I Am Certain of Nothing

I have opinions on many subjects, but as I grow older, I find myself drawn more and more to studies of religious practice, particularly Christianity. When I was younger, I thought I knew a lot. Now, I know that I know very little—perhaps nothing at all.

I strive to be a good person: a human being, a father, a husband, a son, a brother, a colleague, a citizen, an employee, an employer. I enjoy attending church and engaging in discussions about life—not to convince anyone, but to learn, to be exposed to different perspectives, and to discover how I might become a better version of myself.

Even after exploring many philosophies and world religions, I carry doubts. I do not possess the unshakable faith that many around me have, yet I still believe that the Christian community, in my experience, contains some of the wisest people—those who genuinely seek to become the best versions of themselves. That is not to say other paths lack value; I have absorbed much beauty and wisdom from many cultures and ways of life.

My point here is a disclaimer: my thoughts are fluid. Being an author who shares openly makes it easy for others to judge me. I admit that one day I may lean toward philosophy, another toward Christianity, another toward atheism. It depends on where my mind drifts that day.

I am not afraid of being misunderstood, of being judged, or even of contradicting myself at times—but I do care about leading anyone away from the truth.

The only truth I am certain of is that I do not know much. Jordan Peterson once said that writing is the highest form of thought. When I write or speak my thoughts aloud, they take shape and structure, allowing me to see and understand the subject more clearly. Writing helps me work through ideas more effectively than mere reflection ever could.

I share—or overshare, as some might say—because I know I am not alone in grappling with beliefs and direction in a world that pulls us in every direction.

I recognize that not everyone has the desire to search deeply for purpose, for understanding. Yet for me, it is invaluable to engage with those who embrace being misunderstood, those who have shared their pathless journeys openly. This is why I love reading philosophy, listening to those who seek wisdom, and studying ancient scriptures whose truths echo across space and time. This is why I am captivated by those who have walked enlightened paths—figures like Jesus, Buddha, Krishna—and even those who, at a less divine level, lived with unwavering conviction, like Gandhi, Martin Luther King Jr., and Mother Teresa.

I am in love with this journey we call life. While I do not mind being misunderstood, I do not want to lead anyone astray or judge anyone’s journey. I celebrate those who have unshakable faith in their beliefs and hold deep respect for them. Perhaps one day I will feel the same. Until then, I am content to journey as a child—curious, learning, and aware of how little I truly know.