How Do We Navigate Ambiguity?

This is probably one of the most important questions a leader needs to answer right now. The challenge of how to navigate ambiguity is not going away. Instead, it is continuing to expand, and to generate a high degree of complexity. 

As we explore this question in more depth, we need to start with a definition of the word, ambiguity. The dictionary tells us that it is “the quality of being open to more than one interpretation”. It also states that it is “something unclear that can be understood in more than one way.” For example, it’s when a word, phrase, or situation has multiple possible meanings, creating uncertainty about the true intention or message. 

One form of ambiguity is moral ambiguity, which can be described as an ethical dilemma, a grey area, or a point of moral complexity. It is situation where it is difficult to determine what is the right or wrong path to choose. 

In the business world, ambiguity refers to a situation in which it is difficult to make decisions or predictions due to a lack of, or conflicting information. In the world of leadership, this often translates into strategic ambiguity or strategic uncertainty, namely a situation where it is difficult to discern which is the right path to take given the lack of, or conflicting information. 

In times of ambiguity, Kevin Cashman in his book, The Pause Principle: Step Back to Lead Forward (Berrett-Koehler, 2012), writes “All too often, we allow ourselves to be carried away by our busy-ness. We are too hyperactive, too reactive to even notice the hidden value-creating dynamics waiting just under the surface within us and around us. Tethered to our smartphones, we are too caught up and distracted to take the time necessary to sort through complexity or to locate submerged purpose. In our urgent rush to get ‘there,’ we are going everywhere but being nowhere. Far too busy managing with transitive speed, we rarely step back to lead with transformative significance.”

Cashman also reminds us of the Second Law of Thermodynamics: As activity lessens, order increases. Therefore, he recommends we activate The Pause Principle, which “is the conscious, intentional process of stepping back, within ourselves and outside ourselves, to lead forward with greater authenticity, purpose, and contribution.” As he continues, “The greater the complexity, the deeper the reflective pause required to convert the complex and ambiguous to the clear and meaningful. Pause helps us to move from the transitive or hyperactive to the transformative.”

Margaret Wheatley understands this perspective when she wrote, “Thinking is the place where intelligent actions begin. We pause long enough to look more carefully at a situation, to see more of its character, to think about why it’s happening, to notice how it’s affecting us and others.” 

From my experience and observations, effective leaders pause and hold ambiguity in dialogue. This choice makes a profound difference on many levels within the leader and the organization. But to grasp this choice, we need to unpack the word dialogue and understand it’s meaning in greater detail. 

Dialogue originates from the Greek word dialogs, which is the combination of dia meaning “through or between,” and logos meaning “word or speech.” It literally means a flow of meaning through or between words and people. Next, there are two types of dialogue, namely the outer form between two or more people, and the inner dialogue with oneself. Both forms of dialogue revolve around discovering a flow of meaning, i.e. an on-going and ever-evolving understanding of meaning and clarity. 

When effective leaders pause and hold ambiguity in dialogue, I am reminded of the late Stephen Covey and his book, The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People (Free Press, 1989). In it, Covey explains the choice between focusing on the circle of concern vs. the circle of influence. The circle of concern included everything that concerned an individual, even if they had little or no control over it. The circle of influence, on the other hand, encompassed all the things one could directly influence or impact, even if they did not have complete control. Covey advocated for the reader to shift their focus from their circle of concern to their circle of influence in order to take steps that could make a positive difference in their life and in the lives of others. 

Upon reflection, during times of ambiguity and uncertainty, I think we first need to focus on creating, and then being in a circle of reflection and dialogue before we focus on our circle of influence. The goal is to start from a place of meaning and clarity before action rather than to attempt, and hope to discover clarity and meaning only through action. 

Within this unique circle, we need to pause and look at things, issues, or problems from multiple angles and various perspectives. We also need to seek out the wise counsel of others, and to listen deeply to their insights, lessons learned, and perspective. For it is the combination of reflection and dialogue that will lead us to actions that are mission-driven, vision-led, and values-based.

