Captain, BEWARE: That Compass May Not Guide You When You Go Ashore!

You must use the RIGHT Inner Compass to navigate your life, to become the person you’re MEANT TO BE!

If you’re going to Captain the grandest vessel — the Ship that is YOUR LIFE — you need to use your Inner Compass to detect what you’re going through, and point yourself in the right direction.

Be aware of what’s happening around you, not just in your environment, but — perhaps even more importantly — mentally and emotionally.

You need to be aware of what is going on in the turbulent ocean of your life!

You cannot close your eyes at the wheel and hope, through sheer luck, that if you stay quiet, keep your head down, and ignore everything going on around you, your ship will end up where you want it to be.

No, you must use your Inner Compass to guide you.

That requires more than intuition. More than “just a hunch.”

It requires experience tested and wisdom gained, forged through the hardships that you encounter, not when you’re moored, but when you’re sailing, out in the open sea.

Grit. You take it with you. The determination to be an Explorer, willing to explore life. Sometimes afraid, but undeterred, you’re ready to journey into uncharted territory.

But, BEWARE: We all think we’ve got a map for our lives — a general sense of where we’re expected to go — but when the landscape begins to change…

Like a slow subtle creep, or a drastic shift that carries your ship away against your will, threatening to pull you under the fast flow of currents swirling around, you have to have your wits about you.

“Sea legs,” they call them.

Though, on land, you might call it “self-awareness.”

There ought to be a warning, though, BEFORE you set sail: You may come across a Distant Land, a place too enticing to be left unexplored.

Let your Inner Compass guide you to new heights, to become the person that you’re meant to be.

– The VICTUS Method

I chose the title The VICTUS Method: Synergy of Science & Self because “victus” means “way of life,” and the VICTUS Method combines many different modalities to calibrate the Inner Compass I’ve used to survive the sea change I’ve experienced in each season of my life.

At its core, my Inner Compass is supported by the Meditation I’ve practiced since I was a child. But, I didn’t stick to sitting lotus style, eyes closed.

I meditate, like a Captain checking my Compass, no matter what activity I am doing.

But recently, it’s led me to a discovery that’s quite startling:

My Inner Compass — that’s been tuned to the open sea — isn’t calibrated to the new environment I find myself in:

I’m not out at sea anymore.

My gaze has brought me to the shore, to a path that’s unstable and rocky beneath my feat, as I find myself walking, climbing upward, toward the Summit of a Mountaintop I hadn’t imagined climbing since I was young.

I find the Compass I’ve carried in my breast-pocket, held so closely to my chest, no longer serves me.

The measurements it takes are of no use in this new Quest.

All is not lost, though.

There’s a new Compass, glittering in the distance.

But, it’s not whole — not yet.

It exists in tiny, shimmering parts.

Small, intricate, moving pieces that glisten in the sun.

I search for them daily, by following the energy that rises and falls as my inspiration guides me, like a magnet to each tiny piece.

Little by little, they reveal themselves to me: A gauge. A gear. A spinning set of instruments.

By day, I collect.

By night, I piece them together, under the starry, moonlit sky.

They fit, like tiny puzzle pieces I’ve just barely begun to find, hidden here and there, nestled in the nooks and crannies of the Nature that surrounds me.

I look ahead, to the path I must climb, and see how it’s winding upward, on a steep incline.

The terrain’s not clear.

And, I realize, I have to be bold.

I take a step, then another. I strain and brace my legs.

I stumble under the weight of the boulder, invisible, but always there; it’s my past, that weighs heavy upon my shoulders.

But, I trudge along, buoyed by what I imagine is waiting up there, at the Summit, for me to see.

Days pass and, still, I cannot yet see it from where I stand, but I imagine the view at the peak.

I imagine the grandeur.

More magnificent than the brightest sunset I have ever seen at sea.

Where, once I reach the top, I can see, not only the valley down below, but the ocean I’m so familiar with, glittering in the distance.

Except now, I can see the water with new eyes, from a new vantage point.

The 30-foot waves that crashed against my ship won’t appear so severe, so life-threatening.

The salt won’t crack my lips, the way it did, many times before.

That day, when I reach the pinnacle,

I’ll see how far I’ve come, having traveled the path I never dared to walk,

to climb a Mountain I never dared to climb,

to become the person I never dared to be.

And I will know it then:

It was worth it.

To dare.

To dream.

To do.

To become who I was meant to be.

The Explorer in me honors and respects the Explorer in you,

Marisa