Last week my husband and I went on our first cruise in more than six years.

My husband Chuck hates to travel, but he loves cruising.

Since we live in Florida, there’s no flying required and he loves that we can just walk on the ship, settle in for the week, and have everything taken care of. There’s no need to make a plan or try to figure out where to go and what to see or where to eat. It’s all just done for you. For him, it’s the ultimate vacation.

So when my sister and her husband asked if we wanted to join them for a week in the Caribbean, he immediately said yes.

I, on the other hand, was a little more hesitant.

Because while I do love my sister, I don’t particularly love cruising.

I get claustrophobic, to the point where by the last day, I usually feel like I’m going to crawl out of my skin if I have to spend one more second trapped on a ship. It’s a combination of too much confinement and too much free time for a Type-A girl like me, one who can never sit still, who’s always got a plan and a list of things to get done.

If you’re that way too, you understand it’s not a personality trait you can just turn off.

Believe me, my husband has tried. Many times.

And I don’t really blame him.

Because that same personality that has allowed me to get things done can be a lot to live with. His more laid back approach to life doesn’t always match my energy and relentless drive.

Case in point—the first morning of this most recent cruise, I woke up at 4am with an overwhelming sense of panic that I had nothing to do. I should’ve felt relieved, but all I felt was dread.

Not wanting to wake up Chuck, I tried to quietly entertain myself. I caught up on all the latest news. I scrolled through Instagram. I reviewed the ship’s itinerary and made a note of all the activities we might want to do that day. Every minute felt like an hour.

Finally, at 6am the coffee bar opened, and by the time I came back up to our shoebox-sized cabin, there was enough daylight to start unpacking.

By the time Chuck woke up, half an hour later, I was practically a crazy person.

“Honey, what are you doing?”

Three hours of anxiety-ridden silence instantly came streaming out in one jumbled mess: “I’m unpacking. I already unpacked your stuff. I gotta get this room clean. It’s making me crazy. Why did we bring so much stuff? Where are we going to put it all? I can’t live like this for a week. Can you put the suitcases under the bed? I got you coffee. It’s probably cold by now. Do you want me to go get you more? I made us a plan for the day. Do you think it’s too early to message my sister? I wonder if she wants to work out. Did you sleep okay?”

Thankfully, after 20 years of marriage, my husband knows me very well.

He just looked at me and laughed. “Are you done?”

I nodded solemnly. “I think so.”

“Come sit with me and drink your coffee. It’s going to be okay.”

He was right, of course.

After that first morning freakout, I actually managed to calm down. Relax, even.

We had the best time connecting with my sister and her husband. We took naps. We laid in the sun. We ate and drank and danced and laughed.

And it was good.

Back in January, I recorded a podcast sharing my goals for the year, which are vastly different from any goals I’ve ever set for myself.  I explained how over the past year, I’ve felt called to do less, not more, and how the word I’ve chosen for the year is RESTORE.

I’ve never been scared of setting big goals for myself. I’ve gone to law school. I’ve built businesses. I’ve written books. I’ve been on TV. I’ve given a TED talk. I’ve lost 49 pounds and kept it off.

Achieving is what I know.

But THIS goal—the goal to actually do LESS, to let go of control, to be still and listen more, and to NOT achieve—this goal actually scares the crap out of me.

It’s a leap of faith I’ve never taken before. 

The path forward feels so unclear, and so unknown. Nothing feels certain.

What if my doing less means that my business fails? What do I do then?

What if at the end of all this restoration, I don’t like what I find?

What if letting go means losing everything I have?

Tony Robbins once said, “the quality of your life is in direct proportion to the amount of uncertainty you can comfortably deal with.” Along those same lines, Mark Batterson wrote “embrace relational uncertainty. It’s called romance. Embrace spiritual uncertainty. It’s called mystery. Embrace occupational uncertainty. It’s called destiny. Embrace emotional uncertainty. It’s called joy. Embrace intellectual uncertainty. It’s called revelation.” 

In other words?  Sometimes the hardest thing you’ll ever have to do is let go of control.

But the real test of growth in your life is your willingness to do the thing that feels totally uncomfortable.

And so, my challenge for you—and for myself—this week, is to embrace the inherent uncertainty of wherever you’re at in life right now. Whether it’s your business, or your health, or your job, or just a world in general that seems to be changing at the speed of light right now, try to let go of your need or desire to control the outcome, and just let it unfold.

Because sometimes there’s beauty in not knowing.

Live with purpose, friend, and have a joy-filled week!

xoxo, Ruth

This week’s podcast episode…

What’s cooking in my kitchen…

Here’s the recipe I shared last week:

The latest from my Instagram…

Instagram is my jam! If you’re there too, I’d love to connect with you—find me at @RuthSoukup or @ruthsoukupbiz for online business tips!

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