I’ve spent the better part of my life chasing after certainty.  Probably, although I’m no longer certain, because of my early pre-teen years.

But, that might not be why.  Really.  It might be because of the way I’m wired.  Others seem to be wired far less tightly than I am and are able to just accept that life isn’t a series of boxes.  Not just boxes but those boxes that fit into each other starting with the huge box all the way down to the very tiny one.

I’ve wanted the boxes to make sense.  To speak English to me.  To help me be brighter and more acceptable to myself and those around me.

I’ve wanted to make myself a perfect box.  A universally recognizable and respected box.

And as my life unfolded, it got less perfect, less recognizable and sadly often too often less respected.

My peers left me as they made their way through life, following a collegiate path while I followed the scene of hash and pot.

Waking up a few years later sorely left behind in the streets of LA.  But, being wired for control and boxes I sought certainty and found it for many years within a place called Celebrity Center and later a place called Flag.  Two place where I worked believing that I was making the world a better place.

After a family tragedy, I left working as a staff member and just followed the philosophy of scientology but from a pay as you go member, but always looking for answers as to how do these boxes, my life, work?

Only to find that the tighter I looked for certainty the more it alluded me.  The boxes actually all collapsed, burying me inside.

I did my utmost to pull everything I could from the outside into my mind and just disappear.  So no one would notice.

Which is impossible.  Short of blowing up the boxes so that they are particles in the wind, a box is solid and someone will notice.

And try as I might morning always came.  Someone – a maid in a motel, a waitress in a restaurant, an old friend, or a roommate.  Someone always noticed me.  I just could not disappear.

But without certainty, who can live?  Without certainty, why bother?  Without certainty, it’s just too utterly painful and moreover it screams of the utter  absurdity of life.

I wanted certainty that I would, if I followed this or that rule, be happy.  I wanted certainty that my family would be safe.

Mostly I guess I wanted the certainty that I would not suffer.

Someone had forgotten to tell me that suffering was the First Noble Truth (if you are a buddhist).  That suffering was part of life (if you are simply aware and awake).  That suffering is the human condition.

And regardless, we are all human.

For a long time, I really suffered.  Bit by bit – because I am growing more and more comfortable with uncertainty, not only do I suffer less.  I find that most of my days are filled with the joy of being alive.