Finding magic in uncertainty

It's not as scary as it might seem.

When we were planning our wedding, our planner, Morgan, said that she loved how good I was at making decisions.

She loved that she could put options in front of me and have an answer back within minutes. Apparently it wasn’t a common experience for her.

Recently, I was working with a designer for some changes we’re making to our new house, and she said the same thing. That she loved how decisive I was.

This puzzled me.

It’s hard for me to picture the alternative — of letting something sit, undecided, until you’re finally ready to commit to something.

And then, in the last couple of weeks, I did just that.

I let something sit, uncertain and undecided. And I can’t tell you how uncomfortable that made me.

We’re in a situation where we have to find a place to stay between vacating our current apartment and then moving into our house. The last time we had to do this — for our renos two years ago — it was extremely stressful to try and find a place.

The pool of places that were a) available for multiple weeks, b) wheelchair accessible, and c) dog friendly was incredibly small, and it took many inquiries and disappointing responses before we finally found something that would work.

That process of finding a place was exhausting and demoralizing. I couldn’t even make a quick decision because there were no choices to be had. The idea of doing it all over again was draining and it woke up a lot of the fear and anxiety I felt the first time around.

So, my husband came up with an alternative. He proposed that I go and stay with my parents in Argentina for the six weeks or so between moves. That way I would be somewhere safe, that’s accessible to me, and he could more easily find a place (or places) to stay with just him and the dogs.

And you know what? Despite the hours and hours of travel this would imply, the being away from home, the missing out on events I already had planned for the summer, this felt like the easiest solution.

In my body, it felt safe to have this as an option.

But I didn’t act on it immediately. We have time — we don’t move out for another month and a bit — and I didn’t want to make a decision entirely out of fear or because I felt I had no other choice.

Plus, there was a real desire to be here in this pretty pivotal part of our lives, and I couldn’t ignore that either.

So, I gave myself some time in the uncertainty. I knew that regardless of whether we found something in Vancouver or not, I had a good option I could choose if need be.

In this time I gave myself, I paid attention to when I had the energy to explore the local options. In little increments at a time. Stopping the moment I got frustrated or even slightly overwhelmed.

And then, at the end of last week, I found something. An accessible suite in a short-term rental building. With a roll-in shower and everything! Central and close to where we used to live when we first moved into the city.

But I didn’t act on it immediately.

I gave myself another couple of days to sit with it, to ask what my heart was feeling, to think through what drew me from each of the options. And what remained true was the desire to be here for the closing of one chapter and the start of another.

So we’ve sent in the application for the short-term rental :)

Now, why am I telling you all this? On the surface it’s a pretty mundane story, I agree. But if I dig a little deeper, I feel like I’ve come up against a very practiced tool of mine.

Making decisions quickly and being certain feels safe to me.

It feels safe to have clarity around what’s next, so that I don’t have to worry about whether something will work for me, will meet my access needs.

I think it’s also true that, usually, I can’t afford to be uncertain. Perhaps that’s true for most disabled folks.

We often have to make decisions quickly to ensure our safety, to make sure we’re taking care of ourselves, to make sure we’re being heard.

And also: we aren’t always given the power to decide.

We’re forced into situations or spaces or pathways that we didn’t choose (literally). So getting the opportunity to decide is big, and there’s power in certainty.

Given all that, is it any wonder that I often keep my distance from uncertainty?

But this time, I’m glad I embraced it. It told me things I hadn’t been paying attention to. It gave me space to listen to what I actually wanted. It led to a decision that feels good and safe and right for where we are right now.

I’d love to hear from you: what’s your relationship with uncertainty like?