I May Never Get "Back on Track"

A reminder that not all who wander are lost

Read Time: 3 minutes

For 10 years I’ve been telling myself (and others) a story about how doing my MBA got me “back on track”. The track I fell off of when my mom was diagnosed first with cancer, then with terminal cancer.

It was a very plausible story. I had the work ethic and tools and credentials and network to be on a track that was even better than what I could have imagined growing up.

For years I’ve believed my own story, that if I at least have the right job-one that pays well, has a great team, and a mission that excites me-then I’ll feel like I’m on track again.

But I realized recently that I never did get back on track, and maybe never will.

Watching my hardworking mom die before she could have a retirement party, permanently changed my view of work. For better or worse? Time will tell I suppose.

Don’t get me wrong, I actually really like working, and I “go to work” every day. My work just looks very different than I thought it would.

I thought I would achieve a lot more (status, wealth, impact..) than I have (or likely ever will). I thought I would be on a fast track, one that was clear and defined.

But my track is all over the place, if I’m even on one at all.

It reminds me of a day I got lost cycling in Sudan, while trying to follow dirt tracks that were all over the place. Even the locals pointed me in vastly different directions.

Cycling near Dinder National Park, Sudan, 2012

I could have sworn I took a picture during this time, but I can’t find it now. The picture above gives a sense of the tracks I was trying to follow, except now I was alone, low on water, exhausted after a full day cycling in sand and brutal heat, and hours behind the men pictured.

I’m laughing as I write this and realize what a perfect comparison this experience was to how I’m feeling now: the well-meaning experts (locals) were no help whatsoever in trying to point me in the right direction.

I had to help myself, and that started with not having a full-blown panic attack as the sun was starting to set. It’s cliche, but I had to listen to my gut, which meant:

1. breathing

2. reminding myself I could do this

3. telling myself this is part of the adventure and that, maybe, one day (today!) I’ll feel grateful for this experience

4. paying extra attention to my surroundings (whose pointed finger to trust? which direction felt most right?) and

5. trusting myself as I make my next move

The same thing I am doing now.

I really, truly, have no idea where I’m going. It’s scary and I feel at times like the only one who doesn’t. But more and more I trust that I am not lost. I am taking in my surroundings, listening to myself, and perhaps most importantly, enjoying the adventure.

“All of our days are numbered; we cannot afford to be idle. To act on a bad idea is better than to not act at all because the worth of the idea never becomes apparent until you do it. Sometimes this idea can be the smallest thing in the world, a little flame that you hunch over and cup with your hand and pray will not be extinguished by all the storm that howls about it. If you can hold on to that flame great things can be constructed around it that are massive and powerful and world changing – all held up by the tinniest of ideas.”
- Nick Cave