My tip for finding the next right action

How stillness, not urgency, reveals the right next step.

“Do you have the patience to wait
Till your mud settles and the water is clear?
Can you remain unmoving
Till the right action arises by itself?”

—Chapter 18, Lau Tsu’s Tao Te Ching, Translated by Stephen Mitchell

Photo by Tim Marshall on Unsplash

Did you know that when you get CPR—the forceful, repetitive compression of your chest to restart your heart—your ribs and your sternum often break? Like they literally break your bones?

In fact, when my dad was dying in the hospital last month, I asked the nurse about CPR and she told me that the ribs being broken “proves you’re doing it right.”

It turned out, you see, that my dad had no DNR—no “do not resuscitate” order. The nurse looked at his chart on the computer and told me he was “full code,” meaning that all measures would be taken to keep him alive.

I looked at him in his bed. At 93, he was frail and had been in pain for weeks. He was confused. In fact, it was a broken rib that had brought him to the hospital in the first place. He fell, broke a rib, it punctured his lung.

I couldn’t stand the fact that he might have to live on in this condition with—potentially—a bunch more broken ribs to add to his pain.

The thing is, I couldn’t directly do anything about it. I was not his health proxy. And I didn’t know how to bring it up with the person who was his health proxy in a way that wouldn’t cause that person a lot of pain.

I went to the charge nurse. I explained the situation. She said she would get the unit social worker to come and have a conversation. But the charge nurse never did as she promised. The conversation was never had.

I lived in the tension of worrying, not that my dad would die, but that his last moments alive would be in extreme pain.

I wondered: What does it do to a spirit if it departs the world in pain instead of peace?

I don’t know the answer to that.

I also didn’t know what to do.

⏸️ Take a Moment To Reflect Here:
When have you known something needed to happen, but didn’t know if you should act? What helped the right action eventually become clear?

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The Moment of Clarity

So I waited. In hindsight, on some level, I think I knew, as Lao Tsu would say, the mud had not settled and the water was not clear. No action was yet arising by itself.

Then, one night, the doctor came in and explained to my dad that there was a chance he would have to be intubated—a tube put down his throat so a machine could breathe for him.

My dad weakly said that he didn’t want that. He said no to the tube three or four times. But in the confusion and beeping of machines, he wasn’t heard except by me.

Finally, the mud had cleared and my right action arose by itself: all I had to do was ask everyone to be quiet and listen to him.

There was nothing forceful in it. The person who was the health proxy was sad but not hurt. And I had a sense that the right thing had happened in the right way and not through my willfulness. Actually, it happened through my staying still.

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What It Means to Live By Your Compass

There is so much mud in the water for so many people these days.

Many of my coaching clients lead philanthropic foundations and their entire professional landscape has changed.

“It’s like a bomb went off and the air is filled with dust,” one client said. “We have to wait for the dust to settle.”

“It may not settle,” I said. “You cannot wait.”

(I know this seems to oppose Lao Tsu’s “wait for the mud to settle” but bear with me.)

I continued: “You can no longer navigate by the landscape—by assessing your circumstances—you have to navigate by your compass, your direction.”

“I’ll get the team to perform an assessment,” she said.

“No,” I said. “This is a time when you will have to rest in your compass, your direction, not a direction deduced from the circumstances.”

I asked my client: “Who are you? What gifts do you intend to bring to the world? Bring the those gifts to all your actions and trust the outcome. That’s what it means to live by your compass.”

When Lao Tsu says wait for the mud to settle, he means wait until you can see through your pain and discomfort and fear to your compass, your direction, your way of being, your gift.

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A Gift Beyond Circumstance

I work a lot with the heads of organizations to help them know their stand—what they choose to give to the world. Lots of times, they define the impact they want to offer.

Often, this impact translates into a concrete metric—3 timesing total revenue, 5 timesing a particular type of revenue are two real examples from my clients.

Sometimes, their compass point is not their impact but a chosen way of being. One leader came to be underwater in spreadsheets and calendar invites. But her gift—at least the one she wanted to give—is vision and the ability to navigate an organization towards it.

Meanwhile, circumstances in her work life were a full email inbox and lots meeting requests. Her fear of ignoring all those pings was the mud. Through clear water, seeing through the mud of her fear, she saw that right actions involve her ignoring the pings and instead taking steps towards manifesting her vision.

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Clarity Comes With Action

Just now, as I type and drink coffee, someone I work with approached and spoke to me. Her vision is to connect local, organic farming with medical education in preventative healthcare and disease treatment in every medical school in the country.

For her, the mud is a constant idea that she needs to know exactly how, to get a long-term strategy. But seeing through the mud and arriving at clarity just means to act in accord with her compass TODAY.

So sure, work on finding a holistic strategy but TODAY call a medical school and arrange a conversation. That’s letting the mud settle until you can trust your compass and let action arise by itself.

⏸️ Take a Moment To Reflect Here:
What would happen if you acted from your compass today? Even before you see the path beyond?

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Commitment Over Confidence

What this kind of work requires is a trust in your way of being. Scratch that. Trust is something you feel or you don’t. Actually, it requires a commitment to your way of being whether you feel trust or not.

I was committed to my dad not having more ribs broken and to his health proxy not having to be in the pain of a too hard decision. I didn’t know how. I can’t say I trusted myself. I was just committed to a way of being.

You could say, it might not have worked out. That’s true. But believe me, things not working out when you are in integrity with yourself is much better than things not working out when you know you betrayed yourself.

Photo by Jamie Street on Unsplash

What Is Your Compass?

How do you not betray yourself?

Who are you?

What are you committed to?

Where does your compass point?

In short, what will you see about your life’s direction if you are patient enough to wait for the mud of fear and anger and clinging to survival to clear?

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Let’s Talk About It

Today, I’d love to hear from you about clarity and action. When have you waited for the mud to clear? When did you have to act before it did?

What’s your compass telling you right now?

Please join in the conversation by subscribing and leaving a comment below.

With love,

Colin

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