Finding Your True North: The Journey to Authentic Values

A much younger me sat in a small classroom at church with my friends. I don't remember the lesson our teacher taught us but I do remember the question we were asked:

"If your house caught fire and you were only able to grab 5 things and save them from the fire, what would they be?"

On the surface this question feels profound. It's supposed to reveal where your values truly lie. As a thought experiment where you visualize waking up to your house on fire with only minutes to grab a few things before reaching safety, it might uncover some truth about yourself.

But in this “comfortable and safe” setting, the question often reinforces social values that are handed to us, not the ones that truly make up who we are. The "right" answers were predictable: family photos, religious texts, heirlooms, etc. Objects that reflected the values our community expected us to have, rather than what might genuinely matter most to us as individuals.

The Challenge of Authentic Living

Living authentically according to our core values seems much easier than it actually is. We're consistently influenced by everything around us. While traditional authorities may have weakened, we now contend with an unlimited stream of information constantly shaping our perspectives.

The good news is that if we can dedicate time to identifying our true values, we have a better chance of finding like-minded people than ever before. The connected world that challenges our authenticity also offers unprecedented opportunities to find our tribe.

We're naturally attracted to authenticity even when it differs from who we are. Discovering our values can also strengthen existing relationships, providing more purpose and meaning to our lives when we bring our full, honest selves to them.

Moving Beyond the Blur

Values are difficult to pin down, especially when many seemingly different value systems share common elements. The blurry lines make it incredibly hard to identify our place and our individuality. It's like staring at a page of Waldos. Sure, they're all slightly different, but when the spread is covered with them, they all essentially look the same.

Without deliberately identifying who we are and what we value, we can easily get swept along with everyone else. There's nothing inherently wrong with this. Many people live perfectly happy, healthy lives without deep values exploration. The problem stems from that nagging feeling that there might be something more. It's the voice in the back of your head that points out the differences between you and others, highlighting those moments when you're with friends but feel slightly out of place.

We long to sit comfortably in our own skin, confident in who we are regardless of circumstances. When we connect with our core values and allow them to guide our decisions, we're more likely to find this confidence, knowing our choices serve something bigger than momentary convenience or social approval.

Beyond Shallow Authenticity

While there's much discussion about "being our authentic selves," I want to echo Seth Godin's warnings about the "authenticity trap." Godin cautions against equating authenticity with unfiltered expression or chasing some mythical "purest" version of ourselves. True authenticity isn't about speaking every thought that crosses our mind or being "brutally honest" without consideration for context or consequences.

Instead, identifying our core values provides a foundation for consistency in our actions and behaviors. Over time, this consistency creates an authenticity that's far more meaningful than impulsive self-expression. This process is about discovering what we truly value above all else, and then aligning our actions and words with these values to create a life of meaning and purpose. Rather than simply justifying whatever emotional state we happen to find ourselves in.

As humans, we benefit from consistency and boundaries. It's better for us to create our own based on what we genuinely value. If we don't, someone else will inevitably make those decisions for us.

Breaking From the Conveyor Belt

One of the hardest parts of growing up is recognizing our ability to make our own choices. It's so easy to get on the conveyor belt of "good decisions" that it becomes difficult to step off and make the right choice for yourself.

In college, I chose to study theater, which felt like a bold personal choice. Yet I soon found myself on an educational path with everyone else who had made this supposedly "unique" decision.

One spring semester, I enrolled in a Directing II class with other upperclassmen who had been studying theater. Within the first week, I became disillusioned by both the curriculum and approach. In a moment of frustration after class, I walked to the library telling myself, "If I'm not going to learn what I need from the class or the professor, then I'm going to have to do it myself." I checked out every book on directing the library had and got to work.

This pivotal moment transformed my educational journey. Here I was, paying tuition to professors teaching from limited perspectives. The education wasn't bad, it just wasn’t satisfying my curiosity. This was in the early days of the internet, making me dependent on whatever books I could access through the library.

My paradigm shifted in those frustrating moments that led me to take independent action. I claimed ownership of my education, realizing that learning was ultimately my responsibility, not the authority I had given so much power to.

This shift didn't just affect my education; it was the first domino in a series that led to shedding my dependence on others and taking ownership where I could. Just as I had accepted the educational system without question, I had also accepted my values because I trusted the adults who handed them to me.

The Courage to Question

One of the most transformative aspects of questioning is that once you start, it's hard to stop. Questions poke holes in the status quo and create opportunities to begin the work of creating personal meaning. Finding holes in inherited values is uncomfortable territory to navigate, which is why many people abandon the questioning process. But it's precisely in this wrestling that we gain insight into who we are and learn to live more authentically.

The Amish tradition offers a fascinating example of structured value exploration. At age 16, Amish young adults participate in Rumspringa, a rite of passage where they temporarily leave their traditional life. This period gives them an opportunity to experience the outside world before deciding whether to be baptized into the Amish church or pursue a different path.

This structured rite highlights what we all possess but often fail to recognize: the ability to choose. The high percentage of Amish youth who return to their community after Rumspringa is remarkable, though certainly influenced by many factors beyond simple value alignment.

Our society would benefit from supporting individual choice more fully, acknowledging the complexity this creates. The beautiful thing about choice is that it never expires. No matter our age or circumstances, we can always reconsider and choose our values.

I emphasize this point because recognizing our freedom to choose is perhaps the hardest part of uncovering our values. Our authentic values might differ significantly from what we thought they were, or from what others in our social circles hold dear. It's like discovering something unexpected about ourselves. Once we know, we can adjust and leverage this knowledge rather than letting it influence us unconsciously.

