I travel quite frequently and when I arrive in a new place I like to get my bearings. I am an early riser so I will often wake up and go out for a run to situate myself in my surroundings. Some places take a few hours to feel the vibe, while others may take even years to fully understand.
In Florence, for example, the city stirs a bit later and you can meander through the mostly pedestrian streets before catching a drift alongside the Arno tracing the entire city in a short amount of time. In New York, the Gotham gridlock is a labyrinth of obstacles. Savvy runners know to head to the park or the rivers as fast as possible or you will otherwise be stuck dodging erratic drivers and errand boys at all hours. Small towns are even better. You not only get the lay of the land but you very quickly see which locals run the show.
Bearings… we spend most of our lives trying to remain in the driver’s seat only for something completely out of our control to throw us for a loop. I recently heard a story of a young man who had just been accepted into HBS. He was to be married and had the summer off to enjoy with his new bride before heading to Cambridge in the fall. One morning he slipped in the shower and went into a coma. In a matter of moments, his world completely changed from having complete control of his bearings to not having them at all. In the words of Amor Towles, this is the “tragic side of chance.”
This begs the question, how much weight should we put on controlling our bearings? A reasonable barometer on your bearings does not mean to be reckless. Just leave some of your life open to chance, good and bad.
Health and happiness are plentiful when they are most plentiful, and the rearview mirror does not but shape a photo album of nostalgia. A sage man once told me, “you can’t change your car’s tires before they are ready to be changed, so you may as well gas all that rubber!”