Hard decisions often begin with a feeling. A tightness in the chest. A pause we can’t rush past. The awareness that something important is asking for our attention. The work begins there, in the noticing. In letting what’s present be real.

Then comes the choosing. It might not feel brave in the moment, but it settles in afterwards. The kind of choice that brings a steadiness that we recognize only once we’ve begun moving. It’s a choice to protect our future, even when it asks something from us right now.

As Oprah Winfrey and Arthur Brooks put it, “Feel the feel, then take the wheel.”

In the song, The Cape, by Guy Clark, a child ties on a simple cape, climbs onto the roof of the garage, and jumps. Seems like an ordinary moment, but one line lingers: “spread your arms and hold your breath, and always trust your cape.”

The cape is what we’ve built over time: lived experience, trusted people, preparation, care. The quiet confidence that, while we cannot control the outcome, we take a leap of faith and go after life, even when we can’t be sure we’ll fly.

Pause. Listen. Choose.

Then move forward and trust your cape.

That’s how we do hard things.