This past week has been discouraging. I’m six months into my job (and in Cleveland), and still I don’t have a clear sense of what I’m supposed to do. Impostor syndrome burrows deeply into the core of partially-legitimate questions about my competence. The familiar, stinging sound of the Peter principle rings in my ears: “We rise only to the level of our incompetence.”

Over coffee this morning with a colleague, I was reminded that I’m not alone in figuring it out. She’s been in her current position a few months more than I and has just recently gotten a sense of what she’s supposed to do and where she’s headed. The words of my dear friend Sarah returned to me from more than a year ago: “None of us know what we’re doing. We’re all just winging it.”

She’s probably right. And, I might add: those who don’t feel they’re winging it are probably just good at lying to themselves. (Or maybe not. No reason to hate on the folks who have it ‘all figured out’.)

Regardless, the winging it narrative is one I plan to keep in my pocket with me today. Using narratives for good rather than creating stories for self-sabotage: I like the sound of that!