Is uncertainty incompatible with the doctrine of emptiness? For purposes of this question I define “uncertainty” as a willingness to entertain doubt or acknowledge incomplete knowledge with regards to the truth of the matter about what one knows of a particular question of subject. And I define “the truth of the matter” as an objective fact about some aspect of reality which is independent of observer or context and is not contingent in any way.

For a long while I have regarded myself as unusually capable or comfortable with uncertainty. Having a general willingness to see the gray in every question and to acknowledge my own incomplete knowledge. To see and entertain the viewpoints of others and to grant that my own viewpoint is not certain. A general comfortability with complexity that is above average. And this is something I prided myself in thinking of as beneficial.

However, I recently realized that a lot of what I define as “uncertainty” presupposes an objective fact of the matter that is not contingent. And that it handcuffs me at times in that I can be of two, three, or more minds about something and unsure of the proper course to take.

Moreover, it occurred to me that this is not compatible with the doctrine of emptiness which I understand quite clearly as saying that for every conception that I have... it is not undergirded by a genuine non-contingent fact of the matter.

So with that...

Is uncertainty as defined above incompatible with emptiness?

If so, how? If so, what repercussions can be seen as occurring with this misunderstanding? What is an appropriate definition of uncertainty or one that is compatible with emptiness or how things really exist?

If not, why not? Where is the error in my thinking?

A question that might be related, but different is Is lack of doubt a form of self-cherishing?
When fish move through water, however they move, there is no end to the water. When birds fly through the sky, however they fly, there is no end to the sky. Fish and birds have never once, since antiquity, run out of water or run out of sky. When their need for water or sky is great, its availability is great, and when their need for water or sky is small, its availability is small. Acting this way, fish and birds realize their limitations yet at every moment somersault freely through their realm; but if a bird leaves the sky it will die at once, and if a fish leaves the water it will die at once. So we understand that water is life and that sky is life. Birds are life, and fish are life. It may also be that life is birds and that life is fish.   
  
  The experience of our own existence is also like this. If a bird or a fish decided to move through the water or the sky only after getting to the end of water or utterly penetrating the sky, it would never find its way or its place in the water or sky. When we have found our own place in our own realm, we have arrived at potential. When we maintain our own true way, our action is potential itself.  
  
  Our own way and our own place are neither great nor small; they are neither subjective nor objective; they have not existed in the past nor do they arise in the present; they are just as they are. In maintaining our own true way and abiding in our own place, to consider one thing is to explore only that one thing, and to perform one action is to fully participate in that one action. In this state, we exist in our own space and practice our own way, and awareness of ourselves is not conspicuous. The reason this is so is that our own thoughts and actions and the realization of potential appear together and are experienced together.   
  
  Do not assume that we can be conscious of potential, or that potential can be recognized by the intellect. The experience of potential is not necessarily a cognitive realization.  
  
  Realization is the state of ambiguity itself [kahitsu -- how can it be convulsively decided that]
  
  Dogen