Uncertainty. Sometimes even the word can make you anxious. Last week, I traveled on my own for the first time in quite a while. Since my hip surgery, I've had to reconsider what traveling independently looks like for me—getting through airports, sleeping somewhere unfamiliar, managing an itinerary, attending meetings, and still keeping up with my work. Before leaving, I found myself checking everything several times. Do I have this? Did I confirm that? What am I forgetting? Then at some point, I realized I could check everything ten more times and still not control everything that might happen. I needed to be present and deal with what was actually in front of me.

Apparently, the universe decided I needed an opportunity to practice that lesson! On my return trip, there were warnings that Tropical Storm Lala could cause delays. We boarded the plane and made it all the way to the runway. We were ready to take off when the pilot made the decision to turn the plane around. We weren't going home. The flight was canceled, and suddenly hundreds of passengers were scrambling to figure out what came next. Uncertainty again. I started calling hotels near the airport. After about five calls, I thought I had snagged one of the last available rooms—only to discover the next day that the reservation service I had called wasn't actually the hotel. Another lesson in slowing down, asking questions, and checking what is actually in front of me.

The next morning brought more uncertainty. Back to the airport. Another flight. This time I had to fly in the opposite direction before I could eventually head toward Hawaiʻi. Then came another delay. At that point, I could have spent all of my energy worrying about what else might go wrong. Instead, there wasn't much left to do except go with it. Eventually, the plane took off. And somewhere over the ocean, something shifted. I knew I was finally headed home. I could see the progress. My shoulders dropped. My brain quieted. Home was getting closer.

That experience reminded me that certainty doesn't always come when we want it. We can prepare, organize, make lists, check the weather, and have a beautiful itinerary and life can still turn the plane around. What wecando is come back to the present moment and ask, What can I do right now? Sometimes that's all the certainty we get. And sometimes, after navigating all the detours, we finally see the sign we've been waiting for. For me, it was being over the ocean and knowing I was headed home. We don't always need to know the entire route ahead. Sometimes we just need enough certainty to take the next step.