Not every bright idea is a North Star. Some are just streetlights pulling you off course.
Merry late Christmas and Happy New Year to everybody.
For those of you who may or may not know, I spend a good portion of my year in Puerto Rico. One thing Puerto Rico is known for—especially along the beaches—is sea turtles. They live here, and they hatch here.
What’s interesting is that many beaches use red lights instead of the normal white or warm lights we’re used to. There’s a reason for that. When baby turtles hatch, they rely on moonlight to guide them toward the ocean. Artificial white light can confuse them, pulling them inland instead of out to sea.
That detail stuck with me.
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Because in a way, we do the same thing.
We misidentify what we’re supposed to be following. We mistake a bright, nearby light for our North Star. A new trend. A recent failure. A strong emotion. A compelling shortcut. Something flashes, and suddenly we abandon what we were originally moving toward.
On paper, this sounds irrational. We like to think we’re smart enough to tell the difference between the moon and a streetlight. But clarity doesn’t come from intelligence alone—it comes from definition.
To tell the difference, you have to know the characteristics of what you’re following.
That’s true for turtles. And it’s true for us.
If you don’t clearly define your North Star—what it is, why it matters, and why you’ve chosen it—you’ll be vulnerable to anything that shines brighter in the moment. Especially after failure. Especially when emotions are loud. Especially when the evidence feels mixed.
Blind commitment isn’t the goal. Understanding is.
Simply saying, “This is my foundation and I’m sticking to it no matter what,” isn’t enough. You need to know why it’s your foundation. Because when doubt shows up—and it will—the only thing that protects you from drifting is a well-reasoned defense.
So I’ll break my usual rule and give you an action step.
Take out pen and paper. Write this down:
What is my North Star?
What process, value, or direction do I follow regardless of conditions?
Why is this my base?
Now take it a step further. Pretend you’re a lawyer defending this position. Make the case.
Why do I follow this even when the evidence feels shaky?
Why do I follow this even when my emotions say otherwise?
Why do I trust this over the latest “light” pulling at my attention?
Write it clearly. Write it honestly.
Because when the moment comes—and you feel tempted to pivot, abandon, or chase something new—this becomes your reminder. Not motivation. Not hype. Orientation.
And sometimes, staying on track isn’t about moving faster.
It’s about knowing exactly which light you’re willing to ignore.
See you next week.