Nothing makes me insecure

Dharma Notes

8 May

I sent a message to a dear friend, and they haven’t replied. Things have felt a little off for a while—I don’t know why. Nothing’s happened between us, but now this: silence.

To be fair, it’s only been a few days, but my mind is frantically trying to fill the empty space with reasons. Are they upset with me for not visiting when I was in the UK? Do they think I’m holding something against them from the summer? Maybe they believe I disapprove of their choices. Or perhaps... they’re just bored of me? The truth is: I don’t know.

Do you like a murder mystery? Or prefer an episode of Grand Designs? Or maybe you’re a fan of David Attenborough’s nature programmes? Though they seem wildly different, they all share one thing: an unknown that needs to be known. Whether it’s figuring out whodunnit in Midsomer Murders, wondering if they’ll get the roof on within budget, or hoping the polar bear makes it through the winter, we’re drawn in by the need to solve a problem.

The mind loves a problem. So when there’s a vacuum—an unresolved situation—it rushes in, treating it like a puzzle that must be solved.

We’re in the middle of buying a house right now, and here are just a few of the unknowns:

Will the survey show up any problems?
Have we offered too much?
Will we get a buyer for our place?
And how much will it sell for?
Will we need a new roof? How much would that cost?
What kind of wallpaper would look good in the bedroom?
Will the shoe rack fit in the hall?

We actually have the answer to all these questions, and a thousand more that are keeping us awake at night. The answer is: we don’t know.

But we can’t settle for that. Instead, we speculate. We loop through every possible answer, playing out each scenario. In fact, if we cut out speculation entirely, we’d probably reduce our daily communication by about 80%.

I’ve always known speculation is, at best, a waste of time—and at worst, an exhausting way of ramping up anxiety. And yet, it’s oddly addictive. I suppose that’s part of how we’ve evolved into such sophisticated problem-solvers.

Maybe the next stage of evolution is learning to be at peace with not knowing. To sit in the discomfort of uncertainty without needing to fill it.

Why not give it a try—give up speculating for 24 hours and see what happens?

I decided to call the friend. They were delighted to hear from me. "Ah, sorry I never replied to your message," they said. "I was so happy to hear from you."