What We Can Trust When Everything Feels Uncertain
There’s a wild rooster that wanders through the neighborhoods where I live. Most of the year, I forget he’s there. But the moment the leaves start to thin and the trees stop muffling sound, his crow emerges again. It breaks through the quiet at dawn and always makes smile.
The rooster crows because the sun rises. Two simple things. Both reliable. Both showing up, day after day, regardless of whatever else is unfolding in the world.
As we prepare to step into a new year—a season when leaders feel a renewed pressure to respond, decide, project, and be ready for anything—where can we look for this kind of steadiness when anxieties are high and everything feels in motion?
Some forms of reliability are external: Leaves falling from the trees. The sun returning on schedule. A rooster signaling a new day. Others come from within us, and they can be the anchors that keep us from being swept up in the winds of change.
Reliable Rocky, watercolor by Ian Mutton
Here are a few ways to reconnect to those sources of reassurance and strength.
Start the day grounded.
When you swing your legs over the edge of the bed, pause. Feel your feet touch the floor. Let that be your first reminder of the day: I’m here. I’m supported. I can choose how I move into this morning.
Recognize that you’ve already made it this far.
Playwright Richard Greenberg wrote, “Nostalgia is simply a longing for a time we know we can survive.” This insight reminds us that we carry proof of our resilience. The past shows we’re capable. The present asks us to trust that.
When uncertainty ramps up, it’s easy to doubt our capacity. But the evidence is right behind you: every challenge you’ve ever faced has been met—maybe not perfectly, but you handled it. Which means you can figure out what comes next.
Take a reflective posture instead of a reactive one.
You don’t have to predict the year ahead. You just have to notice what’s true right now and respond from that place. When you feel yourself slipping into reaction mode, try asking:
What’s actually happening vs. what I am anticipating?
What do I need more information about?
What part of me is being activated—and what part of me can lead?
Reflection slows the spin. It clears some space for intention.
The rooster that comforts me each day is an invitation—to a new day, another chance to decide how I want to show up, a reminder of what’s true, and what I can trust about myself.