The Unknown is a tricky place. It’s full of … well … unknowns. It’s vast and wide open.

The structured, tidy World of Certainty feels more comfortable, fixed. A linear path is set-out with clear instructions and all you have to do is follow them so that you get from Point A to Point B … with ease, of course; there are no surprises in the World of Certainty, right? It’s sterile, clean, and you know exactly where you’re going and how you’re getting there.

Oh, but when you open the door that leads you into The Unknown, where the path is not clearly set, it’s like stepping out into an expansive, dark galaxy. What’s out there? How will you know where you’re going? What will be revealed? And when?

The simple truth is, you have no way of knowing. Not really.

The only way to navigate this vastness is to listen to your inner truth, your North Star, your intuition, and trust it. Trust it with all that you have, believing that things will unfold the way they’re meant.

I’d like to live in the World of Certainty, but the only thing I’m certain of is that it doesn’t exist. Not really.

Being a solopreneur, creating a unique business from the ashes of divorce, I’d really like to know – with certainty – what my monthly income will be. I’d really like a guarantee that clients will be attracted to me, to this work. I’d really like to know that there are no unknowns … that this path I’ve chosen for my life will be clear.

But I don’t.

I chose the path of uncertainty when I decided to combine my passions, gifts, and talents into a career so that I could be of service to others. That’s all I want to do. It’s part of my purpose; if I was a millionaire, I’d still do this work. When I made that choice, I slammed opened the door and stepped right in the middle of the Great Unknown. (I mean, hello. It’s a little crazy for a single mom returning from living overseas, just splitting from her husband, to follow her dreams, right?)

I’m learning that the only way to navigate this place is to surrender. To be humble. To surrender to my intuition, my inner guidance, the Universe, to the Goddess, to God … whatever word you choose. It means taking the time to be silent and still so I can listen to my gut – without my mind chattering away telling me what I “should” be doing –  then follow it, even when it seems illogical, trusting that things will evolve and become clear as I continue surrendering to the unknown.

A few weeks ago, I was 90% certain the smart thing to do was to press “pause” on the Writing to Wholeness workshops I offer adults. The number of attendees was dwindling; it made logical sense to stop during the summer and restart in the fall. Yet, as I sat in stillness, it became clear that I should continue them over the summer … and actually create and add workshops for children. And so I am.

I have no idea what will happen along the way or if people will sign up, but I’m running them anyway.

A few days after I surrendered to that moment of clarity, I arrived at the venue for the Writing to Wholeness workshops. 15 minutes passed. I sat alone in the empty conference room of the coffee shop, about to leave. I wondered what the purpose was of me continuing with these workshops if no one came. Why would my intuition tell me to have them when I was sitting in the room by myself? 

And then I had the strong sense that it didn’t matter if anyone showed up or not to the workshop … because I did.

I showed up for myself. I showed up in devotion to being of service to others, whether they came or not.

In the past, sitting alone in a conference room, without any attendees, would’ve mortified me. I would’ve been deeply embarrassed. Ashamed. I would’ve felt like a complete failure and questioned if I needed to quit everything I’ve been building. There is no way I would’ve told you – or anyone else – about this.

But, instead, I felt proud for showing up. I felt proud that I listened to my intuition, even though I didn’t understand what was going on.

Within minutes, one person arrived. We held the workshop together. My heart was filled with gratitude and humility. I felt initiated.

I have no idea what will transpire and reveal itself in this expansive unknown, but I’m here. I’m showing up. And I’ve surrendered. And I trust that whatever comes is meant to come.

What are you willing to let go of so that you can enter this great space of the unknown, trusting that it will work out in the way that is best for you?