The Lighthouse Question: Finding Direction in Uncertain Times

There were moments in my life when I felt scared to death.

When the temptation to act fast and fix everything was overwhelming.

Affected by layoffs, barely managing the mortgage and worrying about what comes next.

Then, a solution that required leaving Poland and starting again in Ireland.

Climbing in corporate. Then leaving it to start building something of my own.

And most recently - buying land and designing my future home and a retreat space while the world feels unstable.

None of it felt safe. None of it felt certain.

But at every stage, I asked myself two very important questions:

First: Which life do I want to live? Not now - but eventually.

It became my lighthouse and the picture I kept returning to when things felt unstable.

Second: What needs to happen now, in this phase - realistically?

It was not perfect or impressive, it was messy and difficult, scary, but had the potential of moving me in the right direction.

And, every time, I started doing it - one step at a time.

Those questions became my anchor.

Because when you know what you’re building toward, temporary uncertainty and discomfort become tolerable. Then they make sense.

When hard work becomes planned investment instead of panic move, the energy shifts.

I can’t control the external factors, but I can control what I focus on, how I act, what I invest in.

And to define it well, I need time, insights, reflection, recalibration.

It’s hard to lead a company, a team, or your own life without direction.

Without direction, everything turns into reaction.

You stay alert all the time and you move a lot - but not necessarily where you actually want to go.

Many high-achievers I work with are not afraid of hard work.

They are often just too busy reacting and fixing to define their lighthouse.

Too busy responding to actually listen.

To themselves.

To what they are building toward.

Clarity does not remove uncertainty. But it makes uncertainty navigable.

And that changes everything.

When there is no direction, waiting feels like stagnation.

When there is direction, waiting becomes part of the journey.

This is where many high-achievers struggle the most: They are excellent at action.

They know how to respond, fix, organize, push things forward.

But direction requires something different.

It requires space.

Space to step back from the inbox, from the urgency, from the pressure to prove usefulness every single day.

And to ask a quieter question:

What am I actually building toward?

The lighthouse question.

Without it, every wave feels like a crisis.

With it, even storms become navigational.

The sea may still be rough.

But you know where you are going.

And when you know that, even difficult seasons stop feeling like failure.

They become preparation.