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| At it again...all for you. |
The Most Brilliant Woman in the World
"Do you own a gun?" asked Jazz Drummer (JD) from Berlin, Germany.
"Yes, I do," I answered.
He shook his head. "I'm...disappointed. Nobody in Berlin uses guns."
He was misinformed about gun use in Berlin.
But I didn't care to follow that line of discussion, instead attempted to pull the conversation around to music, the thing we both had in common. The man proceeded to ask a series of questions about certain U.S. politicians, current and past. He did not like my answers.
On my way home that night from the Jazz Jam, I reviewed the exchange and JD's reactions to anything I said. You see, given my answer to the gun ownership question, JD was absolutely certain he knew all about me.
JD was surprised to find I didn't give him the answers he expected. His dead certainty rendered null all his arguments for whatever point it was he wanted to make that night. I still don't know what it was he wanted to say.
What I do know is that, as I answered him honestly, he refused to accept anything I said, and stated definitively that I was not living up to my potential while also being a hypocrite.
I always give everyone opportunity to explain what they mean. That opportunity includes asking them questions, listening to their answers, comparing those to what was previously said, and then asking for more clarification.
This threw JD off his stride. When he found he could not intimidate or confuse me with what he thought was his brilliant logic, he closed his eyes halfway through a diatribe, pretending to be enraptured with the sounds of a drum solo coming out the front door onto the walkway.
So I waited for him to finish his thought, but he kept his eyes closed. After two minutes of watching him stand against the brick wall, I said, "Oh, he wants me to go away!" So, I did, and went back inside.
A few minutes later, JD came in and walked by me three times. On his last pass, he leaned over me and said, "Hey, ummm...you know...the drums..." He shrugged and went back to the bar where he proceeded to allow yet another person to buy the famous guy yet another beer.
Of course, JD, of course. Let me tell you what confused JD about me: He couldn't understand how it was I was not dead certain about anything he was certain about. If he had asked, I would have told him, "JD, uncertainty is my discipline."
Being uncertain allows for the inclusion of more facts and opens paths for more solutions. Uncertainty expands the conversation, it does not shut it down.
I find myself being all too human, though, not liking the state of uncertainty, preferring life to be ordered and all big questions answered so that I can get on with whatever it is I want to get on with. That is why rigid and strong religious beliefs and political ideologies can gain footholds so fast. The state of uncertainty is not one that humans like to be in.
Most humans would rather be told what to do and live within those confines even if it means dying or killing for something they've never given thought to. To question is to paint a big old target on your chest that says "Kill the thinker", and they don't want to be a target.
As I look back on my life, I've come to realize that uncertainty has always been my discipline, but that for a long time, just to get along, I pretended it was not. I pretended to believe that the answers were known. During these times I was unhappy because of living a lie. As I allowed myself to again recognize uncertainty as a powerful state — one that was not bad, one that enhanced my belief in God — then my happiness returned.
Sure, not having all the answers causes me anxiety, but it is an anxiety that is much less painful than living a life built upon false promises and half-baked but dead certain ideas.
Uncertainty never promises anything except that it will always be there, true to itself, and faithful to me. Uncertainty guarantees a great conversation, something JD will never have.
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