What you can see when you turn the light off

Summers feel busy and sometimes overwhelming. Everything is buzzing and blooming, taking my attention and crying for connection. It is beautiful.

Part of my morning routine is a very early walk to the Willamette River where I set some direction for the day. In the summer time, even that can feel busy: The sun is already up when I get out the door, and often I have to dodge some runners or cyclists.

This is one of the reasons why - on our last backpacking trip - I decided to go on a night walk. In the darkness. I missed the calm darkness.

It was an unfamiliar place, so I was trepidatious and made a detailed plan: I knew of a hiking trail that I wanted to follow, and brought a headlamp and some water.

With the light shining from the headlamp, I navigated the trail just as I would have in the daytime, relying on my vision. And even the thoughts going through my head were quite familiar, maybe even more nervous and frantic than during the day, when the world offers many more distractions. At some point, I got annoyed and decided that something needed to change.

So, I switched off the light.

And suddenly I saw differently: I saw the moonlight illuminating the creek running next to me. I listened more to the sounds of the creek and the rustling leaves. I noticed the dew on some of the plants that sparkled in the moonlight. And I saw less: not every root or rock in front of me revealed itself immediately. So, I had to slow down my steps in order not to fall.

After a while, I realized that I had missed the sign for the path that I wanted to follow. I passed by it - wearing my headlamp with its narrow cone of light. Going back, slowly with just the moon, it was easy to find.

I couldn’t help but think of how all of this reminded me of businesses acting in ambiguity, trying to find their path in the dark. Whether it is a startup or a company in a big transition, leaders often can’t see very far.

And while there may be reason to move fast, there is a danger in doing so: reaching for tools that make an unfamiliar place feel more like what we already know. It is a natural reflex to try playbooks or metrics that worked previously, or that seem to do the trick for the big players. But we might miss the signs and the opportunities that nobody else sees, when we sit long enough in this ambiguity.

Sometimes it is better to turn the light off, and to wait until your eyes adjust.

With care,

Martin