Unlost

Last week I shared an article titled 'You Might Be Lost.' That was just the beginning. This is the continuation with a proper end.

It was 2006. I was lost. I was really lost. I was lost in terms of identity and geography at the same time. My identity was lost because I couldn't stand the person I'd become. I knew exactly where I was, but I couldn't stay there and had no idea where I was going. Geographically I was lost in the Costa Rican jungle, somewhere along a 300-kilometer stretch of the Pacific Ocean, searching for "secret surf spots." I was lost because even though I knew where I was going, I had absolutely no idea where I was, so I couldn't get there.

I needed to get unlost. I needed to get unlost in terms of geography and identity at the same time. But I didn't know how.

It's not obvious, and it feels scary to say - but it needs to be said, so I'll say it anyway. Lots of businesses and people get lost. Lots of businesses and people get stuck wandering around despite their desire to be found. I hate to break it to you - but if you or your business are lost, getting unlost is pretty tricky.

The funny thing about getting unlost is that it exposes your ignorance. It demands that you acknowledge the fact that you don't know. For that reason, getting unlost is humiliating. It makes you feel foolish, ashamed, injured, and defeated all at the same time. The key is to find confidence in how little you know. Because these feelings of self-doubt are not what they seem, they are merely side effects of your ego putting its feet on the ground. Once you fight through them, getting unlost becomes absolutely liberating.

Each time I emerged from the jungle to shore, I expected it would just be there - the perfect hollow wave, stood up by offshore winds and with not another soul around. But that never happened. Not once.

At times I suspected that spots I stumbled upon might be one of the secret spots I was looking for, but I could never tell for sure, at least not right away. I had to pay close attention to my surroundings - to wait and see if a scene that matched one of my secret spot descriptions emerged. I'd attentively wait for tides to rise and fall, for winds to shift offshore to onshore. In the heat of the day, the sun would pound. At dusk and dawn, pesky bugs would swarm and bite as if to tell me, 'You think you're lost, but to us, you're definitely found.' The only solution to both problems was to bury myself in the sand. I'd watch and wait impatiently at spot after spot, hoping and praying mother nature would reveal her ultimate playground.

In most spots, the perfect wave never came. Sometimes there were no surfable waves at all. Often, there was at least something to ride. But no matter the surf, each spot proved worthwhile. Uniquely beautiful views always appeared. Be assured, I found some fantastic waves too. Steep, scary lefts. Long, lazy rights. Mixed in with them, a few riptide fights. Something deep inside me was stirring, but I couldn't tell what. One thing was for sure - nothing that I knew mattered here.

I didn't know the language, the culture, or the territory. It was a trinity of ignorance that unleashed an awakening. Largely by accident, I found some of the secret spots I set out to find - but I no longer cared. I was too busy falling in love with how not knowing opened my mind.

In 2006 I was lost. I was really lost. I didn't realize it at the time, but I was getting unlost. I was getting unlost in terms of geography and identity simultaneously. As my mindset shifted - a new world appeared, and little by little, courage replaced fear. Liberated by not knowing, I discovered the discipline of figuring things out.

The first thing I figured out was how to navigate. I stopped trying to know every detail and focused on just the right few. I was in Costa Rica - just East of the Pacific. I was headed North - chasing down a version of me that was no longer horrific. The ocean was my compass from that point on. As long as she was on my left, nothing could go wrong.

Next, the ocean exposed how I was shallow and frail. She whispered to me repeatedly - but I was too busy surfing, so I didn't hear. She didn't get angry. She just kept whispering until, all of a sudden, her message struck with force. "I called you to the ocean to surf and chill - but my real agenda is to impose my will. No matter how much you know and how strong you are - compared to the forces out here, you have no strength, power, control, or authority."

It all became clear in super-speed slow motion. What I thought was true was overwhelmingly false. The shock of this insight could have shattered my world, but the opposite happened. For the first time in a long time, I could feel my pulse.

