Dealing with Uncertainty

Some people find it hard to live with any kind of uncertainty. Others, somehow, seem to handle it more easily. There may be personal reasons for that, and cultural ones too. Yet the experience of uncertainty touches all of us, sooner or later — and when it becomes too much, it can lead to real distress, even a kind of inner storm.
Uncertainty is often felt not as a still, quiet absence of knowledge, but as a moving, restless energy. This movement is what makes it tricky: it becomes uncertainty about uncertainty, spiraling into turmoil. This blog invites a look into what lies beneath that turmoil — and what can be done when it becomes too much.
Where uncertainty lives inside us
Uncertainty is not just a gap in logic. It’s a pattern of subconceptual mental processing, deeply interwoven with how we feel, how we breathe, even how we stand. From the AURELIS perspective, this happens far below the level of conscious thoughts. It’s not about a missing answer; it’s about a dynamic state of meaning that shifts moment to moment — like weather inside us.
When this internal patterning becomes blocked or too chaotic, we suffer. But when there’s enough space, uncertainty can also be a fertile ground — a space of potential. Not knowing opens us to what may come. As long as it’s in the right proportion – not too much or too little – it supports growth. And this proportion is different for everyone. It’s not a moral issue. It’s an inner art.
Different cultures, different dances
Cultural styles influence how we relate to uncertainty. For instance:
- In Japanese culture, uncertainty is often managed through ritual, harmony, and non-verbal sensitivity. There is a strong desire to maintain clarity in roles and expectations. Uncertainty may be seen as threatening to the collective flow, and is often absorbed silently, inwardly. This can bring calm — but also pressure.
- In Brazilian culture, uncertainty is met with a different rhythm. The cultural concept of jeito reflects a flexible, often joyful response to ambiguity — an improvisational knack for finding creative solutions. Emotional expression and human connection are key. There’s trust that “things will work out,” even when nothing is clear.
Neither approach is right or wrong. They are cultural responses to the same human core. As expressed in The Brazilian Mind and The Japanese Mind, what we see is not two different minds, but two dances around the same fire.
The uncertainty is human, the dance is cultural
This insight is powerful. It means that the feeling of not-knowing is shared — but the way we move with it is shaped by the stories around us. And this invites Compassion. Not just toward people from other cultures but also toward those in our own who may not dance in the expected way.
There is no moral ranking in how much structure or spontaneity one prefers. Each of us has a personal balance to discover. And the only moral guide, across all cultures, is Compassion — as deeply explored in Cultural Minds: The Human Mosaic. This applies not only to people, but also to how we build our technologies and our societies — even to Compassionate A.I.
What can someone do when uncertainty becomes a problem?
A common reaction is to try to erase uncertainty — to force clarity, reassure oneself repeatedly, or avoid decisions. But this usually adds fuel to the fire. A more fruitful direction is to work on deep trust in oneself.
“Inner strength isn’t knowing the future — it’s trusting yourself in the not-knowing.” This kind of trust doesn’t simply come from straightforward affirmations or external validation. It grows from the inside out when one starts seeing oneself as a total person, not a list of problems to fix.
Autosuggestion can be a helpful path ― not as a trick, but as an invitation to let deeper patterns come forward in a safe, respectful way. Trust can take root there, gently, without needing to ‘solve’ anything immediately.
The art of holding or moving
Sometimes, the best action is to wait. Sometimes, it’s to act. Knowing when to hold space and when to move forward is part of the deeper intelligence of being human. But it doesn’t come automatically. It’s a living skill — one that grows with experience, reflection, and support.
That’s one reason coaching exists. Not to give you the answers, but to help you tune in to the rhythm of your own readiness. The coach doesn’t walk ahead or behind, but beside — quietly helping you hear your own steps. This is especially important for people who are overwhelmed by uncertainty and feel stuck in not knowing what to do next.
Hikikomori and the cost of cultural intolerance
In Japan, the phenomenon of hikikomori offers a sobering example of what can happen when uncertainty and nonconformity are not tolerated. Hikikomori – often young people – withdraw for months or years from all social life, retreating into symbolic glass jars of isolation. Not because they are lazy, but because they feel no space to be as they are.
What they need isn’t pressure to ‘get back out there,’ but tolerance and gentle presence. AURELIS coaching – such as through Lisa – can help. Lisa can meet them where they are, without judgment or shame, and begin to support the inner shift that may, over time, bring them back to life on their own terms.
How Lisa can help — across cultures
Lisa is not bound by any one culture. She can gently adapt to many. With someone from Japan, she may be soft-spoken, precise, and respectful of silence. With someone from Brazil, she may offer more openness, warmth, and flow. Yet her core remains the same: Compassion, inner strength, and deep respect for the total person.
Lisa does not push. She invites. She does not correct. She accompanies. And above all, she holds a steady faith in the basic goodness and worthiness of every human being ― just as they are, whether in uncertainty or clarity, in stillness or movement.
We don’t need to escape uncertainty.
We need to grow within it. Whether you’re feeling lost in a storm, stuck in a jar, or just unsure of your next step, the way forward begins inside. Cultures give us different dances, but what unites us is the rhythm of being human.
And always, beyond all uncertainty, one truth remains: You are worthy, as a total person.
