“Uncertainty” is one of those words we all seem to understand right now.
It exists in the current headlines of war and crisis as much as it does in our emails, meetings, Town Halls that quietly carry on in parallel.
It shows up in collective grief – of lives lost, of systems breaking, of certainties unraveling – and in the quiet resilience of people trying to keep going, navigating discomfort while meeting daily demands.
It lives within global fear – of what’s coming, of what’s being lost – and within the leadership challenge of staying grounded, positive, and compassionate in the face of the unknown.
Life happens inside of paradoxes.
Most of us are doing the best we can with the tools we have. We try to show up, to contribute, to lead, to belong.
It’s a confusing time for humans, organizations, leaders.
And that’s okay.
In recent weeks, I have felt rewarded in my work by just inviting leaders to come to joint reflection sessions as they are – incomplete, unsure, in motion. To be confused together has felt like being one of the most radical and productive choices we can make right now. It opens up the stuckness. It allows us to experiment. To act. To move.
How might we meet people with grace, as we all fumble through uncharted territory? How can we hold space for non-binary realities, foggy futures, and the unknown? This isn’t just poetic musing – it’s a skill. One that demands effort, time, and practice.
Because the truth is, uncertainty is a twofold challenge.
First, we’re not omniscient – we’ll never know everything. We learn more after we make decisions, not before. That’s frustrating and deeply human.
Second, even if we did know everything, we still can’t predict the future. Life is probabilistic. Sometimes, even the best decision won’t go our way.
But here’s the challenge: we live in a system that rewards quick, processed, and often hollow solutions, strategies or answers. We swing between analysis paralysis on one side, and clickbait certainty on the other.
We’ve lost practice in sitting inside the in-between.
But that’s where the real work lies – in the space between clarity and chaos.
The work of not knowing.
The work of staying present.
The work of becoming.
And it is work. But it’s also where we find each other. It’s where we build resilient strategies, authentic leadership, and meaning that holds up beyond the moment.
We don’t need to know how to perfectly lead in 2025. What we need is permission to be in process. And that this might be enough.
So if you’re feeling uncertain: you’re not alone. You’re right on time.