While waiting on the tarmac for a recent flight, fog surrounded the plane, dense and quiet, softening everything beyond the window. Water traced faint paths down the glass, distorting the runway lights. From my seat, the world felt still and uncertain, like we were suspended between what’s known and what’s next.

As the plane climbed, small openings began to appear below; patches of earth where the fog had thinned. Then, at 10,000 feet, sunlight broke through. The cabin glowed warm, and below us stretched a soft blanket of clouds. The world hadn’t changed—just the view from where I was sitting.

That moment reminded me of Pixar’s Up, the story of Carl Fredricksen, a widower who lifts his house into the sky with thousands of balloons to chase a long-delayed dream. Along the way, he discovers something unexpected: adventure isn’t just in the destination. It’s found in the people we meet and the perspectives we gain when we allow others to travel beside us.

Change often feels like that foggy morning. It blurs what’s familiar and makes direction hard to see. But clarity returns when we rise through it—sometimes with our own effort, sometimes because someone else helps us lift.

Carl’s story, like so many of our own, reminds us that courage isn’t about controlling the flight path. It’s about showing up for others when visibility is low—steadying them, listening, and helping them find confidence in the climb.

The Courage to Steady Others

In times of change, people need people. Yet it’s easy to get caught in the current, focused on our own deadlines, challenges, or next steps. Courage, in mentorship, often begins with slowing down long enough to notice who around us is struggling to find their footing.

It’s not about having all the answers. Sometimes courage looks like simply being present for someone else’s uncertainty. Offering a word of perspective. Asking, “How can I help?” or “What feels unclear right now?”

In Life Is in the Transitions, Bruce Feiler writes that life isn’t linear—it’s full of pivots, pauses, and reinventions. The best mentors recognize that. They help others steady themselves during those fog-filled stretches, reminding them that forward movement doesn’t always mean speed. Sometimes it just means keeping the plane in the air.

The Curiosity to Navigate the Unknown

Fog forces us to slow down. To focus on what’s visible right now rather than rushing toward what we can’t yet see. That’s where curiosity becomes essential.

Good mentors don’t rush to solve; they ask questions that help others discover their own way through change. Questions like:

• What are you learning about yourself in this transition?
• What difference do you want to make and how might this moment help shape that?
• What might you try differently next time?
  
  

These kinds of questions shift the focus from why this happened to what this situation might make possible. They move us from frustration to reflection.

Curiosity gives others space to think, explore, and rebuild confidence. It’s the difference between giving someone a map and helping them read the terrain.

The Connection That Builds Trust

In seasons of uncertainty, connection becomes the compass. It grounds us, especially when the path ahead is blurred.

Mentors, formal or informal, play a quiet but powerful role in these times. They offer consistency and psychological safety: a check-in message, a conversation that helps sort through next steps, a simple “I’ve been there, too.”

Connection reminds us that we’re not navigating alone. And often, those small acts of presence make the biggest difference. It’s not the title that defines a mentor—it’s the willingness to walk beside someone until they can see clearly again.

Lessons from Up

By the end of Up, Carl learns that holding on too tightly keeps him grounded. When he finally releases his house, the weight of his past dreams, he discovers what truly lifts him: purpose, connection, and the joy of helping someone else find their way.

That’s mentorship. It’s not about fixing or directing. It’s about walking through the fog together, sharing courage when one of you can’t find it, and seeing the world differently because you did.

Clarity doesn’t arrive all at once. It returns in patches, like sunlight breaking through clouds. But with courage, curiosity, and connection, we can help each other keep moving, one visible stretch of sky at a time.