“The space in between”

Eps 3

I’d like to say I’m quite self-aware, so I’ve always noticed certain patterns in myself, the relationship between uncertainty, anxiety, and my attempts to control outcomes, whether they’re actually within my control or not. Side eye.

I just don’t like being unsure.

I’ve realized that uncertainty itself isn’t necessarily the problem. It’s what happens to me when I’m in it.

When something has happened but I don’t yet know how it will turn out, I find myself in the space in between.

And that’s where anxiety tends to show up.

If there’s something I can do to influence an outcome, I’ll usually try. If there isn’t, I overthink it. I analyze. I investigate. I replay things in my head. I look for clues.

Basically, I try to find a way out of the uncertainty.

But sometimes there isn’t one—not yet, anyway.

And that is a difficult place for me to sit.

Let me give you an example.

I write an exam, and I can’t seem to stop thinking about it until the results are out. I’ll replay questions, wonder whether I got things right, and think about what I could have done differently.

I’m in the space in between.

The exam is over, but the outcome isn’t known yet.

Then the results come out.

Whether I pass or fail, something in me settles. Of course, I’ll be happy if I pass and disappointed if I don’t, but at least there’s an outcome.

At least I’m not in between.

Because, oh, anxiety loves an unanswered question.

And I’m usually right there, feeding it with overthinking, investigating, and analyzing. Some of this may even come from my career path. My audit mind creeps in and suddenly everything is a potential issue requiring further investigation.

I do the same thing with people.

I can send someone a message and tell them to take all the time they need to think about what I’ve said before responding. I have literally given them permission to respond whenever they’re ready.

And yet, there I am, refreshing my inbox twenty times in fifteen minutes.

At intervals, I’ll remind myself, You literally told them not to respond immediately.

Yes. but I’d have a lot more peace if they responded immediately.

It’s funny when I catch myself doing it because I know exactly what I’m doing.Its ridiculous!

But underneath the joke is something I’ve had to admit about myself: I really like knowing where things stand.

When I don’t know, my mind wants to fill in the blanks.

And sometimes the blanks get filled with things that aren’t even true.

I’ve noticed the same thing in situations where I’ve wanted closure. When I didn’t know where I stood with someone or whether something could be resolved, my instinct was to ask for another conversation, another explanation, another piece of information that might finally give me an answer.

Looking back, I can see how much of that was also my discomfort with being in the space in between.

But relationships, or friendships, or any ships, really, take two people.

I can communicate, explain myself, ask questions, and make an effort to resolve things. But I can’t control another person’s thoughts, mindset, decisions, or actions.

Sometimes you can do your part and still not get the clarity or outcome you hoped for.

And that’s difficult for someone like me, because my instinct is usually to do something when I don’t know what happens next.

But sometimes, there is simply nothing left to do.

You just have to wait.

And waiting is hard when you’re someone who wants answers.

The truth is, uncertainty is part of life.

There will always be things we don’t know yet. Outcomes we can’t predict. Questions we can’t answer immediately. Conversations we have to wait for. Doors we don’t know whether they’ll open or close.

We can’t always know everything. We can’t get everything right. We can’t control every outcome.

Sometimes things are simply outside our hands.

And sometimes the healthiest thing we can do is let them stay there.

Let your nervous system rest.

Breathe.

You don’t have to solve everything simply because you’re uncomfortable with not knowing.

And this is where I find myself thinking about my faith.

As a Christian who has surrendered my life to Christ and to the will of God, what does surrender really look like if I’m constantly trying to take back control the moment I find myself in the space in between?

I know God has carried me through difficult things before. When I look back at my life, He has a track record.

So why is it easier for me to trust Him with the big things than with the little, mundane, everyday uncertainties?

Why do I need to know how something will turn out before I can rest?

Why can’t I trust Him in the middle of the uncertainty, instead of only finding peace once I know how the story ends?

Maybe that’s the part I’m still learning.

Maybe surrender isn’t about never feeling anxious when I don’t know what happens next.

Maybe it’s learning that I don’t have to know what happens next to be okay.

It’s 1:30 a.m. as I write this, and I’m lying in bed pondering all of this and asking myself these questions.

I don’t have all the answers yet.

And perhaps, for tonight, I don’t need to.

Maybe I just need to rest.

And maybe you need to rest too.

Maybe you’re in your own space in between right now, waiting for an answer, an outcome, a conversation, or some clarity that hasn’t come yet.

I don’t know what your particular “in between” looks like.

I’m still learning how to sit in mine without trying so hard to escape it.

Maybe that’s enough for tonight.

Until next time,

Stay restful 🤍