On finding direction.
The art and science.
Finding or setting direction is both a science and an art. As I’ve guided people into WaysFinding, I’ve discovered three patterns. (I’m sure there are more!)
1. Sometimes, direction is obscured by certainty.
We begin with a strong sense of what we think we’re looking for. But in complexity, that certainty often points to something else: a surface-level goal, a prescribed next step, or a “should” that doesn’t quite sit right.
The more genuine sense of direction only emerges when we slow down, become curious and look again.
The other day in a workshop, a leadership team came in with a clear brief:
“Help us find a hybrid work strategy that works for everyone.”
It’s a valid request, albeit relatively narrow. And we could have immediately applied the Waysfinder framework to do just that.
But as the conversation unfolded, something else began to shimmer beneath the surface.
Why the focus on hybrid work?
“Because some employees aren’t coming to the office, despite a three-day-a-week policy.”
Why the three-day mandate?
“Because collaboration works better when we’re physically together.”
How often do these employees actually need to collaborate?
“Not that often, they’re developers who mostly work alone.”
So why the insistence on being in the office?
“Because our culture is rooted in togetherness. We want to create an atmosphere where people want to come in.”
And there it was.
The truer direction: less about logistics, more about belonging.
Once that deeper intent surfaced, the horizon of possibility widened.
A hybrid work strategy might be one expression of that intent. But if the real desire is to cultivate a felt sense of togetherness, there are many other paths to explore. Including:
· What does togetherness look like when we’re not in the office?
· How might togetherness mean different things to different people?
· If this matters so deeply, should it also inform hiring strategies?
This is the kind of shift that can only happen when we pause long enough to notice what’s underneath the question we’re being asked. And if we are courageous enough to ask hard questions.
2. Sometimes direction only reveals itself when we let go of the need to have one. stop trying to force it.
When we let go of the “shoulds” … by now we should know where we’re going; leaders should have a clear intent …
We discover direction when we stop trying to force it and allow ourselves to meander, to test, to experiment …until something resonates. In Waysfinding, this involves orienting (where are we now in relation to our context) and getting clear on our guardrails. What do we know for sure about where we can’t, or don’t want to go?
Within those guardrails, we conduct 360-degree experimentation. In short, we try different things until we find something that resonates.
3. And finally, sometimes direction reveals itself retrospectively, when we allow ourselves to drift.
This is how my career unfolded. I had no plan or intent; I wasn’t intentionally experimenting. I followed my curiosity and acted on open doors or opportunities.
I studied Meteorology, but soon realised it wasn’t for me. The opportunity that presented itself to exit that path was into computer programming. My curiosity and my artistic side led me to jump into web design. From there, I simply followed open doors until I ended up at IBM, where I encountered complexity. I resigned, not because I had a plan, but because I knew I couldn’t continue practising what felt so alive to me in IBM. I kept following my curiosity and energy right up to this present moment. Looking back, connecting dots, I can see how I was following a “stream already flowing” all along. What is known as retrospective coherence.
I could never have planned the career and life I have now. Direction emerged through drift, and trusting my intuition. Looking back, the biggest mistakes I made involved not trusting my intuition, not following aliveness.
These last two aren't easy in a world that pathologises not having a plan. However, this space of not knowing is often the birthplace of new momentum and creativity.
Trusting emergence is not a passive stance; it requires a different kind of presence and attunement.
It invites us to embody COOL.
· Courage to stay with discomfort and not rush to premature clarity
· Openness to explore, especially at the edges
· Observing what feels alive vs. what depletes
· Lightness to play, to loosen identity, and to let emergence surprise us
It’s not about aimless wandering. It’s about dignifying drift and validating seemingly aimless experimentation—recognising it as a legitimate and even necessary phase of orientation, especially in complex situations.
Because sometimes, the most powerful direction comes not from deciding, but from discerning.
Not from forcing a path, but from tuning in to where aliveness is calling.