In 2016, my world was a swimming pool and a water polo ball. Then a diagnosis hit, and the pool felt miles away.
Life often confronts us with external shocks — events we didn’t ask for and cannot change.As in my example a cancer diagnosis. Maybe for you it is a business deal that collapses after six months of hard work.Or an injury that pulls you off the starting line of a race you’ve trained for for years.
The first reaction is shock. And that’s normal.It’s brutal. It hurts. It throws you off balance.
The real danger, however, isn’t the event itself — it’s the negative spiral that follows. When we fixate on what we can’t control, we slowly give away our power. Our attention narrows, and soon we can only see what’s wrong.
You know this effect.
When you’re about to buy a red car, suddenly the streets are full of red cars.When you’re expecting a child, you start seeing pregnant women everywhere.
The same mechanism applies in crisis. When we focus exclusively on our diagnosis, the failed project, or the missed season, our brain starts filtering reality accordingly. Everything reinforces the negative.
Locus of Control
During my cancer therapy I have met an old man – around 80 years. He told me that the doctors have given him only two more months to live. His cancer was so aggressive and in an advanced stage that they couldn´t do much.
But he explained that this was 2 years ago! He had one goal: to walk his daughter down the aisle at her wedding. That “Internal Locus” – the decision that he still had a say in his timeline – kept him alive two years past his ‘expiration date. Unbelievable! He made that possible.
In 1954, psychologist Julian B. Rotter introduced the concept of Locus of Control – a core belief system that shapes how we interpret causality and agency. At its heart, it answers a simple but powerful question:
Do I believe my actions influence outcomes – or do I believe outcomes are mainly determined by external forces?
There are two primary orientations:
External locus of controlPeople with an external locus of control attribute outcomes to luck, fate, powerful others, or circumstances. This mindset is linked to reduced self-efficacy and, in prolonged stress situations, can lead to learned helplessness. When effort feels meaningless, motivation fades – and disengagement follows.
Internal locus of controlPeople with an internal locus of control believe their actions, decisions, and effort matter.“I trained consistently; therefore, I can swim the kilometer.”Research consistently links this orientation to higher persistence, greater frustration tolerance, and more adaptive coping strategies – because behavior is seen as something that can be adjusted to influence results.
Why 5% Becomes 100%
In extreme situations – whether facing a cancer diagnosis or reaching when you shoulders scream “Stop” at kilometer 40 in Lake Constance (but you still have 25 to swim) – locus of control stops being a theory. It becomes a survival tool.
When I received my diagnosis in 2016, I couldn’t “wish away” the tumor. Believing I could would have been a toxic form of internal control – an illusion of omnipotence that ignores biological reality.
But I could control the system around the illness:
my nutrition,
my mental anchors,
and my goal of winning a tenth national water polo title.
That distinction matters.
Resilience is not a coincidence, and it’s not blind optimism. It emerges when an internal locus of control is applied to what is actually controllable.
The Logic of Systems
From a systems perspective, this shows up in two ways:
Activity over passivityPeople with an internal locus of control actively seek information, explore options, and adjust behavior. They stay engaged instead of waiting helplessly for circumstances to change.
Selective control focusControl is directed toward realistic inputs, not uncontrollable outcomes. You can’t control the current of the lake — but you can control every single stroke. Over time, these controllable micro-actions accumulate into momentum.
A clearly defined goal acts as a cognitive stabilizer. It pulls you out of the passenger seat and puts you back behind the wheel. Even when the path is uncertain, uncomfortable, or extreme, goal clarity restores agency within the system.
Next Steps
The first step is Radical Acceptance. It sounds simple, even stupid, but you cannot change a situation you are busy denying. Acceptance isn’t giving up; it’s identifying your starting coordinates.
Once you accept the reality, ask yourself: “Where is my focus right now?”
If it’s External: You are focused on the tumor, the lost revenue, or the injury. You are a passenger.
If it’s Internal: You are focused on the system around the problem.
Take control of the next stroke:
In illness: Focus on your nutrition or your sleep hygiene.
In business: Stop mourning the lost deal and “clean your pipeline”—focus on the next lead.
In injury: Don’t look at the race you’re missing; focus on being the most disciplined person in the rehab clinic.
Keep the big goal in sight, but live in the next stroke. That is how you turn 5% control into 100% impact.
Let me know what your next stroke is!
As always happy to hear your feedback!
All the best
Bernhard
P.S. I’m currently on a multi-year journey to swim The Alpine Seven—339 km across seven iconic lakes—to raise awareness for people living with an illness and to prove that even impossible goals can be achieved with the right system in place. If you want to follow the journey and read my reflections during my time in the water—which is a lot of time—hit the button below.
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P.P.S. I plan to send this out every Friday morning 5 am CET. But as this is a human-to-human connection, please bear with me if life (or my kids) decides to “reorganize” my schedule. I’m a pretty good swimmer, but I haven’t figured out how to swim through a family emergency at a good speed yet! 😉
