What if there is Benefit to Doubt?

(crossing Wittelsbacher bridge in Munich)

There is hardly any feeling that is as subtly present along my life explorations as doubt.

It's this often lingering vibration that I have become accepting of while grappling with the different degrees of its irritating nature.

Doubt can be like a barely-there companion sprinkling an edgy energy onto the current endeavors. Not necessarily loud, but often with gnawing persistence.

I've known it to come in intensities ranging from rather mild curiosity to blatant fear. The range reaches from subtle irritations when ordering a new dish to wondering if I have messed up my entire life.

It has the power to sap all the steam I've got up with in the morning, like air puffing from a balloon that seemed colorful and bouncy just a moment ago.

I wonder if the fear of doubt is what made the love-locks on bridges all over the world so popular, as we try to put a security measure on something we all deep down know we will never be able to control.

Doubt has made me question anything and everything. At times, why I am here at all.

It's challenged my choice of apartments in an unfamiliar city on a hunch. It's rattled my senses when moving myself to different countries without having too much of an idea of what I was getting myself into.

It also raises its uglier head when I go diametrically against my conditioning, exposing myself to the loneliness of standing opposed to the crowd I had been habitually running with.

The feeling usually comes with this physical sensation of a sort of pinch, or a bit of an awkward flavor right in the middle of a conversation with life. It's also been subtly present over longer times, accompanied by chronic issues like a recurring bladder infection or digestive issues that seem to be triggered by that cocktail of sensations.

It can feel like a slow drain of energy or the plug supplying my system with power being suddenly pulled, even just for a split second.

Joan Didion states in Blue Nights how “Memory fades, memory adjusts, memory conforms to what we think we remember.”

It made me think of how in hindsight I've doubted whatever I might have lived, felt or said as much as I feel doubt in the present.

It can be one of the hardest things to admit to doubting ourselves.

Doubt is fickle as it can feel as bold as it can feel like setting ourselves up for self-imposed failure when going beyond.

It can feel thrilling to challenge it, and devastating when realizing we should have listened more closely.

Yet, doubt can take us beyond our self-limiting beliefs, as it rattles the cages we keep ourselves confined to.

The question is: Are we courageous enough to listen? What can we gain if we do?

What if there is Benefit to Doubt?

What if there is an underappreciated power to doubt that brings more clarity?

As multidisciplinary artist Jenny Odell states in Saving Time: "In that brief pause, I experienced doubt, and doubt had increased my sensitivity to everything."

What if doubt is the lens that clears the window of our illusionary solidity?

The benefit of doubting allows us to entertain that our colleague might have had a tough morning with their kids when they are having a go at us as we beamingly said good morning. It can allow us to chalk the car splashing us with rainwater up to circumstances instead of ill will or neglect. It lets us brush off the encounter with a dog wildly barking at us as he might simply be scared of the huge, ruffling rain-cover making us appear larger than regular humans passing by.

What if seeing doubt as part of a greater equation can take the sting out?

What if Doubt can be a Portal to Growth?

What if it can be a lot more than a rattling feeling tugging at our confidence?

What if doubt is an edge we can work with? An edge that takes us beyond our automated behaviors? What if doubt is the threshold to go deeper, and be more aware?

The Zen teacher Haemin Sunim states in The Things You Can See Only When You Slow Down:

“The more you know,

The more you think you don’t,

The more you don’t know,

The more you think you do.”

What if doubt is a sense of intelligence to know how much we don't know? What if it's what ultimately brings us closer to our innate wisdom?

What if we count doubt in as part of a greater energy, instead of wanting to suppress it?

It's about realizing it has its place while not getting carried away by its current. It's about daring to face it, listen to it and give ourselves space to discern if it's a passing energy or a serious warning signal.

What If Doubt is Intelligence?

It's about realizing that we won't ever have the big picture. It might be about getting largely acquainted with doubting whatever we doubt. About being courageous enough to face our own disillusionment to align more closely with our authentic truth.

If we observe it a bit more closely, doubt tends to flare up and back down like a natural tide.

As hopeless as it can feel, the best thing we can do at times is roll out the welcome mat.

What if you approach your sense of doubt with the mindset of a scientist? What if you give it a moment for the message to clear, before racing to fear-driven conclusions?

If all the brides I've accompanied through making their wedding dresses had decided to act upon the doubt that inevitably showed up at some fitting, none of them would have ever got married.

The amount of people playing the lottery shows that we are capable of going beyond almost measurable doubt of very slim chances.

If I had listened to the doubt when wrapping up my life on one side of the ocean to move to the other end on rather limited research, I would never have embarked on countless adventures.

Yet, as the saying goes, "A ship in harbor is safe, but that is not what ships are built for." While the doubt was fiercely present, I've carried on anyway. Admittedly, not always in the most flattering ways.

Doubt has shown me that getting used to discomfort at times is the best way through, not wanting to escape it.

Within countless creative teams, we agreed that we were never able to shake the aspect of doubt when researching new ideas. Was something going to look as cool as we felt it would? Would it sell? Would it work in the chosen fabric?

Admittedly, at times listening to the doubt would have prevented us from leftover glitter fabric nobody on the commercial end got excited about the way the creative teams had felt about it. But there were also surprising innovations like making jelly bathing shoes wildly commercially successful while doubt was loudly piping up in each meeting

Counting it In

Even the greatest minds show us the human tendency to doubt. When Albert Einstein's math for General Relativity suggested the universe was expanding, he doubted his own result, adding a “fudge factor” to make the universe static. He later called this "fudge factor"—his doubt in his own genius—his "biggest blunder."

It reminds us that sometimes, the only thing blocking the breakthrough is the doubt that challenges our own, most innovative insights.

What if doubt is simply part of the ride, while not being anything innately solvable?

What if doubt is more like the temperature on the thermometer of a process running its course? What if it tells us where we need to question some more, possibly re-aligning, and what's worth expanding on?

As Richard Feynman inspires: "I have an imagination that makes me wonder. I have a doubt that makes me question. I have a curiosity that makes me open to new perspectives."

What if doubt is a vibration mixing in with the energy of whatever we are engaged with?

What if it often loses steam as soon as we acknowledge it fully?

I'm not suggesting to blatantly ignore when our instincts just know something is a bad idea. And doubt has kept me from embarking on the final ridge towards a mountain peak as much as it's kept me from going through a dark alley that didn't feel safe to me.

Doubt definitely has its place, and can save a life when insistently remaining present.

Yet, it's doubt that lets us consider what we felt certain about to take us beyond our limited beliefs. It's doubt that can save us from drawing premature conclusions when another person seems to be ill-willed. It's also what helps us clear the view in the insecure fields of the unknown to bravely face the gems that were hiding in plain sight.

The one thing I've found peace with is the doubt of being here altogether. It's saved my sanity and soul to bravely rest my case and realize that none of us would be here if we weren't meant to be, a truth that's part of a cosmic equation even the brightest minds can't fully grasp.

Have you asked yourself:

• Can you recall a time when doubt showed up, and you carried on anyway? What happened?

• What does doubt feel like in your body, and can you describe its “flavor”?

• If you saw doubt as a signal rather than a roadblock, what might it be telling you?

• How do you tend to respond to doubt: by avoiding it, or by making space for it?