Given the current lack of information, and/or conflicting information plus the ongoing uncertainty about the intentions of others, near and far, ambiguity and uncertainty will continue to create dynamic complexity. Our choice as leaders is to remember and pause, reflect, and dialogue, internally and externally, in order to make thoughtful choices rather than reactive choices. As Lisa Miller, PhD writes, “… outward goals are no substitute for larger meaning and purpose.” And now is the time to discover or recover larger meaning and purpose, internally and externally, in order to navigate well through ambiguity. 

© Geery Howe 2026

Geery Howe, M.A. Executive Coach in Leadership, Strategic Planning, and Organizational Change

Be Grateful For The Ordinary

Early in my career as a consultant, trainer and executive coach, I spent a lot of time teaching nursing continuing education classes on the subject of how to teach patients stress management techniques as part of their healing and recovery process. These six hour workshops were in-depth, and involved listening and sharing by all the participants.

One afternoon when talking about how to help patients maintain perspective during challenging times, one of the nurses shared the following story. As she explained, “I am a night nurse on a medical surgical floor. It is long hours and lots of work. Some nights are quiet and other nights it is crazy.

On this particular shift, it was one of those wildly crazy nights with all the call lights flashing. We were running hither and yon to keep up with everything. It also was my last shift of a multi-day cycle of being on duty, and I was tired, worn to the core, and feeling overworked.

I rushed into this room, flicked off the call light and asked the patient what she needed. She just looked at me, paused for a moment, and said, ‘Are you having a bad day?’

I looked at her. She looked at me. And I just unloaded all my frustrations. I shared about my work, the kids, my marriage, my in-laws, life on the farm, and the weather. It just all came tumbling out of me. I was embarrassed.

She listened well, and then replied, ‘Let’s switch. You can have my breast cancer. I’d give anything to go home tonight to my family, and to my baby. I would wash a bucket of poppy diapers with a smile on my face just to be home tonight. It’s really all about perspective.’

She was 100% correct. Then, I helped her with her bed pan and thanked her for teaching me what was most important.”

There are days when we get so busy that we forget to be more grateful for the ordinary moments of life. Instead, we believe “busy” is the new definition of success. People wear it as a badge of honor, and frame it up as a new status symbol. I am busy and thus I am successful.

We get caught in this trap because we are trying to fix everything around us. We also get busy because we are trying to control everything and everyone around us. It’s all about keep everything and everyone under control. The upshot of which is that we get so busy that we end up numb to life’s miracles. In short, we have lost our gratefulness for the ordinary moments.

On the days that our lives are spinning out of control with sickness, pain, divorce, or loss, we pray for miracles. We pray for it all to go back to “normal”. In short, we pray for the ordinary, namely the chance to get up, eat breakfast, and go to work without pain, without sorrow, and without fear or confusion. 

We are not really seeking perfection. We are seeking the intersection between happiness and meaning. As Dr. Marshall Goldsmith and Dr. Kelly Goldsmith wrote, “In determining a personal mission, you need to make sure that you take into account both happiness and meaning. By happiness we are referring to your personal enjoyment of the process itself, not just the results. In other words, at the high end of the scale, you love what you are doing. By meaning we are referring to the value that you attribute to the results of your work. At the high end of the scale, you deeply believe that the outcome of what you are doing is important.” 

As they continue, “Maximize the amount of time that you are experiencing simultaneous happiness and meaning.” When we are grateful for the ordinary, we open up the opportunity to experience an intersection between happiness and meaning. We also remember to be kind to everyone, because each of us are doing the best we can with the tools we have.

© Geery Howe 2026

Geery Howe, M.A. Executive Coach in Leadership, Strategic Planning, and Organizational Change

Battling With A Ground Hog

Some days we think we are doing just fine until we run into a problem that stumps us. For me, it was a ground hog trying to make a home under our front porch one year as winter approached. I first noticed that we had a problem when I saw that something had chewed through the lattice along side of our porch steps. So I went to the lumber yard and purchased a fresh sheet of lattice, cut it to the right size, and installed it.

The next day I discovered that the “new” lattice was chewed through. Now, I went to the garden center and purchased a variety of repellants in powder and spray form to stop what ever was chewing on our house. I also went back to the lumber yard and purchased more lattice.

This became a recurring problem. More chewing so I applied more repellant. Then, it was purchasing more “new” lattice. Finally, after a couple of cycles, I covered it all in chicken wire.

