For as long as I can remember, my mom has said the same thing whenever life starts to feel too heavy:
“Just do the next right thing.”
It’s a simple phrase, but it sticks with me.
When everything around me feels like it’s moving too fast, when deadlines pile up, decisions loom, and the future feels uncertain, I remember those words.
It means I don’t have to have it all figured out. I just need to take one step forward.
Like walking a winding path through a foggy forest, I don’t need to see the entire trail ahead, I just need to see where to put my foot next.
Originally, this phrase was used to help people to process grief, to ground them during overwhelming loss. When it feels like the world is crashing down around you, “the next right thing” becomes a lifeline.
But now, as I finish my junior year and look ahead to senior year, the phrase has taken on a new meaning for me.
I feel like I’m standing at the edge of a massive crossroads.
Which college should I apply to? What should I major in? Will I find a job I love? What kind of life am I supposed to build?
Questions come fast, one after another, like traffic speeding passed a busy road.
Sometimes it feels like everyone else already knows which path they’re taking, while I’m still staring at the map, unsure where to begin.
The pressure is real.
College visits. Test scores. Applications. Recommendation letters. Resumes. Essays.
The road ahead feels crowded and confusing, but that’s when I try to quiet the noise.
I remind myself of the one thing I can control: the next step.
It doesn’t have to be the final decision. It just has to be the right one for right now.
Maybe that means reaching out to a teacher for advice, researching a school I’ve never considered, or taking a moment to rest and reset.
Each small choice is a step on the path.
Some steps will lead to new trails I didn’t expect. Others might loop back or hit a dead end. That’s okay.
The point isn’t to know exactly where I am going, it’s to keep moving.
To grow. To explore. To trust that the path will take shape as I go.
And yes, it is scary at times, but I think that’s a part of it.
Every senior I’ve talked to says the same thing: you figure it out along the way.
No one really has it all together. They just learned to walk forward, even when the road was uncertain.
So maybe it’s okay that I don’t have my whole life mapped out yet, maybe all I need to do is keep putting one foot in front of the other.
Because when the path seems unclear, and the pressure starts to build, I know what my mom would say.
Just do the next right thing.
