The Fog

Sitting with the Uncertainty of What's Next

I looked out toward the horizon this morning, but couldn’t even see the end of our driveway. The fog is thick... the world feels as though it’s closed in around me. I know there’s so much more beyond what my eyes can take in, and I’m certain the sun will eventually break through. But right now, my vision reaches only a few steps past our front door.

Unfortunately I'm not talking about the weather...

Life's second half often involves more than its fair share of fog. We invest (spend?) decades following the pre-determined pathway (e.g., school --> job --> promotions --> perhaps marriage and family --> financial targets --> retirement planning, etc.). Then one day we eventually find ourselves "free" of the expectations... and simultaneously lost in the fog of that same freedom. We no longer have to do anything in particular… but we also lose the clarity about what’s next. Is this what we've worked for our entire lives?

The "problem" is we got really good at getting things done, putting in the miles, checking key boxes, pushing ourselves harder and further than most. That skillset and drive, applied for decades, paid compounding dividends and opened doors. Then, as we open this latest door - the one we've been aiming for - we discover there isn't another pathway waiting behind it. Instead, the door opens to the big, beautiful, yet undefined, uncharted and unknown future. And that’s right when the fog rolls in...

What's the solution? I'm not sure. I struggle with it too. Remember - this isn't the place to be handed the answers but rather a place we can explore side by side. As I work through today's fog in my own life, here are a few thoughts that may be worth some reflection (for both of us)...

• Expect it. The fog is part of life, more-so in some seasons than others - but expected nonetheless. When we treat it as such, we stop wondering what's "wrong" and it opens the door to possibility rather than concern.

• Zoom out. Maintaining a broader perspective is critical. We're fortunate to be facing this internal struggle, the tip of Maslow's hierarchy, precisely because we're not trying to figure out where our next meal is coming from. This isn't a Polly-Anna moment - simply a reminder our current angst is in many ways a reminder we've been very fortunate in the bigger picture. Many will never have the opportunity to experience the fog.

• Take inventory. Time/Money/Health/Purpose trade-offs. As we discussed in this previous article, we usually sacrifice one or more of these to achieve the others (e.g., trade time and health for money). The fog-induced pause is a valuable time to assess any gaps we've created along the way that may affect options going forward.

• Avoid the crash. Accidents sky-rocket in a fog, both literally and figuratively. Highly driven, we're wired to keep moving forward at all costs. It's easy to get lost in the fog and lose our perspective, trading what we want most for what we want now. A big purchase, extreme adventure, or new job (or lover, house, etc.) provides the siren song of promise, only to dash us against the rocks in the process.

• Choose words wisely. It's easy while in the fog to drift into lazy language, following the current of the culture. We start telling ourselves (and others) we're "drifting aimlessly" - when the reality may be we're pausing to consider the who we are and where we're heading. We begin blaming age for physical limitations when the primary cause is more likely a change in our routines. Our lives are a reflection of the words we choose. Choose wisely.

• Pick up a pen. When the fog drifts in, it's easy to fill the time distracting ourselves with the lives of others (movies, sporting events, social media and endless news feeds). None of those are inherently negative in moderation, but they offer little to clear the fog. The pen, however, effectively cuts through the fog-induced darkness. Grab a journal or a notepad and sit undistracted... pen in hand. Don't pressure yourself to write. Just sit. The words will come - or they won't. Either way you'll find the fog begin to clear (why do you think I'm writing this article??). Leslie Lamport reminds us "If you're thinking without writing... you only think you're thinking." Bingo.

• Protect your margins. One last thought as you make your way through the fog: keep a close watch on your margins. It's easy while in the fog to make big plans, take on new projects, adopt new hobbies or step into various volunteer opportunities. Great - all of those can be wonderfully valuable. AND - once the fog lifts, we can then find ourselves stuck in a margin-less quicksand of our own making. Consider opportunities while maintaining a sense of margin.

"In life, the challenge is not so much to figure out how best to play the game; the challenge is to figure out what game you're playing" (Kwame Anthony Appiah)

As the game continues to change, I find myself struggling through the fog, with no choice but to wait - required to sit in the uncertainty, unsure of what's next. I'm grateful - and confused. Ready - but wondering. Perhaps the fog is where the real growth occurs, the place where I'm finally ready to tune into that still small voice.

Maybe the fog isn't the problem. Maybe it's the gateway to the journey I've been missing all along.