The next morning I discovered that what ever was chewing on our house had chewed through the chicken wire too. I was flummoxed. So, I found a neighbor with a trap and put it beside the worst part of the damage. 

I also started asking people for advice. A farmer recommended I use an anhydrous tank to solve the problem. Someone else said I should use the exhaust from a car to solve the problem. One person suggested I purchase coyote urine or use my own to solve the problem. I wasn’t open to any of these solutions.

The problem continued so I hired a “critter removal” service. They installed a bigger trap and we caught a squirrel. Next, we caught a skunk, but the critter removal service told me that my real problem was a ground hog who was looking for a place to make it’s home for winter. 

The spot under our porch must have been the best place. It also must have been a very smart ground hog with a PhD, because we never caught it in the trap. Instead, I went out one morning and discovered a massive hole in the ground.

By now, I was one mad homeowner. I’d had it with this problem, and just wanted to finish it “once and for all.” So, I got on my work clothes, a hat, headlamp, dust mask, knee pads, a trash can lid and a pointy stick. Then, I removed all the lattice and chicken wire and crawled under our porch. On one level, I was checking to make sure I did not trap the groundhog under the porch once I made the final repairs. I also think my inner, cave man brain had kicked in, and I just wanted to have it out with the beast.

There I was all hunched over under the porch when I began to think again. “What are you doing?”, I asked myself. “This is the dumbest idea you’ve had in quite some time.” Quietly, I crawled out from under the front porch, and then sat on the front porch steps. I needed space for reflection. Previously, I had not given myself permission to take the time to do this.

Slowly, a new solution came to me. First, I had to think like a groundhog. I did not need chicken wire because I wasn’t dealing with a chicken. Instead, I purchased industrial grade hardware cloth and, of course more lattice. 

Next, I installed the hardware cloth first, then the new lattice and finally more hardware cloth. I also dug the hardware cloth into the ground one inch deep and out for two feet. It looked great.

The following morning I discover one more big hole. Unbeknownst to me, the ground hog had been asleep under the porch when I had crawled in. Lucky I got out when I did!

As I stood looking at the massive exit hole, another neighbor walked over, and saw me staring at the hole. “You want to stop that from happening?”, he asked me.

“Yes”, I replied.

“Drop some old rocks and junk in that tunnel. Then pour in my old bag of powdered concrete. Add a gallon of water. Cover it up with an inch of dirt and in a couple of hours you will have one big massive concrete plug. There is no way they can dig through concrete.” So, I followed his advice and created a large “concrete plug.” I have never had a problem since that day.

On that cool fall day, I learned two important lessons. First, I needed to ask more people for advice. I also need to role model “intellectual humility”, a term Ryan Holiday talks about in his book, Stillness Is The Key (Portfolio/Penguin, 2019).

The second lesson I learned was that I did not need to rush to a solution. Reflection is a powerful first step to finding a solution. As John Paul Lederach wrote in his book, The Moral Imagination: The Art and Soul of Building Peace (Oxford University Press, 2005): “When overwhelmed by complexity,” the haiku master said, “seek the elegant essence that holds it all together.” For me that day, it was a massive concrete plug.

When complexity enters our lives, I encourage all of us to schedule more time for reflection, to role model intellectual humility, and to seek the elegant essence that holds it all together.

© Geery Howe 2026

Geery Howe, M.A. Executive Coach in Leadership, Strategic Planning, and Organizational Change

Embrace The Journey

Shortly after I self-published The Map Is Not The Road booklet, I shared a copy with my dear mother-in-law. When she finished reading it, we visited, and she told me that the stroke she had in 2015 was her “flat tire experience.” As she explained, “from there on, I have been in a new country. Choices reduced and experiences reframed…. I’ve entered a new state. New road signs, new map-makers, yet all the maps of the past are still in the glove compartment, for references when needed.”

I’ve had my own flat tire experiences in life’s journey. Some are private and others are personal. A few of them were professional. For example, I remember the day when nearly a year and a half’s worth of work was canceled because one corporation was purchased by a larger corporation and they no longer wanted to provide on-going leadership training. Another time, after partnering, designing and presenting leadership training for a few years, a different company decided to move the entire process internal, and I lost this major contract. Each time, I wondered what would happen next and how the business would move forward. And each time, I learned some important lessons. 

