What Search & Rescue Taught Me About Being Lost
Before I did this work, I spent years on search and rescue teams. We'd get called out when someone went missing in the backcountry—hikers who took a wrong turn, hunters who got disoriented, kids who wandered away from camp.
I've spent a lot of time thinking about what it means to be lost, and I've come to believe that being lost in life follows the same patterns as being lost in the wilderness.
The Stages of Being Lost
There's a model in SAR called the "lost person behavior" framework. People who are physically lost typically go through predictable stages:
1. Denial: "I'm not really lost. I'll recognize something soon." 2. Panic: "Oh god, I'm lost. I need to move. NOW." 3. Exhaustion: "I've been going for hours. Nothing is working." 4. Surrender: "I don't know where I am. I need to stop and think."
Sound familiar?
When people come to me feeling lost in their careers, relationships, or sense of self, they're usually somewhere in this progression. The ones who reach out tend to be past denial but often still in panic—trying everything, running in circles, hoping frantic motion will solve the problem.
The STOP Protocol
In wilderness survival, we teach something called STOP:
- •**S**it down
- •**T**hink
- •**O**bserve
- •**P**lan
The hardest part is always the first letter. When you're lost and scared, sitting down feels like giving up. Your body screams at you to move, do something, anything. But movement without direction just gets you more lost.
I think of our work together as creating the conditions for STOP. Space to sit with what's true. Support for the thinking. Tools for observation. Partnership in planning.
What Lost People Need
In search and rescue, here's what we know about finding people:
- •They usually aren't as far from the path as they think
- •They often have the resources they need but can't see them
- •Panic makes the situation worse, not better
- •The way out is usually through reorientation, not speed
The parallel to life transitions is almost too obvious. You're probably not as lost as you feel. You have more resources than you realize. Your frantic motion might be taking you further from where you want to be. And the answer isn't to go faster—it's to get oriented.
Coming Home
Here's what I learned from all those searches: people who are lost aren't missing. They're just temporarily disconnected from their known world. The path back home exists—they just can't see it yet.
That's true in the wilderness. It's true in life.
My job, then and now, is to help people stop running, get their bearings, and find their way back to familiar ground. Not to carry them out—but to remind them they know how to walk.
You're not as lost as you think. The path home is closer than it appears.