Maggie Jackson’s latest book, I heart experts, and a candle
Dear Friends,
I’m picking back up after a short hiatus. You know how sometimes worlds—the one outside, the one in our heads—conspire to send our thoughts into anxious loops and shut down our words? How sometimes, one or both of these worlds becomes too much and life becomes about putting one foot in front of the other—chop wood, carry water, repeat? That’s been me these past couple of weeks. I imagine if you’re human (not that I think a dog or cat is reading this), maybe you’ve been there. Maybe you are there. If you are: Hi! I’m waving at you!
I’d like to believe that what matters more than shutting down is the fact that we return to using our words. I’m still reeling, but I’m back now, sharing 3 Fluxlandish things with you:
I’ve been reading Maggie Jackson’s latest, Uncertain: The Wisdom and Wonder of Being Unsure (Prometheus), a book published in 2023 that speaks to 2025 even more. Jackson’s epigraph, via Wittgenstein, is in sync with themes I’ve been thinking and writing through of late:
“‘I know’ seems to describe a state of affairs which guarantees it as a fact. One always forgets the expression, ‘I thought I knew.’”
If only our leaders might take a minute and not-know for half a second, instead of unthinkingly, unfeelingly, and inhumanely using “act fast and break things” and “flood the zone” as operating principles. In direct contrast, sage words from author Maggie Jackson: “It’s dinner party dynamite just to admit that on a matter of social import, your opinion isn’t set in stone. How could we find the clarity and vision so urgently needed by not-knowing?” And here is the quote where she uses my favorite word:
“Far from automatically miring us in cognitive paralysis, uncertainty plays an essential role in higher-order thinking, propelling people in challenging times toward good judgment, flexibility, mutual understanding, and heights of creativity. It is the portal to finding your enemy’s humanity, the overlooked lynchpin of superior teamwork, and the mindset most needed in times of flux.”
In this moment of inflated surety and deafening masculine bravado, Uncertain asks how to skillfully confront the unknown. How do we seek not-knowing in the service of wisdom, wonder and discovery? It’s a good question to ponder, no?
The other week I led a writing workshop for Northwestern University faculty, organized by the Director of Faculty in the Provost’s Office. The topic? Strategies, mindsets, and tools for maintaining momentum on writing projects, long term. Happy to share the handout with anyone who likes, leaves a comment, or restacks this post, with apologies for the shameless Substack hustle. Point is, crucial NIH-funded research funding, shockingly, had been paused the day before, emergency meetings had been scheduled on campus, and we anticipated cancellations, this being a moment for triage. I “fluxed” my expectations (did I just make up a verb?) and mentally prepared for an intimate group. But the room was packed. I am redoubled in my commitment to support scholars and other experts whose deep expertise is needed both short-term (op-eds!) and long-term (books, grants, keynotes). If you happen to be a Northwestern faculty member reading this, I’m now set up as an official vendor so you can hire me as your writing coach using professional development funds.
A friend recently gave me this candle (which I’ve posted somewhere before):
I aspire to this kind of peace. I’m not there. How are you mentally, emotionally, and/or spiritually adapting to the rapid-fire environment in which we’re living? If you’re working on any good flux-worthy skills and are gaining traction, I’d love to hear about your strategies, so that I might add them to my arsenal.
With love from fluxlandia,
Deborah
Today in lake, with REAL cairns. Also, snow.
Teddy loving his Lady Bug brings me joy.