Internal Compass
“People want you to want what they want. If you want the same thing they want, then their want is validated.” — Ann Patchett, These Precious Days
Patchett explains that people often feel uncomfortable when you don’t want what they want. In her case, having children.
For me, it’s the opposite: when I realise that what I want doesn’t match what others want, I start doubting myself. And sometimes, I end up adopting society’s definition of happiness without even noticing. My internal compass is blurry, too easily influenced.
At 16, I was convinced that success in life meant having a good career, getting married, and having children. I found a partner and built a future around a script I hardly remembered agreeing to.
The wake-up call came when I caught myself thinking that if I ever had kids, I would envy them for being free to live the life they wanted. Not exactly the thought of someone building a family. This was my internal compass finally finding its voice and whispering: “You’re going the wrong way.”
It eventually pushed me to reclaim my life - I divorced, and later left everything behind to work in Australia. None of this happened overnight. It took months of hesitation and imagining catastrophic reactions from friends and family, who, of course, reacted far better than expected. And the moment I acted on the decision, the sense of liberation was immense.
It was my first step toward strengthening my internal compass. The process hasn’t been linear. I’ve had relapses, slipping back into following a script that wasn’t mine.
More recently, I lost myself in a job that did not align with my values, almost to the point of burnout. Even though our “sail the world” project was clearly calling, I couldn’t let go of that comfortable position, which on paper seemed enviable. But once I finally did, I felt that same sense of relief, as if my compass and I were finally pointing in the same direction.
Now I’m in the rather fortunate situation of not needing to work for a while. This sounds like the dream situation, except it raises a new, strangely daunting question: What do I want to do with this freedom?
For years, work made it easy to define who I was. Without it, suddenly feel like Jack Sparrow holding a magical compass that works only when you know your deepest desire.
I don’t have the answer yet. Maybe I’ll find it somewhere between two anchorages with Capsula. Maybe the next months will be as much an inner journey as a geographical one.