First, I learned that to embrace the journey is to respect the journey. I had to be willing to move forward and accept the path before me, not passively but actively embrace it. I needed to engage with the journey, not in denial, but with eye’s wide open. As Brene’ Brown says, “To embrace the suck.”

As part of this embracing the journey, I needed to be willing to experience the moments of unknowing and still move forward. As Martin Luther King, Jr. once said, “Faith is taking the first steps even when you don’t see the full staircase.”

Second, I learned another important lesson. Years ago during a Fall Roundtable, Christina Smith, CEO of Community Support Advocate, shared that “our sacrifices must reflect our priorities”. To embrace the journey is to have the courage to begin something that you do not know how it will end. Having the courage to dream and dream big is what most people think is the challenge, but for me the real challenge is to start the journey without fully knowing what will happen during the journey. It is to commit to one’s priorities and to recognize that I may not fully know the outcome or the destination. Yet, I am willing to commit to the journey because I know what is most important. As the old Irish proverb reminds us, “a good beginning is half the journey.”

Third, to embrace the journey is to be humble and recognize that we stand on the shoulders of others, namely our mothers, fathers, teachers, and mentors. These people loved us and encouraged us in spite of their challenges, and in spite of our own challenges. As Linda Hogan, a Native American Chickasaw, wrote “You are the result of the love of thousands.” For when we have the courage to embrace the journey, and are humble in the process, we will open doors, open minds, and open hearts. And the results will be transformative for all involved

© Geery Howe 2026

Geery Howe, M.A. Executive Coach in Leadership, Strategic Planning, and Organizational Change

Know the Inner Journey, Not Just The Outer Pathway

Many decades ago when I was a high school history teacher, my wife and I attended a workshop for teachers hosted by one of the area educational agencies (AEAs) in Iowa.  This workshop was a multi-day event being taught by a Chinese Tai Ji master named Chungliang Al Huang. He used a wide range of tools to inspire his students: brush calligraphy, music, poetry, mythic story telling, and more. Fundamental to his work were the Five Elements, Tao Te Ching, I-Ching, and other classics in Taoist, Zen Buddhist, and Confucian studies. This approach allowed students to quickly experience the joys of Tai Ji energy flow along with the deeper sensations of stillness in motion.

Every day during the workshop, we did movement work and listened to lectures, plus participated in small group sharing about teaching and learning. During a break, he approached my wife and I, said “You two are very good at this. You should come to my international teaching workshop in Urbana, Illinois in February.”

So, once school started up again, I asked the principal and he said “yes.” I was stunned that he would consider the invitation. But when February rolled around, we drove to Urbana and met people from all over the world. We spent a week in intensive study and learning. And once home, we started teaching weekend workshops. Then, we taught regular Monday night classes for many years.

During our in-depth teacher training sessions, Chungliang would talk about not just doing the form on the outside as much on the inside. As he often reminded us, “the outer action should reflect the inner action.” It was powerful insight.

People who have known me over a long period of time will often ask me if I still practice the form. I respond with a “yes but not the outward form much. Now, I am trying to “be” the form more than “do” the form.

In this stage of my life, I focus on flow, on alignment, and on breath. I seek to find the stillness in the motion. Some days, I am better at it than others, but I keep being aware of my “practice” as I move through my days.

There is one person I know who I believe did align his inner and outer actions, namely my late father in-law. He was born on the farm, and he lived his entire life there accept for the last year or so of his life. He embraced attuning to others, discernment, listening, and sharing.

I think of him often in the morning. When our children were quite young, we routinely visited my in-laws on the farm. On these special weekends, our oldest son, Ryan, would get up very early, get all dressed by himself, and sit on the steps, waiting for his grandfather to come out of his bedroom for morning chores. After a quiet greeting, my father-in-law would put on his green coveralls and his work boots. Next, depending on the season, he would help his grandson bundle up in his winter coat, hat and mittens. Then, together they would walk to the barns to chore. In the early years, this was to feed the cattle. Latter in life, it was to feed the cats and check on wood working projects in his shop in the barn

With his grand children, my father-in-law always took off his right glove and walked “hand in hand” to the barn. Those were soft and leathery hands. They reflected the life of someone who had worked his entire life outdoors.

