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In trying to process my anxiety about what is to come – what the future looks like, what comes next anyway – I had a discussion with my sister.
We imagined a world in which I could get a completely clear answer about my future with PSP. Dates. Timelines. Symptoms. Exactly when things would change and exactly how they would change.
Then we came up with a simple thought experiment.
Imagine 100 people are each handed a piece of paper and told:
“On the other side of this paper is a detailed map of your life. It tells you exactly what happens from beginning to end. Do you want to turn it over?”
My answer surprised me.
I don’t think I would.
In fact, I suspect most people wouldn’t.
As it turns out, there is research that suggests that may be true. In a study highlighted by the American Psychological Association, 85–90% of people said they would not want to know about future negative events. Even more interestingly, many people also chose not to know about positive future events, and only 1% consistently wanted to know everything about their future. The researchers suggested that people may avoid such knowledge to prevent suffering, avoid regret, and preserve the suspense that gives life some of its meaning. [apa.org]
That resonated with me.
The reason isn’t that I think I can somehow avoid PSP if I make all the right choices. I can’t.
But I do believe that my choices still matter. I can take my medication. I can manage stress as well as I can. I can do yoga. I can exercise. I can eat the right foods. I can try to avoid unnecessary risks.
None of these things guarantees a particular outcome. None of them changes the fact that I have PSP. But they are all things within my control. They are all ways of influencing how I live with this condition and how I respond to it.
A complete map of my future would feel like a challenge to that sense of agency.
If I already knew exactly what was going to happen and when, I think every decision would be measured against that knowledge. Every symptom would come with a countdown. Every milestone would be anticipated long before it arrived. Instead of helping me, I suspect that knowledge would become its own burden.
When I compare the two, I think the stress of knowing would be greater than the anxiety of not knowing.
So I come back to my faith.
I have to trust in Someone higher who already knows what lies ahead and who still has good in mind for me. My job is not to know the future. My job is to do the work in front of me, make the best decisions I can with the information I have, and respond faithfully to whatever situation I’m given.
Does that completely take away my anxiety about not knowing what’s going to happen?
No.
But it feels like a much better way to live than carrying the weight of knowing every detail.
I still don’t know what comes next. I still have days when uncertainty weighs heavily on me. But perhaps progress isn’t getting rid of uncertainty.
Perhaps progress is learning to live with it.
And I think I’ve made some progress, anyway.
