The Pondering

This isn't about meditation.
This is about navigating the forest.
The one you enter any time you set out to achieve anything meaningful. The one full of uncertainty, expectations and pressure.

You've entered it before - eyes fixed on the horizon, convinced that forward is the only direction that matters.

Let's say you're hiking through this forrest today. Your goal? Reach the other side. Simple enough.
You start strong, crossing creeks, climbing hills. A few hours pass. You're moving. The sunset looks beautifull. Wait, sunset? You pause. No one told you how long this would take. Your water bottle is nearly empty. The path ahead vanishes into shadows. Anxiety creeps in: What if forward isn't enough?

You could:

Keep moving forward - trusting momentum to save you.
Turn back - abandoning progress for safety.
Climb the big tree - sacrificing escape time, trying to see the edge of the forrest.

But here's the catch: every choice is a gamble.

If you keep moving forward - you survive the night. Dawn finds you weaker, slower, still lost.
If you turn back - you escape the forest, but guilt remains. Did I quit too soon?
If you climb up - you catch a glimpse of civilization. East, not north. You were moving the wrong direction.

Pondering isn't procrastination. It's the antidote to blind motion.

That creek wasn't just an obstacle, it was a resource. That hill wasn't just a climb, it was a view point. Yet you sprinted pass both, chasing the imaginary finish line.

We're taught to glorify the "hustle", keep busy, but rarely taught to pause:

Ponder at the creek - refill your water
Ponder on the hill - realign your compas
Ponder at sunset - build a fire

This isn't about journaling or breathwork. It's not about "spending time off" or work-life balance either. It's about intentionality. A pause to ask: does this action serve the mission, or just my illusion of progress?

The Illusion of Progress

You did everything right. You kept moving. Crossed creeks, hills, covered all this terrain, you tell yourself. But the forrest doesn't care about your sweat. It only asks: Arey you closer to the edge, or just deeper in?

Progress isn't measured in footsteps.

The trap of "Productive" Pauses

You've been told to "take breaks". You stop hiking, yes, but instead of pondering you:

Forage berries (read books)
Follow animal tracks (scroll social media feeds)
Study bird calls (network)

Even your pauses become performance. You've swapped motion for motion, when you needed clarity, not activity.

True pondering is the opposite of hustle. No tea, no journal, no insights to post later. Just sitting on the moss, letting the map in your mind redraw itself.

The double edged axe

Don't let pondering become its own trap.
You might study your map so obsessively you forget to walk.

Rules of pondering:

Look ahead, not behind
Ask what you need to do, not what you should have done
Act with 70% certainty, not 100%

Why this story? Why trees?

Because you're already in the forrest.

You opened this piece thinking "I'll skim this, then get back to work." But if you're here, there is something in your life you've related this to. It doesn't matter what it is and whether that is what I was thinking about when writing this. It is up to you to decipher what it means to you. The trees don't care.

The final rule

Everything you do in this forest can be either fog or fuel. Your job isn't to judge past choices, but to notce current ones and be mindful of which category the fall into. Even reading these words.