In December, I think of him and the Winter solstice. He shared with me that on the Winter and the Summer solstice, he would stop on his way back from the barn and watch the sunrise. Twice a year, it would rise right in the middle of the gravel road. And he would watch it rise before heading in for breakfast. Later after the evening chores, he would again stop by the side of the gravel road and watch it set.

One December afternoon, when I was a younger man, we watched the sun set together. There was no talking; we just watched it slowly sink below the western horizon. As we walked back to the house, he quietly said to me, “Now we begin turning to the light.”

This was a man who knew about the unity of the inner form and the outer form. He was a student of integration. He embraced this journey.

From him and others, I have learned that we are all in this together. As Rumi wrote, “We’re all just walking each other home.” The finest people I know grasp this perspective and embrace it. They are the role models of integrated living and working. And I, for one, am most grateful for the impact they have had in my life.

© Geery Howe 2026

Geery Howe, M.A. Executive Coach in Leadership, Strategic Planning, and Organizational Change

Rethink The Idea of Time

There have only been a few periods in my life when time was not a defining characteristic of what was happening within and around me. At those moments, I was not aware of what day of the week it was nor was I focused on the clock and what was coming up next. For me, they were those most special, 100% now moments.

For example, the few days after our first child was born, I didn’t know what day of the week it was, nor did I care. The only thing I noticed was sun rises and sun sets. To this day, I specifically remember the moment I spent laying on the couch with our new born son on my chest, watching the sun rise and touch the entire world outside our living room window. It was so peaceful and so awe inspiring.

The longest periods in my life where “time stopped” happened over the course of four summers. During my college years, I was a summer camp counselor in Vermont. It was more than a job for me. It was a community where I could do “deep battery” recharge after another year of higher education.

The camp was a 100% off the grid experience. We taught simple outdoor living with a focus on wood craft skills, camping skills, crafts, trips, and adventure. Each year, the camp was created in a clearing in the woods. There were no flash lights, watches, clocks, or matches. We lived life by sun rises and sun sets with regular meals defining the day.

During this period of my life, I got very good at telling the time by the sun. I asked everyone who visited, and who wore a watch to cover it up with their hand. Then, I would look up at the sun and guess the time. Often, I often within 10 - 15 minutes. Sometimes, I was spot on.

At the start of every summer, we would light one fire that would last all summer. We started it with a bow and drill. Then, when we went hiking, we often would carry coals from this first fire. Sometimes, we carried a bow & drill as a back up. I liked carrying smoldering coals in a tin can, because the smoke kept the black flies and mosquitos away. And it looked cool.

What made the work at this summer camp experience so powerful for me was that I had found myself, my team, namely the other counselors, and my community. We actively supported each other and encouraged each other to try out new activities. When difficult issues surfaced related camper behavior or when challenging differences of perspective happened between counselors, we came together and committed the time and energy to work through them. In short, there was an “I” but there was an even stronger “we”. The “we” was what made the work so powerful. We were changing lives, and we were trying to make each day a meaningful day for all involved. 

Upon reflection, I think we experience time as a source of pressure. But, when we experience a good and meaningful day, we find the world to be dynamic, connected, and personal.

When I look at the bigger picture, the road ahead is complex. On one level, there will always be big issues and complex challenges. This is normal part of  living and learning. However, with the support of healthy relationships and a healthy community, we can experience a meaningful day at work and at home. A caring community is not bound by time or place.

As Robert Cooper wrote in his book, The Other 90%: How to Unlock Your Vast Untapped Potential For Leadership & Life (Crown Business, 2001), “We all warm ourselves by fires we did not build and drink from wells we did not dig.” If we seek to rethink time, then we need to care for the fires by which we warm ourselves, and to care for the wells we did not dig. And at the exact same time we must build new fires and dig a new wells. Because in the end, these are the experiences we will remember and these are the stories we will tell others. These are the 100% now moments that make all the difference in our life journey.

© Geery Howe 2026

Geery Howe, M.A. Executive Coach in Leadership, Strategic Planning, and Organizational Change