Life Around the Bend – Dealing with Uncertainty
This summer I went on a journey of discovery through beautiful Colorado, a colorful state that truly lives up to its name.
On this trip, I drove along the “highest paved road” in Colorado. What an experience—scenically, technically, and emotionally. Impressive views, wildlife, and even stretches of ice and snow.
The road, proudly advertised at the park entrance, was bumpy and full of potholes. Some were so deep that swerving close to the edge was unavoidable—without any guardrails. The road was steep and winding. There were oversized cars, reckless speeders, overly cautious drivers, and even cyclists pedaling uphill. I shifted between admiration and pity.
Herds of mountain goats and marmots crossed the road, often just around a bend.
Caution was essential. The drive triggered excitement, exertion, fascination—and admittedly, thrill.
Why am I telling you this?
In one photo I took, a bend lies ahead. The road disappears into the unknown. I knew it would continue—but how, and in what condition? I didn’t know what waited beyond the bend, nor when the road would finally end.
That moment made me reflect on life. We constantly face uncertainty, ups and downs. Sometimes the road is rough, sometimes we feel close to the edge without guardrails. And then there are moments of ease—encounters, joy, effortless focus.
Cyclists pass us with visible effort, yet radiate motivation. From the outside, they seem to master life with ease.
How often don’t we know what comes next?
How often do we move forward relying only on what we can see?
How often do we face a bend without knowing what’s beyond it?
And still, somehow, it goes on.
Somehow.
Our strategy changes. We adjust equipment, slow down, take breaks. Sometimes we seek companions; sometimes we go alone. And we look back, proud of the distance already covered.
When a bend appears, some speed up, others pause and breathe. Sometimes there is an alternative route. A plan B.
What is certain: we are not alone beyond the bend. Others are there too—drivers, cyclists, hikers.
Out there in Colorado, in the middle of nowhere, I was driving alone—and yet I never felt alone. People were considerate, supportive, and helpful. No honking. No anger.
Applied to life, this means accepting differences, respecting individual ways of coping, and most importantly, supporting and looking out for one another.
Each of us has a unique story shaped by formative experiences. Who are we if we don’t accept, respect, and value them?
With this in mind, I wish you a reflective pre-Christmas season.
Go for it, go for your goal.
Your Crisis Manager