Most of us don’t like entering a process without the foreknowledge of how it will play out. Predicting what we think is going to happen is about grasping for security and the sense that we have some control over what’s coming. It’s our way of forecasting the future so that we can mentally prepare for how to cope with what’s ahead and not feel like we’ve been caught off guard.
In many instances in life, this strategy serves us well. Few people would undergo surgery without asking about what to expect. We want to know how long it will take, get a general idea of what will be done (spare me the details, please!), and what the stages of recovery will look like. The more we know beforehand, the more reassured we feel that it’s okay to take the plunge.
But there are some areas in life in which our desire for predictability can stifle a natural process from unfolding the way it should. In such situations, it is precisely the decision to be okay with not knowing that enables us to take a step forward. We are occasionally called upon to drop our tendency to speculate and walk into a process where the outcome cannot be known in advance.
As we’ll see, personal growth is one such area.
Choreographing growth
People routinely enter therapy wanting to know what their lives will look like at the end. This is a fair and valid question that speaks to the uncertainty and nervousness often present in the initial stages of counseling.
However, there can sometimes be a hidden agenda embedded in this line of inquiry, a request for me to choreograph the steps of therapy before they take place. People may want a detailed description of “and then what will happen?” as if I could predict the trajectory of their personal growth journey before they’ve even begun.
I’ve always found this question challenging, mainly because I can’t answer it. The process of authentically delving into your own life must, by definition, not be predetermined if it is to be effective. Taking an honest look at ourselves, our relationships, and our challenges is a journey of exploration and self-discovery that will invariably contain twists and turns that I can’t know about at the outset.
Following the trail
When I invite a client to slow down and take a deeper look at something in their lives, I have no way of foretelling what will happen next. How will they respond? What feelings will come up? In which direction will things go? What associations will they make?
My hope is that the other person doesn’t know the answers either, at least when they first walk in. Because the path of personal development is a dynamic, moment-to-moment expedition of discovery that must remain untethered from any preordained path or outcome. It is about allowing an organic process to gradually materialize by taking an honest look at things without knowing the result. Each step along the trail of growth sets the stage for the next one to unfold. Each gives birth to a new landscape that emerges in real time, creating its own path forward and providing direction for where to turn next. It is an unscripted journey that gives shape to itself.
Engaging with the unknown can be an unsettling prospect. It is hard for us to venture outside the walls of what feels safe and familiar. Fortunately, we have an example of someone who chose to embrace this exact challenge, one that ultimately led him to the Promised Land.
Avraham Avinu’s Temimut
Avraham Avinu did not know where he was headed when he and his family left Charan to travel to the land that Hashem had promised him. He had been told to “just go,” with no further instructions. Even with Avraham’s clear, visceral knowledge that Hashem was always with him, the decision to leave home without any sense of destination is highly foreign to our modern sensitivities. Would any of us even consider setting out on a trip without knowing where we’d be sleeping that night? Do we ever even leave the neighborhood without consulting Waze first? Avraham’s acquiescence to Hashem’s directive is extremely difficult for us to grasp. So what enabled him to do it?
Avraham excelled in the characteristic of Temimut, perhaps best translated as “completeness.” Temimut is a mentality of knowing that I have everything I need before me in order to act. It is the opposite of looking too far ahead, grasping for guarantees, or needing to know how things will turn out. Temimut is a middah associated with purity and simplicity, an uncomplicated sense of faith that applying myself fully to the situation at hand will ultimately lead me to where I need to go.
One step at a time
It is striking that a complex thinker like Avraham Avinu, who arrived at an awareness of Hashem after 40 years of penetrating analysis, would excel at this particular character trait. In truth, temimut has little to do with intellectual capacity. Instead, it is about holding onto the straightforward fact that acting in this moment is all I am being asked to do.
Avraham was content with not knowing where he was headed because he recognized that his job was just to take a single step. And then to take the next one. And then the next. He did not know what each would bring, but he felt assured in knowing it would all work out the way it was supposed to.
The Ramban writes that Avraham’s first stop was not the Land of Israel. He sojourned into several other lands before arriving at his destination. Avraham’s uniqueness was that he just kept moving forward, one step at a time, dealing with each challenge as it presented itself. He understood that Hashem had called upon him to drop his preconceptions, step out of the familiar, and journey into the unknown with trust and confidence.
It is interesting to note that the verse in which Avraham is referred to as tamim is also the first time in the Torah in which we are introduced to Hashem’s name of sha-dai (Bereishit 17:1). The literal meaning of this name is “that I am enough,” referring to the idea that nothing more than Hashem’s sustenance is needed to enable life. The ability to see Hashem as enough, without the need to look elsewhere, is an exact parallel to the temimut displayed by Avraham, in which he knew that he had everything he needed before him to move forward with peace and certainty.
A world to explore
Avraham’s capacity to embrace the unknown may feel alien to us, but let’s remember that the world was still a place of discovery not that long ago. Within the past 500 years, sailors were still setting out to explore new lands with no idea of what they would find. In America just 150 years ago, families were still traveling west in search of new and uncharted possibilities. And in the modern state of Israel going back less than 75 years, the early pioneers were still arriving to develop and settle the land without knowing what obstacles lay in their wait.
In our times, we have crafted a world of the predictable, where it feels as though very little has been left to our discovery, including our own selves. While our insistence on researching every detail before making a move can sometimes be warranted, it has also carried over to our approach to personal growth. We expect to know exactly what we’re buying into and what the result will be before we set out on a voyage of self-discovery. For too many of us, if we don’t know what the end will be, we’re scared to even begin.
But there is a time to put aside our need to know and decide to start the work. This includes sometimes narrowing our focus to just the next step. It means choosing to put one foot in front of the other on the trail of personal exploration without any promise of where it will lead. Doing so certainly feels risky, but it may be the only way to arrive at the destination Hashem has in store for us.
At times, our inner world can feel a bit like uncharted territory, a domain we aren’t sure how to navigate. But if we trust the process the way Avraham did, casting aside our scripts and opening ourselves to wherever the journey takes us, our growth will be deeper and more profound than we could ever have predicted.