Design Where You Can. Navigate Where You Must.
- Sharon Ross
- Apr 24
- 3 min read
I'm becoming clearer that not everything I’m part of is mine to shape, but that doesn’t mean I don’t feel the impact of it.
Some situations invite me to step in and adjust, to change the structure so it works better. Others are already set, and my role is different, even if I don’t particularly like the direction they’re moving in.
And I think where it gets tricky is that both can create friction… but for very different reasons.
In my dance classes, the friction showed up as confusion.
The students seemed to be enjoying themselves. The energy in the room felt good. And yet some weren’t coming back... I have seen it before but ...
That didn’t immediately read as a structural issue to me. It felt more like a quiet mismatch I couldn’t quite see yet.
When I had a good look at it, I realized I had been assuming something that wasn’t actually true.
I was teaching with a certain outcome in mind, progression, performance, individual capability. And while that’s something I value, it wasn’t necessarily what every student was coming for.
Some of them were there for something simpler, and honestly, something more immediate. Movement, connection, a good hour in the middle of their week. And if I am completely transparent, my marketing even included that vibe in it, so I was quietly setting that expectation from the start.
Once I could see that clearly, the path forward was obvious.
Not easy, but clear.
I could redesign the structure to match how people were actually showing up, not how I thought they should be showing up.
I am excited to do the work to make that happen.
At my corporate job, it feels different.
There are changes happening around me, things like return-to-office, that I already know I don’t have control over.
I’m not under the illusion that I can redesign that system from where I sit.
And the friction that shows up there isn’t confusion. It’s something closer to resistance.
Not loud, not dramatic, just a steady awareness that the direction being set isn’t one I would have chosen for myself.
Even knowing that, I also know I’ll adapt. I always have.
But that doesn’t mean I don’t feel the tension of it.
And I’ve noticed that part of that tension comes from trying to make sense of something I don’t actually get to decide. I have purposefully looked at other sides of it to cultivate a more supportive view.
What I’m seeing is that these are two different kinds of situations, and they ask for two different kinds of responses.
Some things are mine to design.
Some things are mine to navigate.
And clarity and calm come back when I stop expecting those to behave the same way.
When something is mine to design, the work is to look closely.
To notice where assumptions don’t match reality.
To adjust structure, pacing, expectations.
To shape the experience so it actually fits the people inside it, including me.
That kind of work can feel uncertain at first, but it carries a certain kind of energy with it.
Possibility. Even excitement.
When something is mine to navigate, the work shifts.
To understand what’s actually happening, even if I don’t agree with it.
To reduce unnecessary friction where I can.
To make decisions about how I show up, how much energy I invest, and what I carry versus what I let pass through.
That kind of work doesn’t feel like possibility.
It feels more like steadiness through choice.
And both matter.
Because if I try to navigate something that is actually mine to design, I end up under-using my agency.
And if I try to design something that isn’t mine to change, I end up draining energy into a system that isn’t going to respond.
There’s also something quieter here.
Sometimes the hardest part isn’t knowing which is which.
It’s accepting it.
Accepting that I can’t reshape everything to fit.
Accepting that some environments will require adjustment, even when that adjustment isn’t my preference.
And also accepting that in other places, I have far more influence than I initially realize.
A Gentle Reframe
Not everything you experience is yours to fix or reshape.
But some of it is.
And the more clearly you can tell the difference, the easier it becomes to use your energy where it actually moves something… and to move more cleanly through what doesn’t.
From Reflection to Practice
Understanding an idea is helpful. Experiencing it is even better.
The small practice below is simply an invitation to try that shift.
