The uncertainty before the hike
Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about how much we fear the unknown.
It’s that paralyzing feeling you get when you’re standing at the starting line of a new project, a career pivot, or a personal goal. You look ahead, and instead of seeing a clear, well-lit path, you just see fog.
The uncertainty of starting out.
Most of the time, our minds demand a map. We want a guarantee, a checklist, or a cosmic sign that everything will turn out perfectly before we commit to taking a single step. Heck, we'd believe a random fortune cookie if it gives the tiniest bit of assurance.
And when we don’t get that guarantee? Our default reaction is to just stop. We freeze. We tell ourselves we aren't ready yet, or that we'll start when the timing is "perfect."
But what if we’re looking at it all wrong? What if not knowing how it'll all work out isn't a warning sign to turn back? What if it’s the exact reason why you should keep going?
When we face uncertainty, our brains naturally loop through anxious, self-doubting questions:
How far can I actually make it before I burn out?
How hard can it really get?
How will things change once I finally make it?
These questions are exhausting because they try to solve a future that hasn't happened yet. They focus entirely on the external obstacles. But there’s a much more beautiful, internal question we often forget to ask:
How will you change once things work out?
We spend so much energy worrying about the worst-case scenarios that we forget to imagine who we could become if we succeed. The uncertainty isn't a brick wall keeping you out; it’s an open space designed for you to grow into.
Imagine yourself a few years down the road. You’re sitting alone with your thoughts, looking back at the exact choice you are facing today. When you look back at this moment, you really only have two options for what you'll say to yourself:
1. "I'm so glad I did it."
2. "I wish I did it."
Both choices require energy. The first one requires a temporary burst of courage to face discomfort and vulnerability.
The second one? It leaves you with the weight of regret that sits with you for years. If you're going to carry something, carry the fatigue of trying, not the burden of wondering what if.
It’s also incredibly easy to fall into the trap of looking at the future and thinking, "Next year is going to be better than this one." We treat the flipping of a calendar page like a magical reset button that will automatically fix our lives and hand us motivation.
But a change in the date doesn't change our reality. Whether the future turns out to be a good year or a tough one doesn't depend on luck—it depends on you. It depends on the small, unglamorous, intentional decisions you make on a random Tuesday when nobody is watching.
The Hike
Life is a lot like a mountain trail. Right now, you might be standing at the very base. The path looks incredibly steep, the peak is completely hidden in the clouds, and you have no idea what challenges are waiting for you around the bend. It's completely normal to feel intimidated.
You don't need to see the entire trail to start moving. You don't need all the answers right now.
You just need enough courage to take the next step.
Because you’ll never know what the view looks like from the top if you never take the hike.
So, let's take a hike.
I hope you find this insightful, remember:
It's not gonna be easy
But it's not impossible
Your friend
Brian