My dad and I used to get spectacularly lost driving around Johannesburg. No GPS. Just a folded-up map and his determined conviction that the next turn would somehow be the right one.
It rarely was.
But here’s what I noticed: He’d get us lost, realize it, and eventually start finding our way back. He would even breakdown and stop to ask for help, and that usually saves us.
The founder who refuses to look at the dashboard? Rarely asks for help. Still lost three quarters later.
I work with mid-market founders who’ve built something real. Revenue. Team. Momentum. And then one day, they realize they’re off course. The strategy that got them here isn’t getting them there. The team, which was once tight at twenty people, is fraying at seventy.
They feel lost.
Good.
Because being lost isn’t the problem. Pretending you’re not is.
The founder who admits they’re off track can recalibrate. They can pause, look at the data, and ask the hard questions. They can bring in the methodology, the frameworks, the outside perspective that shows them where “there” actually is.
The leader who insists everything’s fine? They stay lost.
Planes are off course ninety percent of the time. They arrive because they keep correcting. Your company isn’t different. You’re going to drift. The market shifts. Talent changes. Your strategy needs adjusting.
The question isn’t whether you’ll get lost.
It’s whether you’ll admit it soon enough to find your way back.
