I'm thankful I've learned to embrace insecurity, not just to

Orson Bean, a man who lived through the shifting seasons of stage, film, and life, once said: “I'm thankful I've learned to embrace insecurity, not just to tolerate it. Life is more fun that way, and I'm thankful for that, too.” These words are both playful and profound, for they touch upon one of life’s deepest truths—that insecurity is not an enemy to be destroyed, but a companion to be welcomed. Where many flee from uncertainty, Bean saw it as the very spice that gave life its richness.

The origin of this reflection is rooted in Bean’s long career as an entertainer. He lived through failures as well as successes, through times when roles were abundant and times when they were scarce. Like all who walk the path of art, he knew the sting of doubt, the fear of rejection, the trembling that comes when one stands before an audience unsure of their response. Yet, instead of allowing this insecurity to chain him, he chose to embrace it, to see it not as a burden but as proof of being alive. His gratitude was not for perfection, but for the vibrancy that came from stepping into the unknown.

History gives us many examples of this same wisdom. Think of Socrates, who declared that true wisdom was to know that one does not know. By embracing his insecurity in knowledge, he became one of the greatest teachers the world has ever known. Or consider Amelia Earhart, who flew into skies that had never been conquered by a woman before. She did not wait until all fear was gone; she embraced her insecurity, and in doing so, turned it into courage. These figures remind us, as Orson Bean did, that insecurity can be the doorway to discovery.

At the heart of Bean’s words lies a liberating truth: to merely tolerate insecurity is to survive it, but to embrace it is to live joyfully within it. Life becomes more playful, more adventurous, when one stops resisting uncertainty and instead dances with it. The very things that make us nervous—the unplanned, the unknown, the untested—are the places where growth, surprise, and delight dwell. Gratitude for insecurity transforms it from a tormentor into a teacher.

To the youth, this teaching is a gift: do not imagine that you must have every answer, every path laid out, or every doubt silenced before you begin. Step forward even when your heart quivers. Speak, create, attempt, even in the presence of fear. Insecurity will always walk with you, but if you embrace it, it will no longer hinder you—it will propel you into growth.

To the elders, this wisdom is a reminder that life’s uncertainties do not vanish with age. In every season, there are doubts and fears. But the joy of life is not in banishing them, but in welcoming them as signs that we are still alive, still striving, still open to the unknown. To be thankful for insecurity is to recognize that without it, life would grow dull, predictable, and joyless.

The eternal wisdom here is this: insecurity is not weakness, but proof of possibility. Gratitude transforms insecurity into freedom, and freedom transforms life into play. Orson Bean’s words remind us that true joy is not in controlling every outcome, but in stepping boldly into the mystery with a heart full of thankfulness.

Thus, let this teaching be passed down: do not merely tolerate your doubts—embrace them. Be thankful for insecurity, for it is the fire that sharpens courage, the wind that fills the sails of discovery, and the music that makes life a dance worth joining.