don’t forget to pay of course. Drugs aren’t free. Now take another. There, everything is going to be okay. And another. And another. And another…

Getting off of this drug proves to be painful and incredibly challenging, thus further cementing its use as a killer (pun) analogy. Moving to an uncertain world changes the lens through which life is viewed. Everything looks different. More alive, exciting, and real, indeed. But also less defined. No longer are the trees and animals simply “put here for the use of man”. Now cutting down trees and killing animals feels a lot more like murder. The hubris of being “lords over our dominion (i.e. the Earth)” now rings hilarious and terrifying. The realization that we humans are simply tourists on this planet, and that life will move on long after we’re extinct. That Jesus isn’t coming back and peace on Earth is not an inevitability. It’s sobering and, frankly, a little scary. Coping with the idea that Jesus doesn’t really know me, that he’s not “there” for me, and that he didn’t actually choose me as a “noble and great one,” it’s sad. Like a child discovering the truth of Santa or losing their imaginary friend, there’s nothing fun or happy about it. When Truman left the Show (please make a sequel Jim), I’d bet he was excited and enchanted by this big new world. But it was probably also really challenging and disorienting.

And then there are the social consequences. I don’t call the Mormon church a cult, but certainly people can choose to personally treat it like one if they so choose. One good distinction between a religion and a cult is “how do they treat you when you leave?” So, depending on how people react shows you what role the church plays in their life on the spectrum of religion to cult. And often, you hesitate to share your sadness with those closest to you, because they will only see it as validation for why you shouldn’t leave. The greatest irony is that deprogramming religious indoctrination is what’s making you sad, not the lack of religion in your life. But they don’t see it that way and there’s nothing that you can do or say that will change, and accepting that is hard.

Grief

The Kubler-Ross model is a framework explaining the various stages of grief during a major life transition, typically losing a loved one.

Interestingly, it applies to losing one’s worldview, which is what really happens when you leave an orthodox belief system. It goes something like this:

Shock: Wait, what? What do you mean it’s all made up?

Denial: It can’t all be made up. This is my life. There must be at least some part of it that is true and real.

Frustration: Why did they teach me this stuff since I was a baby then? What do they have to gain? Why all of the time, money, pain? For what?!

Depression: So what is the meaning of life then? If we just die and that’s it, then what’s the point of anything? Does anything matter?

Experiment: What if life was beautiful because there is no meaning? What if life is simply meant to be lived? That there are things that make us happy and things that don’t. And it’s that simple? “Isn't it enough to see that a garden is beautiful without having to believe that there are fairies at the bottom of it too? - Douglas Adams”

Decision: What if I raised my kids to be free-thinkers, using questions and not answers, teaching them how to think, not what to think? What if I can do anything, change my mind anytime, and find truth and happiness wherever I find it? What if I simply need to follow my own conscience and moral compass?

Integration: Trust yourself. Shed all labels. Accept that you know nothing. Embrace wisdom. Love unconditionally. Experience the human condition. Be grateful to breathe. Marie Kondo your life, building it to maximize the moments where you can honestly say, “There is no place I’d rather be, no thing I’d rather be doing, no one I’d rather be with, and this I will remember well. - Albert Borgmann”

Embracing Uncertainty

Uncertainty is uncomfortable, often painfully so, often too painful to continue living. But it doesn’t need to be. Only when we’ve been trained to crave answers does uncertainty feel like it’s too much to handle. Once uncertainty is embraced, it can make life more alive and full of wonder than we ever thought possible. But the path is hard, sometimes brutal, so all I can say is much love to those who take the journey and realize just how bright and wonderful the world is.

When I was young I knew everything. Now I know nothing. And it’s the most terrifying and beautiful thing I’ve ever known.