In adolescence, I’d come to an impasse. Same old scene. Same routine. Stagnant.

Fortunately, I was encouraged by parents to pack my bag, pick up a paddle, and take part in a month-long canoe-camping expedition in the Outauouais. Having done a little camping growing up, I was open to the idea. Looking back I can appreciate how much growing up happened for me on that trip.

In a culture that commodifies milestones but is largely bereft of rites of passage, the marked departure from the familiar gave this trip a certain initiatic quality. The days on the water and the nights under the stars were like medicine for the soul.

Prior to going on this expedition, my life had in many ways come to an impasse. I felt scattered, with parts yearning to grow while others clung to old habits. The trip expanded my horizon, both outwardly and inwardly. I found confidence and optimism like I’d never felt before, and thankfully, have carried with me to this day.

The portage, from the French verb porter (to carry), is the act of carrying canoe and equipment around or across an impasse. On a river, this might be a waterfall or a series of rapids. On a lake, it means traversing the distance to the next one. You must hoist the craft that carried you above your head and climb over rocks and stumps, or trudge through thick mud, until at least you reach a clearing and can put everything down again.

Sometimes the path we’ve taken up to now cannot take us any further. Recognizing this, and making the necessary adjustment, is crucial. It’s not always easy. With so much time and effort poured into a particular course of action, it can be quite tempting to deny or delay coming to terms with the obvious when it simply becomes untenable. We pride ourselves in perseverance, but there’s no glory in going headfirst over a waterfall. Sometimes the smartest move is to pick everything up and move on.

This might mean stepping back from a project, away from a relationship, or even turning down a promotion. I hear every so often from people who, upon getting that desired position, realized it was not a good fit. Others may yet resist that realization and come to counselling for ‘strategies’, as though they could force reality to match their expectations, rather than adjust their expectations to reality. It’s ok to pivot, it may even be necessary. Sometimes the things we think we want are standing in the way of what we may truly be seeking.

But walking away is not always easy. There can be a long stretch of uncertainty and self-doubt, such thoughts can come to mind like the buzzing mosquitos on a portage that torment you while your hands are full of gear. There may be a steep uphill climb, made slick from recent rain, or a warning from other campers that a bear is in the vicinity. It can be tough. It can be scary. It won’t last forever.

Soon enough you’ll catch a glimpse of the water, and you might hear the call of the loon. The air feels lighter. You’re almost there.

If you’ve reached a place that’s become unnavigable, perhaps you need to get out of the water and hike a little further downstream before launching again. Perhaps there’s a bigger lake just beyond the brush.

Perhaps you need to pick everything up and portage until you find that next opportunity.