Embracing the unknown

Over the last month, I’ve been away on a scuba diving trip down in Fiordland. Fiordland National Park is a beautiful, pristine part of New Zealand, a landscape carved by glaciers and marked by stunning fiords and an ancient rainforest.

I had no phone signal. I was completely disconnected from the world. It was a massive pause, coming at the heels of a very busy time- in the last few months I got COVID for the first time, spent what felt like ages recovering from it, quit my job, started a new job and completed my Advanced Scuba training. This would’ve felt like a lot at the best of times, factor in the slow COVID recovery and the need to get my body back to a level of fitness that enabled scuba training, and it’s been a very busy time.

But it was all leading up to this trip to Fiordland, something I’d booked months ago. I usually dive at a depth of 10m, and on this trip that number went up to 30m. This was well beyond my comfort zone, and I was simultaneously excited and anxious. In the lead up to this, I must’ve called the dive shop with a bazillion questions, some important, most inane. I was trying to get as much information as possible so I’d feel a bit more at ease.

In the end, I was well-prepared and even more well supported thanks to my fellow travelers and my dive buddy. On my first dive, I remember feeling all kinds of nerves as I stepped off the boat and lunged into the water. As soon as I got in though, I was just awestruck. The visibility was amazing, and the underwater views were nothing short of miraculous. This is such an untouched part of the world, it was a rare treat to explore it. I felt like I was in the Little Mermaid, schools of fish swimming all around me, an underwater forest teeming with life all around. It was so special.

All this time I was so terrified of how uncertain and unknown this trip felt, I was venturing into new territory and going deeper than ever before. It was scary, but that first dive showed me how incredible it can be to take chances, how much beauty lurks beyond the fog of the unknown.

With all the quiet and space to do nothing but read and write and swim and hang, I had a lot of time to delve inward. The quiet was so loud- there was so much insight that came to the surface. I could see parts of my life I didn’t always see, the parts that lurked in the deeper than I usually go. I spent a lot of time writing as I explored all of this. Some of that was insightful, some of that was challenging, and all of it was meaningful. 

It’s a bit cliché really, this notion of going away, unplugging and how powerful that is. People talk about disappearing into cabins, or taking off and traveling around the world, etc. I went in expecting it to be powerful, and it was. I also went in expecting it to be like clouds parting, you see the sky again and the sun comes through. That wasn’t so much the case. Actually it felt messy and miraculous and adventurous.

I was delving deep, inside and out; I was feeling soft, inside and out. I think that’s the true power of a pause, it holds up a mirror and allows you look and explore, to hold yourself and your life lightly.

I came face to face with my ambition and desire for control. I feel such a deep desire to make my mark in the world, to create something meaningful. I often hustle and push and put pressure on myself to fuel this ambition, and I’m not sure that’s served me well. There’s been so much drive to push things in a certain direction that I’ve lost my ability to be surprised, to allow the things I love to take me somewhere unexpected and uncertain.

Since the pandemic, it feels like our lives, both personal and professional, feel overcast with a seriousness and a constant hustle of survival. Each year feels crazier than the one before, and we just keep taking on more and more. In all this survival and hustle, I feel like I’ve lost my ability to just be, to embrace life’s magic and adventure, and be present in the ups and the downs. I realised how much the pandemic experience has corroded my tolerance for stepping into the unknown.

I’ve been back for a few weeks now, things still feel messy but I’m starting to love that. In my work life and home life, I’m trying to control less and tune in more; rather than rushing to create a pseudo sense of clarity and control, I’m trying to stay with the ambiguity until I do see clearly.

Uncertainty continues to be the norm, we’re all sensing the unease in the market, waiting and watching to see what will transpire. So much of my work is in supporting organisations in navigating uncertainty. This trip has been a good reminder for me to re-examine my relationship with the unknown and uncertain in my personal life as well. My ability to be open and curious feels brittle since the pandemic, overshadowed by a constant quest for clarity and control, lost in a futile attempt to tame things that are out of my scope of control. 

It feels incredibly uncomfortable, this acceptance and surrender. I’m trying to accept my humanity, it feels like a big shift to step into curiosity and openness in this way. But I’m hanging my hat, very nervously, on the belief that embracing the unknown may lead me to a cooler destination and lead to a more pleasant journey. If there’s one thing that first dive in Fiordland reminds me, it’s the power of the unknown and seeing what’s possible.

Me underwater!

Photo Credit: my awesome dive buddy/instructor, Elliott Pannett.