It has taken me a long time to accept that the concepts of life and uncertainty are inseparable. First, I had to explore how the mind constructs a tiny world and a limited idea of ourselves, so that our entire existence unfolds within that small space. And then, how it clings fiercely to it—to the familiar—offering us a false sense of security. Eventually, we believe the illusion. This makes us force, again and again, what we think must remain unchanged, while simultaneously developing an irrational aversion to change, which we come to perceive as a threat that will lead to loss. At this point, resistance is absolute, and the idea of stepping beyond it makes no sense.
Why not ask ourselves if change could actually bring us some kind of benefit, if it could help us grow or evolve? Perhaps this is a more practical and functional perspective. After all, we are bound to transformation—both external and internal. And yes, it comes with uncertainty. But choosing to stay as we are and convincing ourselves that “we’re not that bad” is, in the long run, more painful. Because once that spark—the one that urges us to question something—has appeared, it will likely grow stronger over time, no matter how much we try to silence it. Continuing as we are and rejecting possible alternatives becomes increasingly uncomfortable. Ignoring it is what prevents us from seeing the opportunities hidden behind the uncertainty we fear.
I lived like that for a long time. To the point of holding on to people and situations that were disastrous for me. In my case, change came suddenly. Without time to prepare or process it, and accompanied by a deep crisis. Inevitable, because I had ignored all those "sparks" too many times before, escaping however I could. But it doesn’t have to be that way. It can be a more harmonious experience—especially if it stems from a firm personal choice: if everything will change sooner or later, with or without our consent, we might as well choose.
And what happened? The usual: nothing. Life goes on. It doesn’t stop. And what did it give me? A winding road filled with darkness that, in the long run, turned into light. Into evolution. Into progress. Into more peace. Into a deeper understanding of who I am and what life is. It gave me the push I needed to become a more complete and more aware person.
Accepting that insecurity will always be with us, no matter where we are, and that we cannot control the future but can prepare to face it in the best possible way, makes us stronger and more resilient. It sets us free.
What I have learned is that everything becomes simpler when we accept that life is fleeting and in constant, silent transformation—even when we don’t perceive it. That sometimes, cycles have already served their purpose. That it is possible to embrace the uncertainty that unsettles us so much. After all, our existence would be meaningless if we knew every event in advance. By denying life’s transience, we are ultimately denying its magic.
Our final transformation in this plane will be death. Until then, let’s play this game. That’s what we’re here for.
Shine.
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