On Uncertainty

I thought I had a pretty good grasp on uncertainty. There was the time I moved to Denmark without housing lined up. Or when I flew to Japan not entirely sure the job I'd moved for was actually secured.

I’ve moved abroad. Changed jobs. Started over in places where I didn’t know a single person, and through that, I developed a certain pride in being able to operate in uncertainty.

That’s not to say I don’t still feel that way, but it’s harder now to see myself as that brazen, unbothered version of me.

As it stands, this is my life segmented in phases:

“Phase 1: Classic academic holding pattern ( highschool -> university)”

“Phase 2: Scandinavian internship (added some extra emotional complexity and a stress induced bald spot that’s still growing back)”

“Phase 3: Japan expansion pack (had some fumbles and tumbles but successfully leveled-up second language)”

“Phase 4: Making it up as I go (full freestyle and vibe based moves) ”

With hindsight, I can see that I've always moved forward with a predetermined direction. It gave me more security than I realized.

It’s now been one and a half months since my contract ended in Japan and I feel like I'm suspended in a strange in-between place where the last thing has ended but the next thing hasn't come. At first, life was pretty darn grand. The translating job I had was the most time demanding position I had ever experienced (6 sometimes 7 days a week, sometimes 10 hour days) so all the time I had to do whatever I wanted felt magical. I was regaining a sense of what I felt and looked like outside a team tracksuit, constantly scanning for people to translate between.

After about those first two three weeks of seeing friends and getting back to my pre-work exhausted self, the novelty wore off. I started feeling strange self pressure to have something that I can identify with. I would anxiously scan start-up platforms and job sites looking for something perfect. Something that’d give me an anchor for who I was and what I could do. Because I’ve realized that as long as I have a job, a project, or a goal, it buffers that certain emptiness that comes with being human. I wanted this emptiness silenced. I wanted another cool job. Mostly, I wanted to be able to tell myself I was moving in a direction. Not to mention the painful awkwardness of telling people oh yeah no I don’t (really) have a plan. Which personally I think should be a perfectly adequate answer.

This also came with a hyperawareness of how put together and focused other people seem in terms of what they do. I found myself wanting to be an app developer, a DJ/hairstylist, a youtuber, a remote software developer who seemed to live half his life in airports. But I don’t actually see myself as a youtuber or a software developer. What I wanted was that alluring piece of what each of these people had - self assurance. Assurance in what they did and the ability to talk about it in a way that made them interesting, something that I used to have. Whether we like to admit it or not, this type of thing does give you credibility and a level of calm-thisiswhatido.

Now, all of a sudden, feeling naked, I was grasping for the clothes that looked to fit others so perfectly.

What’s funny is that I chose this in-between, unknowing space. I knew I’d have time after my contract to do nothing, and now that I’m here, I realize I’ve developed a new definition of uncertainty.

Before, uncertainty meant movement. New places, new jobs, one-way tickets, figuring things out as I went. This feels different. There’s no destination attached, no next thing already waiting, no container or title to hold it together. Just time, space, and the uncomfortable responsibility of choosing something without knowing what it becomes.