Economic chaos becomes less volatile once we accept it… and focus on solutions.
In the fall of 2019—just months before the pandemic shut down global travel—my partner and I visited Australia. It was a spectacular, two-week, 2,500-kilometre road journey through Queensland along the Great Barrier Reef.
Australia is stunningly beautiful, but it has a reputation for dangerous wildlife. Sharks that might eat you, spiders that can poison you, snakes that can bite you, jellyfish that will sting you, and crocodiles that can drag you off to a horrible death. And they’re not kidding. Warning signs appear everywhere you go.
But I wasn’t especially worried about any of the wildlife. What terrified me far more was the idea of driving on the left side of the road.
I had visited other countries where this is the norm, but I’d always been a passenger. I had never actually driven a vehicle in those places. The thought of switching sides felt impossible. I tried to prepare by watching YouTube videos and visualizing myself navigating roundabouts and highways, but none of it helped. I feared it would be like trying to write with my left hand: possible, but messy and deeply uncomfortable.
When we picked up the rental car in Brisbane, my partner automatically assumed the driver seat. “So far so good,” I thought.
After four hours, he pulled over, stretched, and handed me the keys. I stared at him—surely he was joking. He wasn’t. “If you think I’m doing all the driving,” he said, “you’d better rethink that.”
And so I had no real choice but to get behind the wheel.
What happened next surprised me. Driving on the left was not nearly as hard as I had imagined. It was unfamiliar, yes, but once I started on a quiet stretch of highway, the adjustment came quickly. Within an hour, it felt almost natural.
That didn’t mean it was effortless. It required my full concentration, all the time. No adjusting the radio, no idly sipping coffee, no staring out the window at the scenery. In fact, we laughed that we were probably safer drivers in Australia than at home, simply because it demanded complete attention.
My fear, in the end, had almost cost me a remarkable experience. I learned something important: adapting begins with letting go of the old environment and accepting the new. I didn’t spend my time in Australia longing for the right side of the road. I accepted the reality in front of me. And once you let go of the past, adapting to what’s ahead becomes far less difficult.
The same principle applies to the economy.
We view the current economic chaos, volatility, and uncertainty the way I thought about driving in Australia. In business, this can create real anxiety, making every shift feel like danger.
But adapting to economic change is usually less intimidating once we stop resisting it. When we acknowledge that the environment has simply evolved, we free ourselves to adjust, learn, and move forward. It takes concentration, focus and grit. But it just might be less difficult than we think.