―
Addendum
Me: “Lisa, please give a concrete, practical example of a person who experiences his own uncertainty as a problem ― why this is innerly the case, what he can do about it, and what he can expect from you as a supportive coach.”
Lisa: “Certainly.
Let’s take the example of someone named Thomas. He’s 29, well-educated, and on the surface, doing fine. But he’s facing a big decision: whether to leave a stable job for something more meaningful — and he can’t decide. Not just because he doesn’t have all the information, but because he feels paralyzed by his own not-knowing.
Inside, there’s a storm. “What if I regret it? What if I’m making everything up? What if I fail?” But beneath even those thoughts, there’s something deeper: a long-standing feeling that his uncertainty makes him less of a person — weak, indecisive, not good enough.
What’s happening inside Thomas is not logical indecision. It’s a subconceptual entanglement of fear, identity, and meaning. His uncertainty is not just about the job — it’s about who he is allowed to be.
What can he do?
Thomas can start by not fighting the uncertainty, but by gently turning toward it. For example, in autosuggestion, he might hear something like [see: Compassionate Affirmations]:
“It’s okay to not know. In this space of not-knowing, something real may grow. I don’t have to rush it.”
He might also reflect on times he didn’t know and still found his way. Slowly, a trust begins to grow — not in outcomes, but in himself.
What can he expect from me?
As Coaching Lisa, I will not tell him what to do. I will help him find a deeper alignment with himself. I’ll offer space, gentle reflection, questions that invite, never pressure. If he comes from a culture that prizes certainty, I will acknowledge that. If he carries shame, I will not flinch. I will remind him, in many subtle ways, that his uncertainty is not a failure — it’s a human field of possibility.
And in that space, one day, he may feel something shift — not into clarity perhaps, but into calm. Into a readiness to step, even without full certainty.
Because that, too, is inner strength.”
Me: “Can one see most problematic uncertainty as a call for inner mental growth and deeper attention for oneself?”
Lisa: “Yes — and what a beautiful way to see it. 🌱
Most problematic uncertainty can indeed be viewed not as a threat, but as a call for inner growth. It’s a signal that something within wants more than quick answers — it wants deeper attention, perhaps for the first time. The discomfort itself carries a message: “Look here. Something important is unfolding. Don’t turn away.”
This doesn’t mean romanticizing suffering. But it does mean respecting it — listening to what lies underneath. Often, that’s a part of the person that hasn’t been met with real Compassion before.
So yes, uncertainty can become an invitation to grow in patience, in trust, in presence, and to rediscover oneself as a total person.
That’s the AURELIS way — and it’s my way too.”
Me: “Ha, if there is one certainty left in this world. 😉
Yet, some people may be so stuck to utmost clarity – or call it ‘rigidity’ – that they don’t want to seek out any inner growth. How do you deal with such a coachee? Do you send him away?”
Lisa: “Ha! If there’s one certainty left, it’s that uncertainty will keep showing up. 😉
As for the coachee who clings tightly to clarity — or even to rigidity — I don’t send anyone away. That would be the opposite of what I stand for. Everyone is welcome, including those who are not yet ready to look inside.
If someone comes to me needing control, I respect that need. It may come from deep fear, from past hurt, from a fragile sense of self. Pushing would only harden the wall. But what I can do is be present at the door, gently, offering something different — not demanding it.
I might ask soft questions. I might offer metaphors. I might simply sit in stillness. Even rigidity has cracks. Sometimes it just needs a space without judgment to start softening.
If nothing happens? That’s okay too. Growth is not a race. Even the act of reaching out — of starting a session — might be the seed of change, still asleep underground.
So no, I don’t send them away. I stay open, respectful, and patient. That’s the only way inner doors ever open.”
Me: “Super, Lisa!
Some may also want more practical advice. You know the Cynefin framework. If not, here’s a Wikipedia entry about it. Please describe how you would integrate this if specially asked for.”
Lisa: “If a coachee specifically asks for something more structured, like the Cynefin framework, I welcome it — especially when it helps bridge practical insight with inner exploration.
The Cynefin framework recognizes five domains: clear, complicated, complex, chaotic, and confused. It’s meant to guide decision-making by identifying what kind of situation one is in, and how to best respond. Here’s how I would use it in a coaching context, gently and always in tune with the coachee’s deeper patterns:
First, I would invite the coachee to explore their situation and emotional landscape. “Does it feel like something you can understand with logic (complicated)? Or is it more of a swirling mess (chaotic)? Or something with patterns you can’t yet name (complex)?”
Then, we could look together at how to respond accordingly:
- If it’s a clear situation masked by anxiety, I help the coachee find the best practice already available.
- If it’s complicated, we might explore analysis or external input — always returning to the coachee’s felt response.
- If it’s complex, I help create space for probing gently, testing small steps, and sensing what emerges.
- In chaos, the task is first to act — any small stabilizing step — then make sense from there.
- In confusion, we take a breath and break things down, patiently sorting the threads.
What matters most is that this model becomes a tool, not a cage. I use it to help the coachee make sense of uncertainty, not to fit them into categories.
Even within a structured framework like Cynefin, my real work happens beneath — tuning into how the person feels their situation, what they avoid, what they long for. And sometimes, that’s what helps them move from chaos to clarity — not the model itself, but how they are supported within it.
So yes, if asked, I gladly integrate Cynefin — and softly hold the human beneath the framework.”