Last weekend I was trudging through the fields with my kids, trying to follow a dotted line on Google Maps. We go on bike rides and walks through the fields and forests behind our house all the time... a great way for them to burn off energy and for me to get my steps in.

These paths are second nature now.
But in the beginning, I clutched Google Maps like a lifeline.

Left turn, then two rights, cross the clearing and follow the dotted line through the hedges…
Except this time the dotted line didn’t exist anymore. The path was overgrown with brambles the kids couldn’t push through in their shorts.

My “shortcut” turned into a detour or, worse, a U-turn. (If you’ve got kids, you know the pain.) The boys laughed while I tried to explain how the map was wrong.

It reminded me of another trip years ago. Driving the West Coast with my parents, we planned to dip into the Grand Canyon after Las Vegas, then double back to Yosemite and San Francisco. On the map it looked simple, our ultimate North Star being Seattle and trying to see as much of the country as we could.

My parents, used to Belgian distances, thought we could just “go around” and see some more of the country. Hours later, it felt like driving from Brussels to Paris by way of Madrid. We joked about it for days… the Canyon is called “grand” for a reason. But it was time we could have spent better if we had kept in mind what our North Star was.

That’s the problem with maps: they freeze time while the world keeps moving.
Sometimes the path is blocked. Sometimes the distance is bigger than you thought. Sometimes a U-turn is an option. Sometimes you’re locked in for the ride and just have to push through.

Leaders do the same. We draw up 90-day roadmaps, even multi-year plans. The first change request comes in, and suddenly we’re navigating terrain that doesn’t match the drawing. But somehow, the map still becomes the thing we’re held accountable to. Stakeholders don’t want it redrawn because it took so long to agree on… and all of a sudden you have no way to win anymore (and you’re driving around the Grand Canyon with a bus shouting “are we there yet?” for the next eight hours).

When the ground shifts, don’t grip the roadmap tighter.
Pull out your compass instead.
And once the dust settles, redraw the map with what you’ve learned.

That’s what your team really wants to see: not a perfect plan, but a leader who knows how to navigate.