Do you ever feel like you've tried everything but keep ending up in the same place?

Have you ever found yourself stuck in the same loop, despite your best efforts to break free?

It’s as though every direction you try only leads you back to where you started.

What if the problem isn’t that you’re not trying hard enough... but that you’re following a story that no longer serves you?

There’s a story I want to share with you. It’s a story about a man wandering the wild... but not for the reason he thought.

The Man Who Carried the Broken Compass

Once there was a man who wandered through a vast wilderness with a compass that had been passed down to him by his father.

The compass was old, scratched, and slightly dented, but he trusted it. After all, it had guided his family for generations. Whenever he got lost or confused, he’d pull it out and let it point the way.

At first, the compass seemed reliable. It got him through childhood, adolescence, and the early stages of adulthood. But as the years passed, the man noticed something unsettling. Each time he followed the compass, he found himself circling the same terrain—dry riverbeds, familiar ridges, and the same old disappointments.

He’d find a clearing that looked promising… only to realize he’d been there before. He’d climb a ridge expecting a new view… only to see the same winding path he swore he left behind.

After years of this, his boots wore thin, his shoulders slumped, and his hope grew dim.

He stared into the fire, the glow flickering against tired eyes.

“I don’t know if I have what it takes to navigate this path,”

he said quietly.

“Maybe I’m just not one of the lucky ones who gets to live the dream.”

And then, glancing down at the compass once more, he asked the question that haunted him most:

“Why does following this never lead me anywhere new?”

And then something odd happened.

He dropped the compass out of pure exhaustion.

It hit a rock and cracked wide open.

Inside, he saw the compass wasn’t pointing north at all. It was magnetized by a shard of iron lodged inside, placed there long ago, perhaps during a fall, a storm, or some family trauma passed down in silence.

Suddenly, the truth came rushing in like wind through the trees:

It wasn’t that the world was against him.

It wasn’t that he kept failing.

It was that he’d been following a story that no longer served him.

For the first time, he looked up—not down.

He listened—not to the compass, but to the stillness all around him.

The trees weren’t rushing.

The moon wasn’t worried.

The wind didn’t ask for a guarantee before it moved.

The landscape had always been alive with possibility.

It was the man who kept circling it—clinging to a broken compass.

Maybe you’ve never wandered through the wild with a faulty compass…

But in many ways, this story is about all of us who’ve spent years reliving old patterns and calling it “truth.”

The Compass Is Your Conditioning

The old compass in the story is the byproduct of stories we’ve clung to about who we are and what we’re capable of.

It became distorted over time—not by the events themselves, but by the meanings we attached to those events. Especially the ones we labeled as failure.

Each time something didn’t go the way we hoped, we filed it under “proof” that the dream was too far, that we weren’t enough, that life doesn’t work out for people like us. Rather than seeing those moments as redirections—refinements of the path—we internalized them as evidence.

Eventually, the compass wasn't pointing north at all. It was magnetized by disappointment, filtered through false narratives, and reinforced by years of settling and self-doubt.

And so we kept circling—not because we were unworthy of the dream, but because we were following a direction shaped by disillusionment.

The Echo of a Story Unquestioned

The most painful experiences often don’t come from what actually happened—but from the story we kept telling ourselves after it happened.

We became the narrator of a loop:

“I always get close… and fall short.”

It wasn’t a fact. It was a spell.

A well-rehearsed script written in the ink of past pain.

We don’t suffer from events. We suffer from the meaning we never stopped repeating.

Your Purpose Is Buried Beneath the Story

The dream—to be a creator, a storyteller, a voice that matters—is still there.

It’s always been there.

It was never about being “worthy” enough or “lucky” enough.

It was about how much energy got tied up in shame, doubt, and quiet resignation.

Like rearranging the furniture in a dream, hoping it will make you feel more awake.

Purpose doesn’t hide. It hums beneath every moment you thought didn’t matter.

You Were Never Truly Lost

The forest was never the enemy.

The compass was never trying to betray you.

It was just calibrated by stories that were never yours to carry forever.

They weren’t real.

They were thoughts.

Beliefs.

Assumptions passed down, reinforced, and left unchallenged.

When the man finally looked up—when he stopped trying to be “better” and simply became still—he remembered: He wasn’t broken. His sense of direction had just been calibrated by distorted beliefs.

And that changed everything.

The path forward wasn’t something to find. It was something to feel. It was always inward.

The Path Forward

What if the dream was never elusive at all?

What if it’s been quietly waiting for you to stop chasing it in circles…

…to stop mistaking pain for prophecy…

…to stop calling the broken compass “truth”?

You are not your past.

You are not the accumulation of your past disappointments.

You are the author of what comes next.

Drop the broken compass.

See your future through the lens of what is possible only because of your past experiences. What you perceived as failures have all been gifts to guide you forward.

Because one day, someone else will point to your story as proof that it’s never too late.

And they’ll be right.

What About You?

I’d love to hear how this resonates with you. Have you been carrying a broken compass in your own journey?

If something in this message sparks a shift or curiosity, I invite you to send me a DM and share what’s coming up for you.

I personally read every response and will take time to connect with you.

Can’t wait to hear from you,

Cliff