Unsure? Good.

Someone somewhere taught us that being sure equals being safe. Certainty became our holy grail, our life’s work. But certainty is actually more like one of those heavy metal, pull down doors small shops use to keep anyone from breaking in when they close for the day. Certainty lets nothing in. It also lets nothing out. It keeps things constant. That’s another word that’s been coopted to sound purely positive but can also represent something that slowly poisons your existence like too much Bella Donna. Bella Donna — the very name is beautiful and yet too much will kill you. Certainty rarely physically kills us. It could if we thought something wasn’t poison and we drank it anyway, certain that it was not. But make no mistake certainty can capture our soul and freeze-frame it in an instant-camera photo that never changes except to fade over time. We lose our ability to grow when we are certain, and that is the very definition of death. But we are afraid of feeling afraid. We are afraid of feeling the good feelings too, because we fear they will end. We start lying to ourselves and to everyone else. We put all of our energy into keeping up appearances especially when we look in the mirror. We worry about clouds when we feel the sun. We fear any storm has the potential to end us. I know I won’t be purposely putting a fork into any electrical outlets this coming year. I am certain about that. I think I’ll just stop there.