Mark Alan Fish

We like maps.

Maps tell us where we are, where we’re going, and, perhaps most importantly, how we’re going to get there. They give us a sense of certainty before we ever take the first step.

Life rarely offers us one.

Especially when we’re entering unfamiliar territory — changing careers, beginning or ending relationships, moving somewhere new, building something, reinventing ourselves, or simply realizing that the life we’ve been living no longer fits the person we’re becoming.

That’s where Wayfinding comes in.

Wayfinding is the practice of navigating unfamiliar territory using the cues around us, the compass within us, and what becomes visible as we move. Rather than needing a fixed map before we begin, we orient ourselves to where we are, choose a direction, move, notice, and adjust.

We don’t need the entire map before we move.

Earlier this year, I was reminded of this in a remarkably literal way.

During the month I spent in Waikiki, I regularly attended evening yoga classes. By the time class ended and I started walking back to my Airbnb, it was dark. Somewhere along my route, I needed to cross the street, and one particular landmark always told me exactly where: a hotel called Wayfinder.

I had already been thinking about Wayfinding as part of my own approach to life, so the first time I noticed the name, I had to smile. Of course it was called Wayfinder.

But something about that nightly walk stayed with me. I couldn’t see my destination when I left the yoga studio, and I didn’t need to. I knew enough of the route to begin walking. Eventually, I would see the Wayfinder, recognize where I was, cross the street, and continue toward home.

Sometimes we don’t need the whole path illuminated. We just need enough light to recognize the next marker.

That’s how much of life works.

We want certainty before we move. We want to know the new job will work out, the relationship will last, the business will succeed, the move will be right, or the choice we’re considering will lead exactly where we hope.

But certainty is often available only in hindsight.

Wayfinding asks something different of us. It asks us to become present enough to recognize the terrain we’re actually standing on rather than the terrain we wish were there. It asks us to pay attention to what we’re noticing, what we’re feeling, what is changing, and what may be calling us forward.

Then intention gives that awareness direction.

Presence tells us where we are. Intention helps us choose where to move. Wayfinding is the work between the two.

We take a step, notice what it reveals, adjust, and take another.

That isn’t indecision or wandering aimlessly. And it certainly doesn’t mean we’re lost. It means we’re navigating in real time.

Some of the most important chapters of our lives won’t come with turn-by-turn directions. Becoming rarely does. Who we’re becoming is revealed, in part, through the choices we make while the destination is still taking shape.

So perhaps the goal isn’t to become better at predicting the entire journey. It’s to become better at navigating it.

Pay attention to what is here. Choose your direction with intention. Trust what becomes visible as you move.

You don’t need the whole map.

You are not lost. You are Wayfinding.