If we knew everything about the future with certainty, our lives would be drained of emotion. No surprise and pleasure, no joy or thrill— we knew it all along. The first kiss, the first proposal, the birth of a healthy child would be about as exciting as last year’s weather report. If our world ever turned certain, life would be mind-numbingly dull.
I fight against ambiguity just as much as the next fellow. It’s not an intense desire to know what the future holds, but more of a low-grade, chronic worry that it holds something I won’t like. It’s an automatic process in the brain that vanishes upon inspection and a simple self-assurance that, no, I can’t control the future, and yes, I will be okay when the next curve ball is thrown. It also helps to imagine the utter boredom that would take over our lives if we always knew the next pitch life was about to throw at us.