Clarity is Overrated: How to Move Forward When You Don’t Know What’s Next

This post is part of my Lessons from the In-Between series—real stories and honest reflections on what helped me find my next step when the path ahead wasn’t clear.  You can read the first one here.


After I lost my job, I found myself in a strange season.

I didn’t know what was next. I didn’t have a plan. I was in-between—no longer where I had been, but not yet where I was going. And while I didn’t have many answers, I did have a lot of questions.

One day, I was talking to a wise friend on the phone, trying to sort through the uncertainty. I said something about how I just wished I had some clarity.

He let out his big broad laugh and said, “Clarity is overrated.”

It caught me off guard. At first, I wasn’t sure I agreed. But over time, I’ve come to see the truth in his response.

Clarity is great when we have it—but most of the time, we don’t. Or at least not all at once. And if we wait to move until we’re completely clear? We may never move at all.


Clarity Comes from Movement

That season taught me something I return to again and again, both for myself and for the people I coach: Clarity doesn’t come before action. It comes through it.

We tend to treat clarity like a finish line, a prerequisite, or a sign from the heavens. But in real life? It usually shows up one step at a time—after we’ve started moving.

I often tell my clients this:

Imperfect action beats perfect inaction every day.

When I look back, I realize most of the major decisions in my life didn’t come with a spotlight or a perfectly crafted 10-year plan. Marriage, jobs, this business I’m building—it’s all been a process of listening, discerning, acting, and adjusting.

The clarity I have today was shaped by the steps I was willing to take yesterday.


Building My Business Without a Map

Starting this business wasn’t some clean, polished story either.

A few weeks ago, I shared the story of the flash of inspiration behind this business.  But I didn’t have a clear path or a tidy mission statement right away. So I did what I could—I tried things.  I looked at everything like an experiment and got curious about what I’d learn.

I kept a spreadsheet (of course I did). Every time I led a workshop, spoke to a group, or worked with a client, I tracked it. Who did I serve? What did we work on? What was the response? But maybe most importantly: How did it feel?

I paid attention to my energy. What felt life-giving? What left me drained? What came naturally? What felt forced?

That spreadsheet became my compass. It helped me see patterns and pay attention to what mattered. I didn’t just act blindly—I took action, and then I reflected.

And no, I still didn’t have full clarity. But I had more clarity. Enough to take the next step.


Letting Go of the Master Plan (and the Illusion of Control)

I used to think I had to have the whole thing mapped out. A five-year plan. All the boxes checked. All the answers in place before making a move.  Not just in business, but in life, too.

But here’s the truth: the plan is going to change anyway.  Life is too dynamic, too real, too human for perfect plans to hold up. 

What I’ve learned is that I don’t need the whole plan. I just need the next right step.

What’s one thing I can do with what I know right now?

I still like a good plan—I’m wired that way. But I’ve learned that trying to blueprint every detail is often just a way to delay. It’s a form of fear dressed up in productivity.


Choosing Trust Over Clarity: A Spiritual Reframe

There’s a story I keep coming back to—one that speaks to the spiritual side of all this. It’s from Brennan Manning’s book Ruthless Trust, and I want to share it here in full:

“When the brilliant ethicist John Kavanaugh went to work for three months at 'the house of the dying' in Calcutta, he was seeking a clear answer as to how best to spend the rest of his life. On the first morning there he met Mother Teresa. She asked, ‘And what can I do for you?’

Kavanaugh asked her to pray for him.

‘What do you want me to pray for?’ she asked.

He voiced the request that he had borne thousands of miles from the United States: ‘Pray that I have clarity.’

She said firmly, ‘No, I will not do that.’

When he asked her why, she said, ‘Clarity is the last thing you are clinging to and must let go of.’

When Kavanaugh commented that she always seemed to have the clarity he longed for, she laughed and said,

‘I have never had clarity; what I have always had is trust. So I will pray that you trust God.’”

That story gets me every time.

Because don’t we all want clarity? It feels like safety. Like security. Like control.

But what if trust is even better?


The Truth About Clarity

Here’s what I know now:

Clarity doesn’t usually come in the stillness of waiting—it comes in the motion of doing.

It grows with us.

Sometimes it shows up in hindsight. Sometimes it’s hidden in feedback. Sometimes it’s hiding in our gut, waiting for us to listen.

But more often than not, clarity is something we grow into, not something we’re handed.

And maybe, like Mother Teresa said, the invitation isn’t to seek certainty—but to practice trust.


Some Questions for Your Journey

If you’re not sure what’s next and are searching for clarity, it might be worth asking:

  • What am I waiting to know before I allow myself to begin?

  • Where have I found clarity only after I took the first step?

  • What’s one small, meaningful action I could take this week?

  • How – or whom – am I being invited to trust?

These aren’t questions with easy answers—but they can open a new kind of conversation. One that moves us from stuck to curious, from spinning to stepping forward. One that helps us trade certainty for courage.


Need Help Growing Your Clarity?

If you’re in your own “in-between”—if you’re waiting, wondering, or stuck in the swirl—maybe it’s time to stop waiting for perfect clarity and start moving toward the next right thing.

Sometimes talking it through with a coach can help uncover what matters most, name the fears beneath the fog, and take brave steps forward.

If that sounds like something you’re looking for, I’d love to walk with you.  Let’s have a chat and see what might be the next right step for you.

I found greater clarity by talking things through with people who listened and asked good questions.

I’d be honored to hold that space for you, too.


Like this blog? 

Sign up to get new posts delivered directly to your inbox!

Next
Next

You’re Allowed to Change Your Mind