Remember the Horizon, Trust in the Valley

The truth of doing anything great, embracing the awkward in-between

Remember the horizon, Trust in the valley

A teacher once said, “We make commitments in a state of inspiration, knowing the inspiration will fade”.

In my experience, I have these moments every now and then, like checkpoints along the path, where I get a glimpse into the horizon of my life. I feel I can see what is to come and where I want to point my arrow, and it all feels so damn clear.

They are moments of crystal clarity and inspiration, endless possibility, freedom, and no doubt in mind that it’s all going to be okay.

“I know what I want to create. I see the path ahead!”

But the “path ahead” is never as simple and clear as it was on that horizon.

Whenever you are doing something new or unfamiliar (change), assuming it is meaningful to you, there will be an initial valley of discomfort.

Want to start expressing yourself? There’s a valley.

Want to change the way you’re expressing yourself? There’s a valley.

Want to learn a new skill? There’s a valley.

Want to pursue mastery? There are many valleys.

If you’re going for perfection, you won’t survive the valley.

If you expect to be an instant master, you won’t survive the valley.

Learning through doing, embracing the cringe, and stumbling your way into mastery are your essential guides in the valley.

And amidst all of the stumbles and experimentation, it is essential we remember the inevitability of success.

That through consistent iteration, eventually the stumble will turn into an orchestrated dance that mirrors the heart of your creation.

The question is not if you will ever “make it” or succeed; the question is if you can weather the valley.

What separates the “greats” throughout history is that they relentlessly showed up and got really good at navigating the valleys. They weren’t instant successes and were no strangers to the stumble and the cringe.

If you can somehow remember, when you encounter the cringe, that in a year from now no one will remember—and that people don’t care about you nearly as much as you think—you will have an easier time embracing the valley.

Here is a chart from James Clear’s book Atomic Habits that shows this beautifully.

We think that the path will be a linear journey of upward progress, but in reality, it is many days of chopping wood and carrying water, and then all of a sudden, we start to experience exponential growth.

That difference in how we think it will look versus how the path truly is is where most people fall off and give up, which he calls the “valley of disappointment.”

When we have a horizon moment, I think we tend to envision the point on the graph where the two lines intersect, which is why it’s a mind fuck when we enter the valley.

If you can get on board with the nature of how this works and the reality of having to go through the valley, your life will become a lot easier. Further, you wouldn’t want to avoid the valley, because it’s in the valley where we gather the gems that the world sees when we’ve “made it.”

You can’t go from A to C without going through B.

And guess what? Every single person you look up to or admire for what they created has had to go through B, and has done embarrassing shit.

They didn’t know what to do or how to do it.

They tried random ideas they didn’t know would work.

And they made many, many mistakes…

This is not a bug in the design; this is a feature.

So, as you gaze into the horizon, cherish the moment and place a spark of that clarity into a box you can keep inside of you—for the valley will come, and the horizon will fade.

And if you’re somehow reading this from the valley, congratulations. Keep going.

There is a group of us gathering in the valley around a fire, reminding each other to keep going and telling stories of what that beautiful horizon feels like. The valley wasn’t meant to be navigated alone—we need each other.

We are halfway through the first cohort of my 45-day program called The Forge, and it’s profoundly flourishing.

People are beginning to feel at home in the valley and doing the things they saw on the horizon.

I am already planning out cohort two and gathering the guild, which will commence sometime in August. Stay tuned…

“Gather ‘round the fire with the rest of us ordinary human beings, as we investigate the not-so-far-fetched possibility of becoming fully alive.” —Stephen Cope