When the whole picture isn't available, perhaps we need to start with what we actually know.
Not knowing everything doesn't mean knowing nothing.
Ground. I've written before about my spectacular dislike of Not Yet. About wanting the plan, preferably accompanied by dates, timings and some indication of when I can expect whatever comes next to GET A BLOODY MOVE ON.
So my discomfort with uncertainty is hardly breaking news.
What happens when we don't have the whole answer, but we do have some of it? I've certainly struggled with that this year.
There have been periods when some of the big answers simply haven't been available. And when there's a big enough gap in what I know, I've discovered that my brain is perfectly capable of filling it. Usually not with puppies and rainbows!
Give me a gap, throw in some fear, exhaustion or overwhelm, and I can catastrophise with the best of them.
The particularly irritating thing is that I can know I'm doing it. I can recognise that I've taken something that might happen and run with it until it feels not only possible, but extremely bloody likely.
Knowing you're catastrophising doesn't necessarily stop the catastrophe feeling real.
And someone telling me everything will be fine isn't terribly helpful either. They don't know that any more than I do.
What helps is finding my way back to what is actually there.
What do I know? What don't I know? And what am I currently catastrophising into the space between the two?
Those questions don't magically produce missing information. But they can create a small piece of terra firma for me to stand on.
Perhaps that's what I've started to understand differently. I don't always need the whole map. Sometimes I just need enough solid ground for where my feet are now.
That might be a date, a decision that's been made, knowing when the next conversation will happen or simply knowing that nothing more can be known until a particular point.
Sometimes the fact is simply: we don't know yet.
Which sounds remarkably similar to uncertainty, I know.
But there's a difference between floating around in a giant fog of who the hell knows? and understanding where the edges of what is known currently sit.
When I discovered our belongings couldn't arrive at our new house as quickly as I'd hoped, I promptly disappeared into another loop of frustration about what we couldn't do.
Ash, rather more usefully, pointed out that the delay gave us a window to decorate before everything arrived.
Same facts.
Different relationship with them.
And I think that matters beyond my ability to turn a house-move delay into a personal affront.
I see something similar in organisations when change is happening and nobody has the complete picture. Leaders wait until they have enough certainty to communicate, while everyone else stands in the gap.
And gaps rarely stay empty.
People speculate, interpret and construct their own explanations. If one frightened human brain can create an impressive catastrophe out of incomplete information, imagine what fifty of them can do together.
Perhaps what matters isn't having every answer, but being honest about where things stand. What is known, what isn't and when there might be something more to say.
Because facts don't remove emotion.
People can know exactly what's happening and still be frightened by it. Or furious. Or disappointed. Or relieved.
And that applies to me, too.
There have been days this year when I've danced, laughed, sung and felt completely full of joy. And days when I've hit the wall and snot-cried as though I might never stop.
Sometimes remarkably close together.
Neither one makes the other untrue.
I can know the facts and still feel floored by them. I can be hopeful and frightened. I can be coping brilliantly until suddenly I'm not.
And perhaps that's another reason to keep finding my way back to what I actually know, rather than everything I'm imagining might happen.
Because I've begun to realise something.
I thought I wanted facts. Quite often, what I've actually wanted is certainty. And those aren't the same thing.
Facts can tell me where things stand today. What has happened, what's been decided, what hasn't and what the next known point is.
They cannot necessarily tell me how the story ends. And perhaps I've spent rather too much energy wanting them to.
Living with prolonged uncertainty has sometimes made me cautious about the future. I've caught myself wondering how I can possibly book something three months from now when I don't know what will be happening.
Which can very easily become: How can I make any decision until I know?
And before long, uncertainty about the future starts reducing what I'm willing to choose in the present.
I'm still working that one out.
But perhaps I can learn to come closer in. Find the ground that actually exists rather than yearning for the enormous concrete platform of certainty that doesn't.
And decide what I can do from there.
Perhaps that's all facts can really offer us.
Not certainty.
And when there simply isn't any more ground available yet, I'm wondering whether there's something else I'd rather practise holding.
Hope.
Not the shiny sort that insists everything will be fine. Not an attempt to think positively enough to make difficult things disappear.
Something quieter than that.
I don't know what will happen, but I haven't abandoned the possibility of something good.
Bobby Davis is a qualified executive and team coach with extensive experience in organisational development, business change (the people angle), human resources and personal leadership.
Her coaching experience is against a backdrop of 30+ years working in managerial and human resources/OD roles in the British Army, Not for Profits, Professional Services and most recently with a private equity owned Hotel Group.
She has led the People “strand” within large business transformation programmes, creating people strategies, internal coaching schemes and embedding strong performance cultures, as well as supporting at all levels of an organisation to implement effective change.
She is absolutely passionate in her pursuit to support, challenge and deliver sustainable change for individuals, teams and organisations, one person at a time if necessary!
You can catch her for a chat about coaching, using your body better as a leader and/or supporting you in HR/OD here Bobby Davis FCIPD PCC | LinkedIn
And check out her dulcet tones in “More Than A Lumpy Jumper” - Conversations about Leadership, Life and Learning here More Than a Lumpy Jumper | Podcast on Spotify
