The Unknown: Living Inside the Questions
Not everything must be named to be trusted.
The unknown is not empty — it is a threshold that remakes us.

Lately, I feel like my whole life is an exercise in the unknown. My relationships shifting. My role as a mother stretched in ways I didn’t expect. The messy reality of caregiving, where nothing stays predictable for more than a day.

There are mornings when I wake up already bracing for the next curveball — the bureaucracy, the school chaos, the phone call that will change the rhythm again. It’s exhausting. And yet, the truth is: this is the shape of beginnings. Not neat, not ordered, but jagged and alive.

I used to think the unknown meant I was failing — that if I had my life “together,” I would have certainty. But I see now that the opposite is true. Growth has always come for me in the moments I didn’t know what was next. When I had to leave what worked behind. When people walked away and didn’t come back. When I had to build something from nothing and sit with the fear that maybe it wouldn’t work.

Entrepreneurship feels like that every single day. So does parenting. So does love, when you’re brave enough to do it honestly. The unknown isn’t a punishment — it’s the fire where we’re forged.

And yes, it feels like a soap opera sometimes, dramatic, messy, all the characters disappearing and reappearing at inconvenient times. But that’s real life. And maybe that’s the point. The unknown isn’t here to be tamed. It’s here to remind us that we’re still alive enough to be surprised.

Ritual Invitation

Write down one question that haunts you right now.
Fold the paper and place it beneath a candle or stone.
Don’t try to solve it. Let the unknown carry it for a while.

Your Turn

What unknown are you living inside right now?
Share it below — not the answer, just the question. Sometimes naming the question is the beginning of wisdom.