Creating Space for Discovery  

The exploration of values can be surprisingly enjoyable when approached with curiosity. Having a private space where you can experiment with different perspectives without external judgment. Allow yourself to entertain ideas you've never voiced, thoughts you might hesitate to share with your partner, parents, or friends, and see what resonates at your core.

This is your opportunity to explore questions that open worlds you've only imagined:

• What if I had no responsibilities?
• What if I didn't have to worry about money?
• What would it be like to live in a different country?
• Could I go back to school?
• What if I had studied something else?
• What if I had married someone else?
• Can I accept fundamental differences between myself and those I care about most?
• What would I do if no one was watching?
• What if I only had to worry about myself?
• What would change if I set aside my social ambitions?

This process requires radical honesty, which is much harder than it seems. As my opening story illustrated, social influence runs deep, and it takes genuine effort to push through automatic responses when exploring values.

For these exercises, we need to exit autopilot and enter a state of genuine introspection. Give yourself adequate time and space. There are no shortcuts or quick fixes. Let go of rushing to results and try to enjoy the process of discovery.

When Discovery Brings Discomfort

Value exploration should be enjoyable, but sometimes the results aren't what we expect. Introspection can be challenging when it reveals surprising or uncomfortable truths about ourselves. When such revelations emerge, accepting them becomes its own challenge.

Early in my marriage, my wife and I read "The Five Love Languages" by Dr. Gary Chapman. The book examines how people experience love through five primary "languages":

1. Words of Affirmation
2. Quality Time
3. Physical Touch
4. Acts of Service
5. Receiving Gifts

I approached the book certain that my love language would be physical touch. What threw me completely was discovering that my primary love language was actually words of affirmation.

Breaking my own expectations and learning something new about myself was surprisingly difficult. It shifted my self-perception in ways I hadn't anticipated. In a matter of moments, I needed to readjust how I saw myself in the world I had created.

This might sound dramatic, but when we learn something unexpected about ourselves it can be genuinely unsettling.

I spent weeks grappling with what this revelation meant about me and how I showed up in the world. If I'm being honest, I didn't feel great about needing words of affirmation to feel loved. I saw it as ego-driven, a way to seek validation through what seemed like shallow reassurance. How could something as intangible as words truly satisfy my need for love? I struggled deeply with this insight.

Facing Your Reality

When you uncover a truth about yourself that you're not proud of, the instinct might be to reject it or minimize its importance. Instead, give it more time and space. Sit with the discomfort and examine it without judgment. This discomfort is more common than we realize.

Our society has constructed countless ways for us to avoid uncomfortable realities. Distraction is always available, making it easy to maintain a comforting distance from truth. We tell ourselves soothing stories: we manage our money just fine; the system is designed to keep people like us from getting ahead; our habits aren't "that bad"; if only we had more money, fewer responsibilities, or different opportunities.

We might glimpse potential for improvement but can't see a path forward. Rather than facing reality, we pacify ourselves to avoid change. We maintain the status quo and remain in comfortable distraction.

Acquainting ourselves with reality is difficult but necessary. It means seeing both the admirable and flawed aspects of who we are, and ultimately accepting both. This is easy to describe in an article but profoundly challenging in practice.

Even when I logically understand the importance of self-acceptance, I still battle the narrative that I need to be someone different, that who I am isn't enough. Negative self-talk emerges in waves, and it becomes tempting to escape into my phone, searching for the productivity hack that will transform me into the person I "should" be.

The Myth of Becoming Someone Else

What makes this struggle especially difficult is that while we are adaptable and capable of growth, we all have inherent limitations. I will never:

• Create music like Ben Folds
• Draw like Salvador Dali
• Make like Tom Sachs
• Film like Stanley Kubrick
• Take photos like Sally Mann
• Write like Ernest Hemingway
• Be a father like Curtis
• Be the husband my wife deserves
• Lead like Stuart Jones

This isn't because of some personal failing, but because these are all different people with their own unique combinations of talents, experiences, and perspectives. I've elevated them to mythic status in my mind, ignoring their human complexities and struggles.

The benefit of understanding our own values isn't so we can emulate those we admire, but rather so we can be authentically ourselves in every situation. Getting comfortable with the reality of who we are (the good, the bad, and the complicated) is the first step in leveraging our strengths and living authentically.

Values in Action: A Personal Example

I've completed values identification exercises multiple times over the years, and one value consistently emerges for me: wisdom. This core value has been a major driver behind my career in education. Despite recognizing the education system's complexities and limitations firsthand, I've found great personal meaning in contributing to formal education.

A few years ago, when my son entered high school, I asked him the question I was asked at his age, the same question that drives much of my current work: "What do you want to study in college?"

Confidently, my son responded: "I'm not going to go to college."

It took every ounce of parental restraint to avoid expressing judgment or criticism. His statement felt like a rejection of something fundamental to my identity: my belief in the transformative power of education, my career choice, my values.

In that moment, I faced a profound test of what I had learned through my own values journey. Part of discovering what I personally value also means creating space for others to value something different. My son's divergent values weren't an attack on me or a rejection of my wisdom. They were simply a difference in perspective, the beginning of his own journey toward authenticity.

The fire drill question from my childhood asked what objects I would save, but the more profound question is: what values will I choose to carry forward? And can I create space for others, even those closest to me, to make their own choices?

This is the true gift of values discovery. Not just clarity about our own path, but the ability to recognize and respect the diverse paths of others, knowing that authentic living requires both personal conviction and generous understanding. Whether my son eventually chooses college or a different route entirely, my deepest hope is that his choices will reflect his authentic values rather than merely inherited ones.

The journey of values discovery never truly ends. Each new relationship, challenge, or life stage invites us to reconsider what matters most. The questions keep coming, and if we stay curious and courageous enough to answer them honestly, the path to authentic living becomes clearer.