power in the pivot
Adaptability is your friend.
One of the things that has always put me in a pickle is rigidity—when my imagination fixates on something, and reality refuses to cooperate. Wanting something so badly (or, honestly, not even that badly), and then something gets in the way.
As they say, "We make plans, and God laughs."
We're not in full control. Things change. Mistakes get made. Forces beyond us exercise their influence. The winds shift.
the vietnam that wasn't
Right now, I'm in the middle of a simple but annoying version of this.
I've been working in Singapore and, with Thanksgiving week coming up, I've been deciding what to do. My initial plan was to go to Vietnam for a week. Hanoi, Ha Long Bay, Cat Ba—renting a motorcycle, riding around, taking footage. I'd already built the movie in my mind. I could see it.
Then I found out I needed a visa.
In fact, I didn't even know a visa was required. It didn't even occur to me to check. And with the way I am, planning in advance is… hard. Last-minute plans are kind of where it's at for me—and this is where that habit bites.
So now I'm here, in Singapore, with a few options:
- I could stay and wait it out. To be fair, I've kind of done everything there is to do here, and I'm hankering to leave.
- Or I can pivot. Go to Thailand. Go somewhere that doesn't require a visa. Do something else entirely.
On paper, this is not a big deal. In my head, it's surprisingly sticky. My mind had already locked onto "Vietnam or bust." There's this small feeling of loss, like something was taken away—even though it was never actually mine.
the tiny grief of changing plans
That's the part that stings: I had already created an image in my mind. I'd built excitement around it. And then, suddenly, it's gone.
It feels like a loss.
But this is exactly where the pivot comes in.
I remind myself:
- There are other options.
- I'm at a point in my life where losing a few hundred dollars is annoying, but survivable.
- Some of that money is just… travel tax.
Call it what you want:
- a learning-curve tax
- a stupidity tax
- a last-minute-planner tax
Whatever the label, it's a way of saying: I'm allowed to be imperfect. I can forgive myself for not knowing how all of this works yet.
And if I really wanted to stick to this plan, I could explore expedited visas or other workarounds. The point isn't that Vietnam is impossible—it's that clinging too tightly causes unnecessary suffering.
luxury problems, real frustration
And yes, I'm fully aware this is a luxurious problem.
"Oh woe is me! I have to change my travel plans from one beautiful, exotic location to another."
It sounds absurd when you put it like that.
But you might be surprised how much these little things can derail your mood. Sudden changes, last-minute problems, bureaucratic surprises—they can create a lot of frustration. They have for me in the past.
What makes the difference is capacity—and willingness—to pivot.
leaping from one failure to the next
A coach of mine has a line I really like. She says her goal is:
"To leap from one failure to the next without any loss of enthusiasm."
The point isn't to seek out failure. The point is that when you're constantly leaping—trying things, exploring options, saying yes to opportunities—you're going to hit walls. Plans will fall through. Visas won't come through. Things won't work out.
That's fine. Just don't lose the enthusiasm.
Get whatever gems you can from the reflection—what did I miss, what can I learn, what will I do differently next time—and then move on as quickly as you can.
Because there isn't much value in wallowing.
the real skill: pivot speed
The faster and more easily you can pivot, the more of life you can actually experience.
Plans will fall apart. Expectations will get disappointed. The version of the trip, the project, the relationship you built in your head will sometimes dissolve.
Adaptability is the skill that lets you say:
"Okay, that no longer works. What can I do now?"
And then actually do it—with as little self-blame, drama, or delay as possible.
So maybe I won't be in Hanoi this week.
But I'll be somewhere. And if I can keep leaping without losing enthusiasm, that might matter more than any single plan ever could.
