starting with uncertainty
For about two years now I have had this idea for a big project I want to do. A big, time consuming project that brings up all sorts of fears of failure and imposter syndrome.
I have wanted to create an oracle deck where the imagery for the deck are wall hangings representing a specific word and I write a little essay to accompany each one with my thoughts on that word and how it relates to my creative practice. And then maybe this wall hanging oracle deck can be used by others to help prompt or guide their own creative practice.
After thinking about and discussing this project for two years, I’ve finally decided to start it.
To just do it.
And it feels so scary to start this thing that I have built up in my head for so long! But here I am, starting it.
How this project will work:
I am going to choose a word every week for the rest of this year
I will then make a small piece of fiber art that represents my interpretation of that word
I will write an essay to go along with that word and art piece and publish it here, on the Gathered Threads blog. the essay may also include some prompts or questions to guide your own creative practice
At the end of the year, I will have somewhere between 40-50 wall hangings which I will photograph and turn into an Oracle Deck and compile the essays into a guidebook to go along with that deck
I’ll throw a big party to show off all of the work and (hopefully) have that Oracle Deck and Guidebook as a thing I can sell and share with the world
As a member of Gathered Threads, you are directly supporting this project. Thank you for being here.
What better word to start with for this project than “Uncertainty”.
Uncertainty
My stomach clenches. Is it excitement? Anxiety? Or some tangled mix of both? The next step looms ahead, unknown and uncharted. Mist swirls around its edges, clouding my vision, making it impossible to predict what comes next. What if it’s the wrong choice? What if I fail? What if I regret it?
But what happens if I don’t take that step? If I stay where things are familiar, where I can at least pretend I know what’s coming? Is certainty really any safer, or is it just an illusion I cling to for comfort? After all, nothing is truly predictable. Change happens. The ground shifts beneath me whether I choose to move or not.
Even the things we call certain—gravity, time, the rules of numbers and equations—are, at their core, filled with unknowns. New discoveries crack open what we thought was solid truth, reminding us how much we don’t know, how much we can’t know. Maybe certainty itself is just a trick we play on ourselves, a way to feel steady in a world that is anything but.
So if uncertainty is inevitable, why not move forward anyway? Yes, I might fail. Yes, I might make mistakes. But what if this next step leads to something breathtaking, something beyond anything I ever imagined? What if uncertainty isn’t a wall but a doorway?
Maybe the goal isn’t to wait until things feel certain, safe, and predictable. Maybe the only way forward is to embrace uncertainty, to let it be the foundation instead of the obstacle. To step into the portal, not knowing what’s on the other side, but trusting that I’ll find my way as I go.
I want to see what happens.
Creative prompts:
What’s the worst thing that could happen? What’s the best thing that could happen?
What does uncertainty look like to you?
What is something you would do if there was a 100% certainty it would work out?
Set a timer for 5 minutes and either write or draw your answers to these questions. See where it takes you.
