In a world built on forecasts and risk management, learning to live with uncertainty may be the most underdeveloped leadership skill of all.
A few months ago, I went to see a therapist — not because something was breaking, but because something inside me had tightened. The world felt unpredictable. South Africa’s systems, economy, and future all seemed fragile, and beneath that, so did I. I started doing what I know best: planning my way to peace. I read news, checked X for updates, followed forecasts, and ran different scenarios in my head of what might happen next. Each plan was meant to help me feel more in control. Instead, I became more unsettled.
At one point, I said to her,“I feel unsafe and unsure in various parts of my life.”She listened quietly, then took me back to Psychology 101 —focus on what you can control: your response.It was the simplest truth, and I had completely missed it. Somewhere between trying to fix the future and stay informed, I had forgotten how to stay present.
Of course, I can already hear the jokes —“Even psychologists need therapy!”Yes, we do. Probably more than most. We collect people’s stories for a living; it is only fair that the load eventually collects in us, too. There is a running joke that psychologists have the most problems, and after those sessions, I could not even argue. The difference is that we usually turn our issues into frameworks.
Around the same time, two friends offered wisdom that landed even deeper. One said,“You cannot prepare for the unknown.”It hit like a truth I did not want to hear. The other said,“You already have the skills to navigate what comes.”That one reminded me that strength is not something to acquire — it is something to remember. Those two lines dismantled the illusion of control and rebuilt trust in its place.
The psychology of uncertainty
Uncertainty is not just psychological; it is biological. When the brain cannot predict what comes next, it activates the same circuitry as when it perceives a physical threat. That is why even scrolling headlines can make your chest tighten. Your body does not know that load-shedding updates are not life-threatening — it just knows something is uncertain. We call it anxiety, but it is often simply the body trying to find footing in fog.
The irony is that the more we try to plan our way through uncertainty, the more trapped we feel. Control feels like strength, but over time, it becomes its own source of stress. Vigilance masquerades as competence — until it burns through our energy and erodes our peace.
Containment, not control
The real skill is not control; it is containment. To hold uncertainty without letting it hollow you out. Containment might look like limiting exposure to what you cannot influence, shortening your planning horizon, or using symbolic acts to offload what your mind keeps replaying. It is less about escaping uncertainty and more about creating enough structure to stand inside it without collapsing.
For me, this turned into a living practice. I started writing instead of overthinking, took up tactical shooting and Krav-Maga, and used my own Offload material to release the load rather than analyze it. It was not about being “fine” — it was about making room for what I could not fix.
Returning to trust
The unknown is not a problem to solve; it is a condition to inhabit. When we stop looking for clarity, we start noticing capacity. When we stop asking “what if,” we begin to see “what is.” The goal is not to feel ready for everything — it is to remain grounded in the middle of anything.
If you are living with uncertainty — financial, relational, or existential — you are not behind. You are simply human. You do not need a five-year plan to survive the fog. Sometimes peace is just the quiet confidence that you will meet tomorrow with what you already carry today.
When the world feels unsafe, build safety where you stand. Release the load that does not belong to you, and trust that your next step will appear when it is time to take it.