Moving forward despite the fog

We were 20 minutes into our hike in the mountains and my brother-in-law was on his second lesson on how to use a compass. He was speaking to my son but I was listening in slyly to see whether I could answer any of his questions correctly. 

He described a hypothetical scenario. "What do you do when you're hiking in the mountains and you can't see past your feet because the fog is so thick."

My son said: "You stop and wait." 
Thierry answered: "That's an option, yes..."
Then I added, half jokingly: "You don't go on the hike in the first place."
Thierry laughed: "But what happens if the fog comes in unexpectedly?"
My answer: "You panic and cry!"

I can't remember what Thierry said after that and I've just sent him a text to try to find out (cliffhanger, alert!)

Why? Because my mind started racing.

Thierry's Survivor/Koh Lanta quiz was a great metaphor for what my clients experience before beginning our work together: they're in a panic because they're in a thick fog professionally and the longer they wait for the fog to clear up, the heavier, darker and scarier it seems to get.

They can't run back to the car (turning back the clock is out of the question) and they're desperate to find that crystal-clear mountain range up ahead in the distance where a picnic rock awaits their tired tush.  

So what do you do when you can't see your path clearly but you have to move forward?

Do you wait for the fog to clear?
What if it just gets thicker? 
How long do you wait?
Can you find a point somewhere, anywhere, that can help you move ahead?
Maybe its the sound of a river nearby.
Or a light source.
Or maybe if you calm down and listen to your heart, there's a North Star that you can set your compass to now?
So that you can take another step ahead.
And another. 
And another.

Just remember: the entire path doesn't have to be crystal clear for you to feel your way towards your destination. 

Photo by Andrew Neel on Unsplash