I have never possessed true certainty, but rather have been mistrustful of established truths. In order to move forward with life, I had to feign certainty. But recently all of that has been brought into question when I realized that in pursuit of self-betterment, I started to treat all my actions as a means to this end. In that process I was lying to myself about my true motivations. 

I cannot talk about certainty without being deceptive: I would have to seem certain about the ideas that I am presenting. Instead I will share some anecdotes that somewhat relate to this theme of certainty. I believe that they happened, but cannot be certain of their truth. 

In middle school I wrote an essay about the Roman author Pliny the Elder who said that “The only certainty is that nothing is certain.” I found the paradox amusing, but agreed with his sentiment. Fittingly, he died in the eruption of Mt. Vesuvius: something nobody predicted. 

My friend Zhang said “all truths can be shown through the scientific method and everything shown by the scientific method is true.” I thought his claim was ridiculous. His ideas did not come from a faith in science, but rather from a certainty in scientific truth. There was something commendable about how certain he was, but if I brought it up today he would strongly disagree with what he previously said. That gets to my core issue with certainty: how can one be certain about anything if one’s beliefs constantly change. 

Along the same lines, I have never been certain that I was in love, but people have told me that they have been. Almost all of them are not in love anymore: maybe their certainty was misguided? Or perhaps, I was just misunderstanding what love is. 

In Yann Martel’s novel The Life of Pi, the main character Pi Patel says: “It is not atheists who get stuck in my caw, but agnostics. Doubt is useful for a while … But we must move on. To choose doubt as a philosophy of life is akin to choosing immobility as means of transportation.” I think he minimizes the difficulty of choosing a means of transportation, but he does raise a good point. But my question for Pi would be: what is worthy of being certain in? 

My friend Jonathan—who I lived with for several months—always talked about his next meal. Every night he would say things like “toast” or “eggs” and the next morning he would end up eating that food. I envied how his certainty could speak what he wanted into existence. 

My friend Maria firmly believed in the principles of manifestation. She held that as long as she believed in something and put it on her vision board, it would come true. Her main goal was to be an international popstar as recognized as Beyonce. That has not happened yet—perhaps she may need to take a lesson in manifestation from Jonathan. ◼