We know not of the future and cannot plan for it much.

The words of Joshua Chamberlain, “We know not of the future and cannot plan for it much,” are both humble and profound. They rise from the heart of a man who had gazed upon the terrible uncertainty of life and battle. Chamberlain, a scholar turned soldier, spoke these words after enduring the bloody turmoil of the American Civil War—a war where every dawn was uncertain and every breath a fragile miracle. In them, he teaches that the future is not ours to command. We are but travelers upon the road of time, walking through mists that hide the next bend from our eyes.

This saying, though born of a specific age, carries the timeless breath of wisdom. It calls us to recognize our human limitation—that no mind, however sharp, can foresee the pattern of destiny. Men build their plans upon the sands of hope, yet the tides of the world wash them away as easily as a child’s footprint upon the shore. The ancients too knew this truth. They read it in the stars, they saw it in the fickleness of fortune, and they wrote it upon the temples of wisdom: “Man proposes, the gods dispose.” Chamberlain, though living centuries later, echoed that same eternal melody.

In his life, Chamberlain faced the full measure of the unknown. At Gettysburg, he stood upon Little Round Top, with but a handful of weary men against a tide of advancing foes. The future then was veiled in smoke and thunder. Could they hold the line? Could they survive the storm? None could tell. Yet in that moment, Chamberlain did not despair at his lack of foresight; instead, he acted with courage born of faith. He fixed his eyes not upon what might be, but upon what must be done now. And in doing so, he changed the course of history. His charge, desperate and fierce, became one of the defining acts of the war.

This tale reveals the deeper current flowing beneath his words. “We know not of the future,” he says, not to weaken our spirits, but to remind us that our power lies in the present. The future is not a scroll already written—it is the ink upon our fingers, the stroke we make today. When we cling too tightly to plans, when we demand certainty of life, we bind ourselves to illusion. But when we accept uncertainty, when we act with virtue and courage despite the mist, we walk with true wisdom. The future unfolds as it will—but we shape its soul through what we do in the fleeting light of now.

Throughout history, this lesson has echoed in the hearts of many. Think of Marcus Aurelius, the philosopher-king of Rome, who too faced the chaos of war and the plague of empire. In his meditations, he wrote that one should not worry about tomorrow’s storms, but instead “confine oneself to the present duty.” Like Chamberlain, he knew that to live rightly in each moment is to trust in the larger order of the universe. Thus, the brave, the wise, and the steadfast across the ages have all agreed: though we know not the future, we can meet it well prepared—if our hearts are disciplined and our souls are awake.

The emotional truth of Chamberlain’s words lies in their serenity. They free us from the terror of the unknown. They whisper, “Do not fear what you cannot foresee.” For life is not a puzzle to be solved before it begins; it is a song to be sung, with its melody revealed only as we breathe each note. To demand to know the end is to silence the music. Instead, let us listen, and let each moment find its rhythm through our action, our compassion, and our courage.

Therefore, the lesson is clear: make peace with the unknown. Do not wait for the fog to lift before you step forward. The path will appear beneath your feet only when you begin to walk. Plan, yes—but hold those plans loosely, like a bird that must fly when the time is right. Trust not in certainty, but in character, for it alone is the compass that never fails.

In your own life, take these words to heart. When tomorrow feels uncertain, act with faith today. When the future is dark, light one small flame of effort, of kindness, of resolve. Do your duty with the fullness of heart that Chamberlain carried into battle, and leave the rest to the unseen hand of Providence. For though we know not of the future and cannot plan for it much, the power of the present moment is infinite—and it is ours.