The Power of "I Don't Know"

Lately, I’ve been stuck on a couple of decisions. The kind that churn quietly in the background while you do important things like reorganise the pantry, alphabetise your books, and deep-clean the grout. Not life-or-death decisions, but the kind that feel like they should be simple… and yet aren’t.

I’ve found myself circling the same internal questions like a plane stuck in a holding pattern: What’s the right move? Which option makes sense? Why can’t I just decide already?

And then I remembered—because I’ve been here before—that sometimes the answer (for now) is I don’t know.

Not a panicked, throw-my-hands-in-the-air “I don’t know.” But a steady, honest, slightly defiant “I don’t know… yet.”

We’re not great at not knowing. It feels indecisive. Unproductive. Uncertain. In a world that prizes clarity, momentum, and having a plan, saying I don’t know can feel like a personal failing. But I’m learning—again—that it’s something else entirely: a legitimate answer. A necessary pause. A space to breathe.

Some decisions need ripening. They take time, and pushing too hard doesn’t make them clearer—it just makes you anxious and strangely motivated to buy unnecessary stationery.

So here I am. In the not-knowing. Trusting that clarity will come. And until then, resisting the urge to fill the space with frantic doing, Googling, or impulse decisions disguised as breakthroughs.

Maybe you’re in a similar spot. If so, I offer this: I don’t know isn’t weakness. It’s wisdom wrapped in patience. It’s the prelude to knowing. And sometimes, it’s exactly where you need to be.