Of Guides, Maps and Stars
No one forms themselves alone. No one journeys well alone.
Character is shaped – slowly and unevenly – by the guides we trust, the maps we follow, and the principles that orient both. Guides may be people, living or long gone. Maps may be texts, traditions, or practices. But neither guides nor maps are sufficient on their own.
Guides and maps are only as trustworthy as the principles that orient them. Without orientation to true north, even the best guides and the most detailed maps can lead us astray.
A map that is not aligned to true north may look detailed and persuasive yet still lead us astray. In the same way, guides—no matter how compelling—must be oriented toward enduring principles if they are to be trusted.
This page names some guides, the maps and the north star that have shaped my life—not as authorities to be followed blindly, but as companions whose counsel consistently points toward what is good, true, and enduring.
Early Guidance
I had many guides as a young person. The early guides were figures from ancient scripture and modern figures in the authorities of the religion of my heritage. I was blessed to have maternal grandparents spanning back generations and parents who provided moral lessons built on foundational principles including hard work, courage, honesty, service to others, and honor. My mother taught her children to fill our minds with goodness. We faithfully attended the church of our heritage. We daily read from the pages of ancient scriptural texts. Nearly every week my mother gathered her children for a family meeting to discuss these principles and how they mattered for our family.
My first guide was my mother.
She taught me—explicitly and repeatedly – that what we allow into our minds matters. She encouraged her children to seek out wise men and women, to memorize and ponder on their words, and to return to them when life became confusing or difficult. She believed that thoughts shape character, and character shapes life.
She also taught me something less formally but just as clearly: that not every voice deserves equal weight. Guidance must be tested. Wisdom must be oriented. Even well-intended counsel can mislead if it is not grounded in sound principles.
When I was 18, my mother gave me impactful counsel as I left for military training. Among many other things (“return with honor” was her first counsel), she told me to fill my mind with good thoughts, to memorize, study and seek to live by the sayings of wise men and women and those thoughts would guide me during tough times in my life. These sayings would be my companion in dark times. I committed myself to live up to my mother’s counsel. I began seeking out sayings and quotes that touched my heart and motivated my soul. There was no internet and my search was through constant vigilance. I carried a small stack of blank 3×5 cards and two or three quotes that I was memorizing in my shirt pocket. I wrote down everything whether it touched my soul or not. I decided that I needed to capture the quotes because I didn’t know but in a future situation, I would need that wisdom. This has been the case many times. I still have many of those cards in a small recipe box in my office. I cannot bring myself to throw them away as they are a significant part of my development – mind, heart and spirit. Today I have hundreds of quotes stored in my memory. These quotes have helped me survive struggles as well as successes in my life.
You see, long before I had the language for philosophy, I was being taught its central discipline: care of the inner life, guided by enduring principles.
That early orientation formed a habit I have never abandoned.
Philosophical Guides
Over time, certain voices proved durable – able to withstand pressure, responsibility, failure, and time. What drew me to these guides was not agreement on every point, but their shared seriousness about virtue, peace, dignity, and the long view. The guides who shaped me were compelling not because they were charismatic or original, but because their counsel remained aligned – under pressure – with these true north principles.
Socrates
From Socrates, I learned that philosophy begins with the courage to examine one’s own life. Virtue, he taught, is not the outward appearance of success, but the internal health and well-being of the soul. His insistence that inner disorder eventually becomes outward harm remains a true north guide for my thinking.
Epictetus
Epictetus taught me clarity and discipline. He insisted that freedom depends on understanding what is and is not within our control – and on aligning desire accordingly. His work is relentlessly practical, oriented toward right judgment rather than comfort.
Marcus Aurelius
Marcus Aurelius showed me what philosophy looks like when responsibility cannot be avoided. Writing in the midst of leadership and fatigue, he returned again and again to core principles – reminding himself to stay true to what matters most when circumstances threaten to pull one off course.
The Buddha
From Buddhist teaching – especially through writers like Thich Nhat Hanh – I learned to be mindful in all things. Buddhism sharpened my awareness of how craving and aversion distort perception, and how practice can restore orientation when the mind drifts.
Viktor Frankl
Frankl articulated with precision the moral significance of choice even under the most constricting of conditions. His work clarifies that even when circumstances cannot be changed, orientation still matters. Meaning, dignity, and responsibility are not situational – they are directional.
Stephen R. Covey
Covey helped me connect philosophy and leadership. His emphasis on character, integrity, habits of effectiveness and principle-centered living reinforced a conviction I have come to trust: that effort without moral orientation is ultimately hollow.
Confucius
From Confucian thought, I learned the importance of continuity, role, and ritual. Character is formed not only in moments of crisis, but in daily practice—how one honors commitments, fulfills responsibility, and maintains harmony within community over time.
