We humans find comfort in assuming things will go as planned, but certainty is always an illusion. This saying, popularized by Benjamin Franklin, reminds us that life is inherently unpredictable.
“Our new Constitution is now established, and has an appearance that promises permanency; but in this world nothing can be said to be certain, except death and taxes.”
— Franklin, in a letter to Jean-Baptiste Le Roy, 1789
During the last decade, many things we felt certain about changed overnight. In my life, some of these unexpected events affected everyone, and some just impacted me and mine.
- My former boss was never going to allow the team to work from home, until Covid made working from home standard for several years. I thought the productivity improvements that companies experienced would make the work-from-home trend a permanent condition, but not!
- I was feeling so proud of myself for having great health in my senior years when I tripped over the puppy’s leash and broke my foot. I have had two non-injury falls since. Pride (and certainty) goeth before the fall!
- I was on the brink of addressing relationship issues with my significant other when he was diagnosed with stage 4 cancer, and the focus shifted to his medical treatment. In under a year, his diagnosis morphed to the ultimate certainty when death claimed him last fall.
- Living in Washington State where I’d found my perfect home for retirement years was working wonderfully when my daughter invited me to move cross-country to live in her in-law unit. So much for my certainty of a “forever” home in the Pacific Northwest. I had to ask myself, “What’s important, the house and furnishings or co-creating a multi-generational household?”
None of these examples were my first go-round pivoting from plans I’d made. Early experiences honed my ability to change course when needed, most notably when I left home while still in my teens. Having landed (with great support) on my feet taught me that unplanned change can result in improved conditions, even when it is scary or requires me to give things up along the way.
In my ITP practice, affirmations provide me with a North Star to navigate the ever-changing environment and situation. ITP practitioners ground ourselves with these intensely personal statements of desired states of being. We deeply plumb what is crying out for change within us, whether it be something we want to experience differently in our bodies, our mental or emotional states, or in our experience of inner divinity. When we focus our attention on what needs to change within us, we shift from a victim mindset where we complain about things being so “uncertain” to one where we own our response to inevitable unpredicted events or circumstances.
Rehearsing affirmations re-wires our mental pathways. Thoughts shape our perceptions and actions. For example, I have an affirmation about my personal finances: “I live in abundance and am financially secure. Free of debt, I owe nobody and nobody owes me.” When I first wrote this affirmation, it described a future I had not yet reached.
Each morning, I repeat my affirmations on my walk, no matter where I am or how my routine has been interrupted. When I say, “I live in abundance,” I look for evidence of it around me—whether in my former Washington neighborhood or the more modest urban one where I live now. Every home, tree, plant, and animal reflects beauty and abundance.
When I say, “I am financially secure,” I remind myself that my Social Security income and modest pension meet my current needs, while my savings and paid-off home provide protection against future uncertainty.
So the first two parts of my affirmation were true from the beginning. The last part—owing no one and being owed by no one—was not, at least not yet.
This is where focused surrender comes in. Moving across the country was expensive, and instead of reducing my revolving debt, I had to add to it. So yes, I still owe money. Yet that unexpected invitation, which disrupted my plans and led to the move, also brought the prospect of improved financial stability. Living in a shared household makes my budget more manageable, and renting out my Washington home now gives me additional cash flow. That gives me a clear path to paying off my credit cards. My affirmation was specific enough to help me picture the financial life I wanted, yet open enough to allow that outcome to unfold in an unexpected way. Spirit filled in the blanks.
Undeniably, none of us knows what the future holds. Each of us, at one point or another, has experienced the upending of plans. With our affirmations serving as an internal compass, we can navigate even choppy seas, trading the longing for certainty into an attitude of adventure.