Remember those days when a good old-fashioned roadmap was all you needed? A crisp, folded paper promising a clear destination, a few well-marked turns, and the reassuring knowledge of precisely when you’d arrive. 

Our lives, it seems, have few such guarantees. We are wired to crave certainty—a definitive diagnosis from a doctor, a stable number in our bank account, a roadmap for the future that has no unexpected detours or sudden detours.

We yearn to know how it all turns out, to control the narrative, to predict the next chapter before we’ve even finished the current sentence.

For me, one of those profoundly defining moments came with the loss of my boarding facility. It wasn’t merely a business; it was a dream I had meticulously built with my own hands, fueled by passion and years of dedication.

It was a place teeming with life, where every hoofbeat and whinny was a testament to hard work and connection. The signs of economic shift, the whispers of changing tides, were there if I...