Moment of Truth
The notification popped up on my phone at 3:57pm, just as I was packing up to leave the office for my second job. It came from my email app and read, “Globetrotting: Golden Eagle Ride, Mongolia - 2026 dates have landed!”
Shit. I’d been waiting months for this announcement, and it was finally here. But I had to hit the road, and I’d be unable to read it for another three and a half hours. That would be torture!
I sat down. With literally a couple minutes to spare, how could I not read it?
There was more to the email than I’d expected. Instead of the usual sole option for dates in September, there were now three choices. Next year there will also be an August festival departure, plus a trip in July billed as an “eagle experience.” Wide-eyed with excitement, I read on. The July eagle experience was suggested as an alternative for people who didn’t want to camp in the snow (how had I missed that detail?) or who preferred to avoid two days of standing around at a festival with no seating or concessions and witnessing the grislier traditional games like “goat carcass tug of war.” Yikes! I would have to think about this.
After my workday was over, I sat down with my laptop and a cup of tea. I looked back through the festival ride photos and saw that several featured snow. My stomach tightened. Funny how our minds can conveniently block out information we wish wasn’t true. While I prefer excessive cold to excessive heat, the Reynaud’s Syndrome which affects circulation in my fingers and toes can be dangerous in severe cold. So, I researched the weather in the Kazakh region of Mongolia in late August and early September and learned temps that time of year can run from a low of 30 at night to 70 during the day. I shrugged. This sounds like New England in October and isn’t too far off from the temperature range I’d experienced in the mountains of British Columbia.
Next, I read some reviews of the Golden Eagle Festival, and not just those on the Globetrotting website. The tour company has a Facebook group, where people freely offer honest opinions on any aspect of their experience. Nobody complained about the lack of amenities at the festival, which was described in terms like “amazing” and “life changing.” One person responded to concerns about animal killing by clarifying that the eagle competition entails the raptors racing from a mountain perch to their trainers in the valley below, rather than hunting for prey.
Okay, cool. I still wanted to go on the festival ride. And I’d opt for the August trip, when the weather would likely be milder. But what about the airfare? The website clearly stated the dates were not final, as the trip included a domestic flight from Ulaanbaatar in eastern Mongolia to a remote region near the western border, where Russia, China, and Kazakhstan meet. That domestic schedule would not be finalized until early next year, which meant all hope of booking flights using travel points (and certainly my fantasy of traveling in comfort with a lie-flat seat) was gone. Would I be willing to endure cramped 16-hour flights in economy? Could I even afford the airfare?
I scrolled down to the booking section for the Golden Eagle Festival ride in August and stared at the blue “Book” button. A voice in my mind urged, “F*ck it, we’ll figure it out.” Luckily, I’d learned that unlike “First Things First” and “Progress Not Perfection”, “Figure It Out” is not a slogan.
I needed to connect to a higher wisdom, so I sat back and closed my eyes, placed my hand on my chest. I inhaled deeply from my diaphragm, followed by a sharp second inhale and a full, slow exhale through my mouth. I repeated this twice, calming my body and mind. Great Mystery, is this trip for me now? If it is, please make it feasible. Suddenly a memory popped into my head.
On my first trip to Maine with my dog Nashville a few years ago, we’d hiked a trail which took us through a forest of towering pines and out to a wide, craggy shore. There we walked the length of pebbly beach to a mound of boulders, which we clambered across until nearing a chasm. I stood catching my breath, gazing at it with hands on hips. Looking down to the left towards the water and up to the right at the woods, there was no visible way across. Hmm. According to the map on my phone, this was the trail, but I knew our location on the map could be off by a few feet. Maybe the trail was just inside the woods, and we’d missed a turn earlier?
Nashville and I walked back to the spot where we’d entered the beach. Nope, no missed path there. We headed back to the boulders, sticking close to the edge of the woods in case the trail turned off into the woods. But the woods were roped off, and a thick border of poison ivy was visible between the sand and the trees.
We made our way back over the boulders, and again I stopped when the chasm came into view. I asked the Universe to please show us how to navigate this obstacle. I carefully made my way to the edge and peered down. The gap was too deep to climb down and too wide to jump across. Just then Nashville began slowly climbing towards the woods on our right, pulling me gently in that direction. I let him. At the top, there was no rope barrier and a short, U-shaped trail veered briefly into the woods, bridging this side of the chasm with the other. I felt myself beaming with light. Grinning, I said aloud, Thank you. The path around that obstacle had only been visible when I was willing to continue moving forward through uncertainty and became open to a solution that wasn’t self-generated.
In my living room, I opened my eyes and looked at the computer screen, hand still resting on my chest. I inhaled, letting the breath flow easily in and out, like the gentle waves on that beach in Maine. My jaw and shoulders were relaxed and the space between my breastbone and belly button tingled. The moment I’d been waiting for was finally here. It felt right. There would be challenges, for sure. But I wouldn't have to navigate them on my own.
I opened my eyes and clicked on the blue button.
How do you decide whether to move forward when the way to navigate an obstacle to something your spirit desires is uncertain?
Jamie, this piece brought a lot of things to mind.
1) First, I don’t share that theory about, “Figure it out is not a slogan” that some people hew to. I believe that the Great Universal Spirit (GUS) gave us all an intellectual, abstract and beautiful mind to be creative and solve problems—essentially, to figure things out. Sometimes, I need to figure things out—with the help of GUS.
2) So, I believe that voice that urged you “we’ll figure it out,” was the voice of GUS. Essentially telling you that with His help, you will leap over any wall. And so when you “needed to connect to a higher wisdom,” you essentially took a pause. As the saying goes: God is in the silence. And that’s when that Maine hiking “memory popped into my head” so you could hear the still, small voice of GUS.
3) You write: “The path around that obstacle –became open to that solution that wasn’t self-generated.” Well, one acronym for that beautiful PAUSE I referenced earlier is this: Perhaps Another Unseen Solution Exists.”
4) But what resonated most with me in this piece is your recognition that challenges are inevitable and the confidence that it won’t be all up to you to face them. Like the saying goes: The obstacle is the path—what is in the way, is the way. You can turn the stumbling blocks into stepping stones and keep moving forward. And trusting your unknown future to a known GUS.
5) As to your question: how do I know if it’s GUS’ will or my self-will running riot? Here’s an idea: I get up, I keep moving until I hit a wall and then I turn left. Simple. Because just as you asked the Great Mystery to show you if this is a feasible move to make, I ask GUS to put a visible insurmountable obstacle if it is not His will. That’s how I know. Strong feelings sometimes provide strong messages. That’s why, like you noted, “it felt right.”
Here's an easy mantra to remember for handling uncertainty: I don’t mind what happens, I can handle it!
Here’s an affirmation I culled today (and paraphrased) from one of my daily meditation books: I have all the tools I need to navigate all my challenges today. I will trust GUS to give me an inspired solution for whatever challenges may lie along the path tomorrow.