Byline: Who knew a broken compass could point me exactly where I was meant to go?
It Started With a Wrong Turn
Picture this: I’m twenty-two, fresh out of college, broke, and leading my first-ever solo group tour through Acadia National Park. It seemed foolproof. After all, I’d grown up weaving through those trails like they were my childhood playground—and they were. But that day, my trusty old compass decided to retire mid-hike like a dramatic movie sidekick. One minute I was confidently spouting off trail trivia, and the next, I was standing in the middle of the woods with eight strangers in quick-dry pants staring at me like, “So… should we panic now?”
Instead of panicking, I did what any seasoned Mainer would do: I improvised. I led the group toward a less-traveled path, one I vaguely remembered exploring as a kid. And that “wrong” turn? Turns out it led to a jaw-dropping, sunlit clearing overlooking the Atlantic—a hidden jewel I didn’t even realize I’d stumbled upon so long ago.
It wasn’t just the scenery that struck me, though. It was the moment itself—the awe from the group, their quiet gasps, their giddy laughter after we decided this detour was destiny. As the kids say these days, it hit different. And that’s when I realized: I wasn’t just showing people pretty landscapes. I was helping them connect—to nature, to themselves, to each other.
Though I didn’t know it yet, that accidental detour would become the first breadcrumb in discovering my purpose. And fun fact: purposes rarely arrive with a neon sign that says, “Congratulations! You’ve unlocked meaningful life goals!” They’re subtle, wily things. They like to drape themselves in mistakes or mishaps until you start paying attention.
The Work in Progress Phase (a.k.a. Me, Still Clueless)
After that hike, I couldn’t shake the feeling. Leading tours wasn’t just a job anymore—it had flickered into something meaningful, something oddly personal. Yet it wasn’t all sunshine and scenic overlooks. I still had moments of doubt (and the occasional mosquito swarm).
For the next few years, I mucked around, trying to make sense of what I was really doing with my life. Some months, I swore I was destined to be Maine’s answer to John Muir, preaching nature preservation from a misty mountaintop. Other days, I was certain I’d missed my shot at a “real career.” Like most people in their twenties, my strategy involved throwing spaghetti at the wall, minus the satisfying thud of any noodles sticking.
Here’s the thing: discovering your purpose doesn’t necessarily mean dropping everything and moving to Bali or suddenly inventing a life-changing dating app (how do all those founders have perfect teeth in their headshots?). Purpose sneaks up on you slowly. It doesn’t demand a perfectly curated five-year plan. It just whispers, “Hey, have you noticed you’re happiest when you’re doing this?”
How to Recognize the Whispers
Spoiler: you’ve probably already brushed shoulders with your purpose, even if you haven’t named it yet. Here are a few things I’ve learned about the hunt:
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Follow Your Curiosity, Not Just Your Resume
At first, I thought purpose needed to fit neatly into the “respectable career” bucket. Helping people find nature’s magic didn’t top any guidance counselor’s career chart. But those moments on the trails lit me up in ways spreadsheets never could. Pay attention to the parts of your life that feel alive, even if society says they’re “just hobbies.” -
Don’t Dismiss the Detours
My broken compass story wasn’t a neat little metaphor served on a silver platter. It was messy, off-script, and mildly embarrassing (“Are we lost?” is never fun to hear). But those detours often pull back curtains you’d never have opened otherwise. Life’s messiest moments tend to hold its biggest lessons. -
Give It Time to Unfold
This one is hard, especially for the impatient among us. But just like the tides around Bar Harbor, meaning ebbs and flows. One day, you might feel sure about what you’re meant to do, and the next, not so much. That’s okay—purpose isn’t a straight line, it’s more of a meandering trail (just pray your compass cooperates). -
Ask Questions That Aren’t About Money
Of course, practicality matters—you can’t pay bills with a “feeling.” But I’d argue that in the long run, chasing one “What pays the most?” decision after another can leave you somewhere a little soul-empty. Instead, ask questions like, “What do I love losing time in?” or “When do I feel the most at peace?”
It Finally Clicked (With a Side of Sea Spray)
Fast forward a decade or so. I’d finally taken the plunge into full-time writing and realized something wild—nature wasn’t just a setting for the life I wanted; it was part of that life. My tours weren’t just about leading people physically; they were about helping them find something emotionally resonant in the simplest things: a bird’s call, a patch of sunlight through the trees, the thunderclap of a wave smashing into the shoreline.
And you know what? Writing—and relationships—work the same way. It’s about noticing details, finding beauty in the overlooked, and guiding yourself (and others) to something a little deeper. Whether it’s falling in love, finding a career, or simply discovering what makes you tick, it’s less about being “perfectly” prepared and more about showing up, getting a little lost, and trusting yourself to figure it out.
My Not-So-Final Thoughts on Purpose
If you’d told me 15 years ago that I’d find my calling somewhere between Acadia’s trails and my tangle of mishaps, I’d probably have laughed and made a joke about hiking as therapy. But here’s the truth: Purpose isn’t static. It’s not a fancy destination with a “You Made It!” banner. It grows with you. Changes with you. Like any good relationship, it requires both care and room to evolve.
So if you’re searching? Start listening. To the quiet moments. To the whispers of joy, not just obligation. And when life inevitably hands you an upside-down compass, take a deep breath and see where it leads. You just might end up finding your own hidden clearing—and yourself—along the way.