These guides do not speak with one voice. But they consistently point toward the same horizon.
Maps: The Written Word
The writings of these guides function as maps.
I do not read them to collect ideas. I read them to reorient myself. I return to them when I am tired, reactive, or uncertain—when it is easy to confuse motion with progress. The early practice of “3×5 card quotes” encouraged by my mother has made the difference for me in staying true to principles in the moment of choice.
Maps do not remove difficulty.
They help us stay aligned when the terrain is confusing.
True North Principles
Guides and maps can lead us in 360 degrees of directions. Throughout human history, there has always been a loud multitude of guides clamoring for attention. Today, our world is noisy with distracting influencers proclaiming the paths to happiness.
We are free to follow any guide or map and orient them to any star in the vast heavens above. However, there is one true north star. Mariners of all times learned to orient their maps and guide their boats by that one true north star. How can the mariner tell if the star is the true north star? It is not the largest or brightest star. What has made the North Star invaluable to mariners for centuries is its consistent position.
True north principles have guided philosophers from ancient times through today in the same way the North Star has guided mariners. True north principles are not preferences, practices, or personal values. They are enduring moral realities – consistent across time and culture – that orient human conduct to virtue.
Like the North Star, they are not chosen for their brilliance or popularity, but for their reliability. They hold their position even when conditions change.
Wilderness as Guide
Over time, wilderness became another guide.
Backpacking, scuba diving and climbing have taught me that orientation matters more than speed. On the trail, on a rock face or under the water, a small error in direction can compound quietly and sometimes become deadly. Confidence does not correct misalignment; attention does.
Nature is indifferent to titles and unmoved by performance. It rewards patience, humility, and respect for limits. Wilderness reveals character quickly – and exposes when one has lost one’s bearings.
Being Guided Still
One of the most important lessons I continue to learn is the necessity of remaining teachable.
In wilderness, my primary guide is now my son, Daniel. We began backpacking together in 2015 with a 50-mile trek to Mount Whitney in the Sierra Nevada Mountains. His continued experience – earned through thousands of miles hiking the Pacific Crest Trail and careful judgment – has taught me humility and trust. Following his lead has reminded me that wisdom is not owned by age, position, or past achievement.
Orientation matters more than authority.
Choosing Guides Carefully
We do not choose whether we will be guided.
We choose by whom.
Some guides flatter.
Some promise shortcuts.
Some reward performance while quietly eroding character.
The guides named here have proven themselves by their orientation to true north principles. They point consistently toward principles that hold under pressure – principles that are universal, withstand time, are self-evident and are in operation whether we accept or understand them or not.
This work reflects their influence.
Nothing written here requires agreement.
But it does assume a willingness to examine one’s guides and maps to true north principles.
Formation is not a matter of accumulating guidance, but of aligning it. The question is not how many maps we carry, how many guides we follow, but whether they are oriented to true north.
Internal Practice — Orientation
In a previous reflection, you were invited to consider the health of your inner life – to notice what you tend, what you neglect, and how pressure reveals what is already there.
This practice builds on that work by turning outward slightly, toward orientation.
Set aside a few quiet minutes. No writing is required unless it helps you think more clearly.
1. Notice Who Guides You
Without judgment, ask yourself:
- Whose voice do I return to when I am uncertain?
- Who shapes my thinking when I am tired, discouraged, or under pressure?
- Which people – living or long gone – do I trust enough to let them influence how I live?
Pay attention to who actually guides you, not who you admire in theory.
2. Examine the Maps You Carry
Consider the maps you rely on:
- Books, sayings, ideas, frameworks, habits
- Advice you return to repeatedly
- Assumptions you rarely question
Ask gently:
- Do these maps help me orient myself – or simply keep me moving?
- Do they clarify what matters, or just make me feel less anxious?
A detailed map is not the same as a reliable one.
3. Reflect on Orientation
Now return inward.
Ask yourself:
- What principles do my guides and maps point toward?
- When my inner life is under strain, do these principles steady me – or pull me further off course?
You don’t need to name your “true north” clearly yet.
Simply notice whether one exists – and whether it is consistent.
4. Connect Back to the Inner Life
Finally, consider this connection:
The health of my inner life determines how clearly I can see.
The orientation of my guides and maps determines where I go.
Ask:
- When my inner life is neglected, which guides grow louder?
- When my inner life is tended, which voices regain clarity?
Do not rush to change anything.
Awareness is enough for now.
Closing Thought
We do not choose whether we are guided.
We choose by whom, by what, and toward what.
Orientation begins not with movement, but with attention.
Carry that awareness with you into the coming days.
Your candid feedback is valued!