Trading Certainty for a Deeper Meaning
Starve the need for certainty and feed the appetite for meaning. — Vincent van Gogh
A Provocation Against Tight Answers
Vincent van Gogh’s line urges a deliberate reversal of instinct: instead of constantly soothing ourselves with clear, final conclusions, we should loosen our grip and make room for significance. Certainty can feel like safety, but it can also become a cage—closing off questions before they have a chance to mature into insight. In that sense, “starving” the need for certainty is not self-denial for its own sake; it is an intentional clearing of space. From there, the second half of the sentence provides the direction of travel. If we reduce our dependence on fixed answers, we can “feed” a more sustaining drive—the search for meaning—whose nourishment often comes through ambiguity, exploration, and interpretation rather than proof.
Van Gogh’s Life in the Key of Uncertainty
This idea gains weight when set beside van Gogh’s own biography, where stability was scarce but meaning was fiercely pursued through work. His letters—especially those collected in *The Letters of Vincent van Gogh* (1880s)—show a mind repeatedly confronting doubt, poverty, rejection, and shifting plans, yet returning to painting as a way to make life intelligible. He could not secure certainty in career, health, or relationships; instead, he tried to build significance through creation. Seen this way, the quote reads less like abstract advice and more like a hard-won strategy. When certainty fails to arrive, meaning can still be made—through attention, craft, and the willingness to live inside unanswered questions long enough for them to transform.
Meaning Thrives Where Certainty Ends
Philosophically, van Gogh’s counsel aligns with traditions that treat uncertainty as the doorway to depth. Søren Kierkegaard’s *Fear and Trembling* (1843) explores how decisive meaning-making can require a leap beyond what can be conclusively known, while Friedrich Nietzsche later frames life-affirmation as creating value in a world without guaranteed foundations. In both cases, the hunger for final certainty is portrayed as understandable but ultimately limiting. Continuing that thread, meaning becomes less like a discovered fact and more like an authored stance—something shaped through commitments, interpretations, and chosen responsibilities. The quote pushes us to tolerate the discomfort of not knowing so that our lives can become more textured than mere correctness.
The Psychology of Releasing the Need to Know
Modern psychology offers a practical lens through the concept of “intolerance of uncertainty,” a tendency associated with anxiety and rumination. Research in cognitive-behavioral traditions often shows that when people demand perfect clarity before acting, they become trapped in reassurance-seeking and overthinking rather than learning. In that light, “starving” certainty can mean interrupting habits that constantly ask, “Am I safe? Am I right? Is this guaranteed?” Then the quote’s second instruction becomes actionable: feed meaning by engaging in values-based behavior even while uncertainty persists. Approaches like Acceptance and Commitment Therapy, popularized by Steven C. Hayes (e.g., *ACT*, 1999), emphasize choosing actions that serve values despite imperfect information—an echo of van Gogh’s invitation to live forward without total proof.
Art as a Model for Meaning-Making
Art illustrates the quote’s logic because it rarely offers certainty, yet it can deliver profound significance. A painting does not prove; it evokes. Van Gogh’s own works—such as *The Starry Night* (1889)—do not resolve the world into neat explanations, but they make experience feel interpretable, even intimate. The swirling sky is not a thesis; it is an encounter, and its power depends on openness rather than closure. As a result, art becomes a training ground for the very appetite van Gogh names. When we learn to sit with ambiguity in music, poetry, or visual form, we practice perceiving layers of meaning that cannot be reduced to a single correct answer.
A Practical Way to Live the Quote
In everyday life, “starving” certainty can begin with small refusals to over-control outcomes: sending the imperfect email, starting the project before feeling ready, or allowing a relationship to develop without forcing an early verdict about where it must go. These choices reduce the constant demand for guarantees, which often masquerades as prudence but functions as fear. From there, feeding meaning involves turning attention toward what is worth doing regardless of outcome—learning, caring, building, creating, serving. Over time, this shifts life from a courtroom where everything must be decided to a studio where something can be made. The quote ultimately suggests that a meaningful life is not the reward for certainty; it is what grows when we stop requiring certainty as the price of living.