What happens when the path ahead isn't clear?
Friday afternoon, Headstone Tunnel on the Monsal Trail. Three of us, gravel bikes underneath us, headlights cutting through half a kilometre of what feels like endless darkness when you can't see the end.
Just the sound of wheels on tarmac and that small circle of light showing us the next few metres.
"Can you see daylight yet?" someone called out behind me.
Not yet. The tunnel curves just enough that when you enter, there's no reassuring pinprick of light at the far end. Just you, your mates, and the faith that this old railway cutting does what it promises – connects one valley to the next.
But here's what struck me as we kept pedalling through those few minutes of uncertainty: we weren't paralysed by not knowing exactly where the end was. We were moving forward anyway, together, trusting that the path would keep revealing itself.
This reminds me of a conversation I had a few days later with a coaching client. A senior leader in a medium-sized business, she said to me about 10 minutes into our discussion:
“I feel like I'm navigating in the dark. The strategic direction keeps shifting. My team's looking to me for clarity I don't have. And honestly I'm not even sure I'm on the right path anymore."
Sound familiar?
Here's what I've learned about leading when you can't see the end: you don't need to illuminate the entire journey. You just need to be clear about the next few steps – and trust that you're not making this journey alone.
In that tunnel, we had three things going for us:
Clear immediate focus (keep the bike moving, stay together)
Shared commitment (we'd all chosen this route)
Trust in the process (tunnels do end, paths do lead somewhere)
What happens when we apply this to leadership?
Instead of feeling paralysed by the unknown strategic landscape, you focus on the clarity you can provide right now. Instead of carrying the weight of all the answers, you acknowledge what you don't know whilst staying committed to the direction you've chosen. Instead of leading in isolation, you remember that you're not the only one navigating uncertainty.
The most effective leaders I work with aren't the ones who pretend to have perfect visibility. They're the ones who can say "I don't know how long this tunnel is, but I know we keep moving forward" whilst creating the conditions for their teams to navigate alongside them.
Here's what this looks like practically:
Be honest about the unknowns – Your team already senses the uncertainty. Naming it creates trust, not anxiety.
Focus on what you can control – The next quarter's priorities, the resources you need, the conversations that matter now.
Share the navigation – The best insights often come from people closer to the ground. Create space for their input.
Keep moving – Perfect information is a luxury you don't have. Good enough information plus decisive action beats paralysis every time.
We emerged from Headstone a few minutes later, laughing about how spooky it had been in there. Just one of those shared moments you get on a good ride.
It was only later, in a conversation with my client, that I remembered that tunnel – and realised something about what had made those few minutes work so well.
If you're leading through your own version of that tunnel right now, you're not alone. And you don't need perfect visibility to keep making progress.
Sometimes the most courageous thing a leader can do is keep pedalling towards the light they can see, trusting that the path will keep revealing itself.
What tunnel are you navigating right now? And who's making that journey with you?
