She stopped on the trail, unsure of where she was on the mountain she started climbing that morning when the early sunrise sky was bright and clear. By mid-afternoon, fog had rolled in, and the path ahead seemed as though a great wilderness spirit had swallowed it whole. The next step might be solid underfoot, or it could as easily turn out to be a long, quick swan dive into an abyss.
Years of avid trekking in the back country had taught her not to panic at moments like this.
Her flatlander’s mind craved long, clear vistas ahead, and wide, straight roads to take her where she wanted to go with no surprises. But, she also possessed the wanderer’s nose for getting lost, because the most interesting things always seem to happen in “I don’t know” land.
A granite boulder crowding the trail had a perfect butt-sized dent in it that invited her to sit. So, Cloe sat, with droplets of mist sparkling on her nose and cheeks.
She remembered an acronym her Marine uncle taught her, long before she knew what to do with it: The OODA Loop.
“Observe. Orient. Decide. Act,” he would say, his mustache bristling earnestly with each word.
“That will get you out of most jams alive, or … at least you’ll feel calmer while you’re dying.”
I’m observing. Feet on the trail. Tree over there. Clouds all around. Nothing much to see.
Orient.
Reaching into her day pack, Cloe’s fingers found the compass her uncle had given her all those years ago.
North’s that way. I’m headed west-northwest. Good. That was the plan.
Cloe had a simple formula for “knowing what to do, when you don’t know what to do” – another phrase her uncle was fond of repeating.
Since she seems to have the situation in hand and isn’t in much peril, we can leave her there and turn the rest of this into pithy instructions for navigating life in the year ahead.
I find that the longer I live, the less interested I am in complicated processes for self-actualization.
I notice myself appreciating sturdy, simple principles that serve as instruments for finding my way when the maps others have drawn aren’t helping in the current situation.
There’s danger in trying to reduce everything to “three easy steps to peace of mind,” or some other glorious outcome, of course – but what I’m talking about are guiding principles, not simplistic instructions. These instruments have the power to help us recover our bearings and know how to take the next step forward when we’ve been plunged into uncertainty.
Here are two I use frequently. The first is a question I must credit to one of my sisters, who shared it with me a couple of years ago. The second, I feel pretty sure I made up all by myself.
- Whenever you find yourself feeling lost, uncertain, or anxious about how to proceed, ask this question: “What would someone who really loves themself do right now?”
- Do something today that your tomorrow self will thank you for.
I know, I know. I told you they were simple.
Let’s take them one at a time.
“What would someone who really loves themself do right now?”
Imagine yourself in a difficult situation. Maybe it’s one of life’s common distresses in which your old habits and conditioning are flashing pulses of cortisol and adrenaline through your body.
But what really just happened?
Did someone cross a boundary or disrespect you, and everything about your past would say that you’ll roll over and take it?
“What would someone who really loves themself do right now?”
Asking this question is an act of courage and self-care all by itself. It means that you’re interrupting old patterns of behavior that have caused you so much pain and shame over the years. It’s a way to observe and orient, then decide and act. It serves as a compass that cuts through the fog and tells a truth you can use immediately.
But there are times when the distance between knowing the truth and acting on it is a bridge too far. Ask the question anyway. The act of pausing in the middle of a previously foregone conclusion is its own small victory. You are widening the gap between stimulus and response, which Viktor Frankl tells us is where our growth and freedom live.
The next navigation instrument:
Do something today that your tomorrow self will thank you for.
This one has been especially useful for me during times of exhaustion or depression.
If you’ve ever struggled with either, you’ll know how those two liars love to convince us that everything is pointless, no effort will matter, and it’s not worth trying. It’s the voice of the oppressor that is often loudest at 3 am when you wake up needing to pee but discover that you bought a ticket to an existential crisis by opening your eyes.
Do something today that your tomorrow self will thank you for.
Unlike the taskmaster part of your psyche that demands you make an ever-longer, eternally-expanding to-do list if you would dare presume to draw breath alongside other humans (all of whom so obviously have their shit together, which is something you’ve never managed), this one feels more like a gentle invitation.
“You don’t have to lose all the weight today, magically add two hundred points to your credit score overnight, or overcome that addiction you’ve been hiding from everyone for the last twenty years. Just do one thing that will lighten your tomorrow self’s load and make the next step forward feel possible.”
I find that using these two instruments develops my imagination for what I desire in life. They also shed enough light on the path for the next step.
And that’s how life is lived, the only way it can be lived: one step at a time.
It seems as though we’ve been living through years of breaking news, unprecedented situations, and rollercoaster curves coming at us so fast that mere sanity feels impossible – much less peace of mind or feeling optimistic.
It’s good to remember the old saying that storms, no matter how fierce, never last forever.
In the meantime, if you’re feeling tired and as though you’ve lost the plot, you can use these instruments to observe and orient. They create clarity that makes the “decide and act” steps much simpler.
6 Responses
Thank you Jacob! I’ve written them on the inside cover of my journal. Good prompts for dilemmas in the new year. Or the ones I dragged with me from the old one – ha!
Happy New Year Jacob!
Thanks for these 2 tools. I really appreciate the shared advice of Victor Frankle, “The act of pausing in the middle of a previously foregone conclusion is its own small victory. You are widening the gap between stimulus and response, which Viktor Frankl tells us is where our growth and freedom live.”. I realize that if I allow myself to pause, and doing what my future self needs can help me deal with my survival tendancy to just “roll over and take it”
Thanks for the gift of your insights and experiences so that we can better negotiate the craziness of our current topsy-turvy world.
Sending Peace and Light, Annie
Always love your frank, authentic variety os smart wisdom 🙂
Thank you. I’ve written them down by my laptop to remind myself to use them to check in with myself.
I love this!
Bingo. Hit the nail on the head as usual, Jacob! Thank you for the help when it’s needed most. – Jenn MacGregor