Radical Certainty, as a Space

“Doubt is out, Intuition is in.” The phrase echoed in my mind. I sat contemplating these words realising it could very possibly be true. The book I had been reading failed to expand upon this sentence so I began defining a new description of the expression. ‘Doubt is out’ – to wilfully deny one’s true power through the disconnection or suppression of one’s instinct in an attempt for blind acceptance. ‘Intuition is in’ – an alternative preference to trust one’s gut feeling, and finally acknowledge its superiority over any second-rate conclusion by others. Doubt and intuition are a conscious choice, so why does the space of doubt over intuition, seem so safe?

I must admit, I have been working on this article for over 2 hours now due to a number of factors that ignite my own self-doubt and cause me to question the very topic of this article. As I try and write, I have a roommate moving in, another moving everything in the house creating an insane amount of noise, and I’m struggling to concentrate because I loaned my computer to someone for most of the week to help them out as a favour, and am playing catch-ups on article writing. My head is pounding with a brain explosion, I’m seated on the floor, with items piled everywhere because my life is condensed into a tiny room and everything else remains in boxes in the garage. I’m ignoring the hours ticking by because I have not done anything for myself all week, and I’ve resolved myself to no dinner for I would rather feed my soul with words than waste more time battling the world for survival. As my doubt creeps in, suggesting it’s not worth the hassle and I should just switch off to Netflicks or a similar activity and narrow my expectations of life, my instinct reminds me that this action brings me joy, ignites my passion, and is certain to generate future opportunities in life. My radical certainty as a space, has the ability to override external environmental influences that could easily defer my path to happiness; and by expanding this belief, I am able to overcome the intensity of uncontrollable factors that may subdue my resilience.

These words are the best truth I can summon as a definition of radical certainty. As a space, it does not make sense – how can anyone live in the chaos of an undignified mess. Well, in an ideal world my reality would look different, and I am still coming to terms with my current situation. To gain perspective, I step back and recognise the transitional space for what it is – an adjustment. Somehow underneath it all, there is this strong willpower more powerful than any external influence that tells me otherwise, and while I’m struggling to put it into words, I recognise my vulnerability as visibility of my efforts. To ground myself in a tiny flicker of radical blind faith, one’s instinct must be incredibly fierce, and this confidence fuels the courage to breathe deeply and look forward with ease.

This feeling of strange certainty is nothing new to me. I recall two favourite phrases repeated incessantly during my teens, aimed at cutting me down to size. “Men don’t marry radical thinkers” and “you won’t find enlightenment through feminist studies.” That’s my grandmother and my mother for you. Suffice to say, I continued reading books well beyond my comprehension during the long commute to school, building the foundations of my thoughts in my own creative way. My sense of certainty was strong, for I was drawn to the ideas from these authors ballsy enough to stick their necks out during a time of conventional beliefs. My understanding of enlightenment was not of an indo-chinese monk meditating on a mountain top his entire life, but of everyday individuals brave enough to speak up against a perceived injustice. These authors, later also encapsulating philosophers, psychologists, and social scientists, published risky ideas to question the sureness of mainstream understanding. Their fluidity of thinking reminds people that while many of these great thinkers published incredible works of literature, many authors adapted or even completely changed their minds on a number of topics during their lifetime. Radical beliefs were different and confronting, but never quite permanent, so to outline this sensation in real time is a very honest and true-to-form act.

My entire article had better examples, compelling arguments, and interesting stories, but I cannot shrug off the honesty of imagining the daily life of a radical thinker in real time. Perhaps self-doubt appeared at breakfast for Carl Jung, unsettled by a dream about someone cutting his hair. Or Betty Friedan struggled to find the conviction to skip her children’s bake-sale and type another chapter of her book. Or maybe on the eve of a new adventure, Charles Darwin recognised that he preferred the comforts of his favourite lounge chair to the travelling conditions in far away countries. All these moments of being human exist for a reason, if not to compel movement, but to challenge one’s tolerance for discomfort. In this instance I cannot offer inspiration but rather a hard dose of reality – this is how life goes.