Clarity and master-plans are overrated

A few lucky souls have crystal-clear clarity about their path. They can describe their purpose and goals with vivid details. They are sure of where they want to go, and they’ve mapped out a detailed plan to get them there.

Many of us, though, don’t have this type of gleaming assurance.

Many of us have an inkling as to what our true desires and gifts may be. But we can’t yet see how to take our vague ideas and form a bigger picture. The road ahead of us is mired in fog. We are not sure where we are going, so we’re not sure how to get there.

From the time we are kids, we are asked “what do you want to be when you grow up?” And then when we get older, we are told that to manifest a happy life, we have to have a perfect understanding of what we want. Our society places importance on planning and certainty. We envy those who seem to have it all figured out.

We wonder what’s wrong with us. We ask for signs. We read books. We meditate. We medicate. We soul-search. We eat chocolate. We wonder and wander. We begin to feel heavy-hearted because we’ve floated this far through life and still don’t have an unobscured vision of where we’re going.

A shift in perspective: having certainty isn’t necessary.
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What if we let ourselves explore the cloudiness that surrounds us one step at a time? What if we accept the mystery instead of fixating on solving it? What if we embrace our drifting? We aren’t always meant to see our entire course charted out before us.

We all have access to a complex inner guidance system. Sometimes it shines a bright beacon that pierces through blocks. Other times it seems dim, and only shows us how to shuffle our feet in a vague direction. But it is never, ever, ever, EVER extinguished. Even if you’re only getting fuzzy signals, tune in. Guidance is there, even if it’s not as specific as we may wish.

An elaborate master plan isn’t always necessary. It’s okay not to know exactly what you want. It’s okay to be unsure of precisely where you’re going. It’s okay that the edges seem frayed and fuzzy. It’s okay to only have the next week (or day, or five minutes) planned out.

We only need to see the next right step – no matter how minuscule that step may be. We only need enough illumination to see what lies directly in front of us. Once we move into that space, we can see the next small space that lies beyond. You know what you need to know.