Until then, I had believed that surfing, like everything in life, was about me. I thought success was a function of my strength, power, control, and authority. I surfed to assert my will on each wave. Now I realized that I had it all wrong. Because what I'd known was no longer an option, there was finally some space to figure things out. That's when the keys to surfing revealed themselves: Pay close attention, understand natural forces, and tap into their power to connect meaningfully and express yourself.

In the months before, a few surfers had asked if I was surfing or if I'd become a surfer yet. It was a mysterious question that never made sense, but with this new revelation, it instantly did. Surfers are surfers because they surf with curiosity, humility, and intentionality.

With this as my motive, everything changed. I noticed patterns in how the waves were organized. I could sense a wave forming before it was there. I could identify the source of power and be positioned to humbly ask the best waves, 'Will you please dance with me? '

It was about then; the jungle had something to say. I returned to my car to find it overtaken by monkeys. They'd caught a whiff of the food inside and were trying to break in like peanut butter and jelly junkies. I was initially furious at these thieving intruders, but curiosity, humility, and intentionality rushed in. With this mindset, my anger faded. I admired their antics. I realized that I was the intruder in their habitat. I approached the car unthreateningly. I tossed them a PB&J as I drove away - all the while with a smile on my face.

A couple days later, the jungle spoke to me again. This time through a wild pig who was protecting his territory. As our eyes met, we both smiled for a moment, then realized respecting each other didn't mean we'd be friends. As he charged like a missile along the jungle floor, I turned and ran like a soldier losing a war. I narrowly got away by grabbing the branch of a tree. Eventually, he lost interest and faded back into the jungle. I imagine, to this day, that pig and his buddies laugh about the gringo with a surfboard running barefoot, screaming into the night.

Last but not least, while I was out there, getting unlost - I rediscovered the beauty and power of humanity. Mysteriously, complete strangers started being extra kind, as if how I carried myself triggered a disarming response in them.

When I was wandering aimlessly, I'd asked many people, with the few Spanish words I knew, if they could direct me to places where I might find a restaurant or grocery. They always helped and offered directions, but on this day, that's not how it happened.

In the middle of nowhere, I pulled my car beside a tiny older woman to ask for directions. As she turned, I was struck by her undeniable grace. Wisdom was etched deep in her eyes and the lines on her face. She stopped what she was doing and smiled warmly, then pointed to a chair outside of her house. Initially, I wasn't sure what she meant, but I quickly realized that she was offering to feed me herself.

It was 2006. I was in Costa Rica - just East of the Pacific, headed North - chasing down a version of me that was no longer horrific. As I sat in a broken plastic chair outside a humble tin hut, in curious wonder at a stranger's intentional act of kindness, my eyes teared up - because, at that moment, I realized I'd finally found myself.

As I sit in my office writing this now, it's so vivid it's almost as if I'm sitting there and then - so much so that my eyes are tearing up again.

It's not obvious, and it feels scary to say - but it needs to be said, so I'll say it anyway. Lots of businesses and people get lost. Lots of businesses and people get stuck wandering around despite their desire to be found. I hate to break it to you - but if you or your business are lost, getting unlost is pretty tricky.

In 2006 I got unlost. I got unlost in terms of geography and identity at the same time. I got unlost by tapping into the power of my ignorance.

You can get unlost, too, by applying three principles I learned in the surf. They offer a path to a preferred reality in surfing, life, relationships, and business: Pay close attention, understand natural forces, then tap into their power to connect meaningfully and express yourself.

I'd be lying if I told you I'm always great at these. In fact, at times, I suck at them. It's easy to get lost in the chaos of life, business, and relationships. Still, when it happens to me, it's almost always because I've lost touch with them. So, I can tell you with confidence that one thing is for sure if you are lost in life, relationships, business, a career change, marketing, sales, operations, innovation, customer experience, or a trip to Disneyland - the way to get unlost, time and again, is through humility, curiosity, and intentionality.