
I Didn’t Lose Clarity — I Lost Trust in My Direction
I was driving home from TASCO 2025 Convention (Texas Association of Soccer Coaches), exhausted, ready to just get back and breathe.
I opened Waze.
Chose the route.
Started driving.
Normal.
Simple.
Done.
Except it wasn’t.
Because instead of just letting Waze lead me home,
I checked it.
Then checked it again.
Then checked it again.
Not because the route changed.
Not because traffic shifted.
Not because anything was wrong.
I kept checking because I needed to feel certain
that I was still on the right path.
And the irony?
All that “checking” is what actually pulled me off-track
and dumped me into Houston rush hour traffic —
drained, frustrated, and 30 minutes later than I should’ve been home.
I didn’t fully understand what happened
until I saw how loudly that same pattern was running my business.
This Isn’t a Waze Problem
It’s a Nervous System Problem
That drive revealed something uncomfortable:
I don’t trust my first yes.
Not on the road.
Not in fitness.
Not in business.
I am brilliant at choosing a direction.
I am exceptional at vision.
I am powerful at execution when I’m in motion.
But somewhere between commitment and momentum,
my nervous system slips into:
“Are you SURE this is the right route?”
So I re-check.
Gather more information.
Adjust.
Tweak.
Rethink.
Analyze.
Refine.
Not to go faster.
Not to be better.
To feel safe.
Because somewhere deep down there’s still a story that says:
“If I choose wrong, it will cost me.”
And leaders, entrepreneurs, creators, high-responsibility humans —
we all know that voice.
Re-Checking the Route Is Quietly Killing Progress
Here’s what the Waze pattern looks like in business:
You decide on an offer…
then rewrite it.
You choose a direction…
then second-guess it.
You build messaging…
then add more words, more nuance, more justification.
You commit to a strategy…
then open 6 browser tabs “just to compare.”
You keep touching the screen.
You keep recalculating.
You keep reopening decisions you already made.
Not because the plan is broken.
Because certainty feels like oxygen.
But over-checking doesn’t give clarity.
It gives:
mental fatigue
decision paralysis
overwhelm
delay
and loss of momentum
And the worst part?
All that “responsible thinking” masquerades as being thorough.
It looks smart.
It feels conscientious.
It sounds strategic.
But it’s actually fear wearing professionalism.
The Hidden Cost of Never Trusting the Route
When I do this in my business, it shows up as:
too many offers
too many drafts
too many versions
too many directions running at once
It feels like being “multifaceted.”
It looks like being “prepared.”
People might even applaud it.
But the nervous system cost is massive:
I get tired.
I get behind.
I get overwhelmed.
I get frustrated.
I feel late to my own life.
Just like in Houston traffic.
And eventually?
Momentum collapses.
Not because I can’t execute.
Not because I’m unclear.
Not because I’m incapable.
Because my nervous system doesn’t trust staying.
The Real Work Isn’t Choosing the Route
It’s Trusting It
Here’s the hardest honesty:
My business doesn’t struggle because of lack of opportunity.
It struggles when I refuse to commit to one clean path long enough to let it compound.
The leadership edge now isn’t:
“Be more disciplined.”
“Do more.”
“Think harder.”
“Optimize better.”
It’s: Choose. Stay.
Stop touching the screen.
The Practice I’m Building Now
I’m practicing something simple.
Painfully simple.
Once I pick the route,
I don’t reopen it unless something actually changes.
I don’t add.
I don’t rewrite.
I don’t keep trying to make it “more right.”
I let the route do its job.
Because I don’t actually need a thousand options.
I need trust.
Trust in my direction.
Trust in my work.
Trust in my nervous system to hold commitment
without needing constant reassurance.
This isn’t a victory story.
It’s a “still learning” story.
I’m not done sorting it.
I’m just done pretending I don’t see it.
And honestly?
That’s enough for right now.
I’m letting that be okay.
