Setting your sails

When there’s a storm, reef deep and hang on. (Image by 0fjd125gk87)

I’m starting to get sailing.

It’s funny to write that at the end of December when our boat is up on poppets at the boatyard and will be for months. But it’s true, I’m starting to figure it out.

I used to think that the boat went in the direction that the wind is blowing. But that’s what would happen in a boat with no rudder (and no keel).

No, as best as I can explain it, the lift created by the water acting on the boat resists the lift created by the wind in the sails, allowing you to steer with the rudder while being powered by the wind.

That means that, pretty much no matter where the wind is coming from, you can find a way to get to your destination.

You can practically smell the metaphor coming, can’t you? This is not a piece about sailing. This is a piece about planning and goal setting.

Of course, we know that a plan allows us to not be blown around by the wind. We drop our centerboard, set our sails, and steer toward our destination (i.e., our goal).

However, a lot of us still approach this work as though we’re symbolically putting a little paper boat out onto the water — perhaps with a message inside. We set our intentions and hope for the best. We don’t want to push toward a goal or force our way through a plan that is subject to the vagaries of life.

In other words, we don’t actually believe that we can influence what will happen. Our little paper boat drifts around on currents of water and wind until it gets stuck or sinks while we do whatever we would normally do.

I have struggled a ton over the years with this gap between intention and results. Planning always felt like a borrowed ritual, like a lantern festival or the burning of sage. I could say what I wanted to happen, but I didn’t really know how to turn it into reality. My goal was really just a wish.

It’s hard to pinpoint exactly what changed, but I honestly think it was starting this blog. Sharing my work not only allowed me to undertake the practice of daily writing and the self-discipline that goes along with that, it also facilitated the process of meeting new people and building relationships with them. Since opportunities come from relationships with people, there has been a meaningful flow of opportunities ever since.

I figured that if I could systematically increase my rate of meeting new people and interacting with them, I could likely increase the flow rate of new opportunities. That hypothesis turned out to be true.

Thus, my planning is much easier now. I decide where I want to go, and then work backward to determine what actions I will need to take in order to get there. Prepared with a list of these actions, I set my sails and go, adjusting course as needed.

Just as I can’t control the wind speed or direction, I can’t control what other people do or how they respond to me. But I can adapt. I can trim my sails. I can change tack. I can even turn on the motor for a bit. I can look at how my own actions are influencing the results I’m getting and optimize them.

And of course, I’m the one steering.

If I don’t know which actions are likely to take me where I want to go, my first task is going to be creating a plan to figure that out (generally, a series of experiments). Once I know what works, I’ve just got to do it, consistently and confidently. I am certain that I will get where I want to go.

Having finally learned how to set my sails and follow through to arrive at a desired result, it brings me great satisfaction to guide others through that process. I learn more about how to do it every day. If there’s something I can do to help you, please let me know.