A Wanderer's Compass - Part 3
My Guideposts on the Journey
A playlist curated for this article can be found here.
This series is a look into the trail markers I have found in life. What you’ll find here is a list of truths I’ve chosen to live by. I hope to share these truths with you, not as rules to follow, but as an invitation to join me in discovery. I’m convinced the most meaningful guideposts often come from places we least expect. So, as you read, I encourage you to look back on your own journey and find the truths that guide you.
You can find part one here, and part two here.
Rule 4: Don’t Take the Coyote Pee
When I was younger, my dad would take my brother and me out trapping with him. I remember the freezing mornings and evenings spent trudging through the wet snow to get to our trap line to check if we had been successful. It was a good way to grow up and there were a lot of good memories made. One thing that will not leave me though is the smell of the lures we used for bait. Skunk, beaver, raccoon, you name it, but the worst of all of these was coyote pee.
In this same season of life, I had started going to school and was dealing with something most school kids have to navigate: being made fun of. I remember coming home one day from school and being distraught about whatever I was experiencing and my dad said something along the lines of “Charlie, when people make fun of you I want you to imagine them trying to hand you a bucket of coyote pee. If you take it, you’re the one holding the bucket but when you refuse to take it and don’t let it affect you they’re left there holding the bucket”.
As I grew older, the challenges changed. Rather than being a defense from classmates, this rule has become a helpful tool in identifying and establishing boundaries. It allows me to navigate and consider what identities others may try to burden me with.
Very practically, in the workplace this has become a life saver. I’ve received my fair share of unwarranted criticism, this rule allows me to take a step back and objectively look at what is being said to me about my performance or work ethic. I can parse out what might be real feedback hidden behind the stuff that may be intended to cut.
I had a student’s dad come storming into my office one morning during move out week. It was about 6am and I was barely functioning as it was and this very large man is suddenly in my face shouting about how horrible of a person I am for fining his daughter for moving out late. In this moment, I think to respond to this man in the same anger would be taking the coyote pee, letting the interaction devolve into a fight, which is what he was expecting to happen. Instead I introduced myself, and asked him what his name was, who his daughter was, and why she would be fined since move out didn’t end until 5pm today. He was visibly taken aback by my calm response, and he explained that he had to park two blocks away because traffic was so bad and he was worried they wouldn’t be out it time. I told him that if 5pm was approaching and they weren’t done moving out to come and talk to me about it, I wouldn’t fine them if they were actively moving out. He reached out and shook my hand and apologized for yelling at me and told me he was embarrassed for how he acted.
Whether he knew it or not, this dad came in expecting me to be his enemy and he treated me as such. Instead of letting him place that identity on me, I responded as someone who wanted to help him navigate what he was frustrated about, which is what I was hired to do in that role. I think this is the best example I have of not taking the coyote pee. I knew my role and was not going to let someone else come in and alter that without my consent.
I think this guidepost leads me to be intentional with understanding my place in whatever situation I am showing up in. Recognizing power dynamics, social structures, and whatever else may be playing into the moment helps me to own and protect my place. Furthermore, When I take the time to understand where I stand, I can in turn help others more effectively.
This rule requires me to be proactive instead of reactive, it pushes me to seek first to understand and reframe the moments where tensions are high. The more I have practiced this, the easier it has become but I still find myself having trouble not responding to escalating emotions with further escalation. I think it’s just part of the human experience, but it is something that still is worthy of effort to control.
Rule 5: You Don’t Have Enemies
Where the last rule was focused on the identities I allow others to put on me, this one is geared towards the identities I put on others. This rule is directly from an anime I watched a number of years ago called Vinland Saga. I think including this in my list of life rules is important because it further emphasizes the point that we can encounter truth anywhere if we are willing to pay attention.
The theme of Vinland Saga is centered around breaking the cycle of violence and revenge, and the main character struggles to understand what this might mean for him. In the end, he discovers that choosing to not view others as enemies is what actually offers him peace and restoration over the revenge he so desperately wants. I won’t get into the depths of this analysis, but it is fascinating to watch.
I think this guidepost has become crucial for me as our culture continues to pit us against one another whether that is politically, religiously, or otherwise. There is a growing sentiment that “other” and “enemy” are synonymous terms. I would be shocked if you don’t encounter this sentiment on a daily basis through our news, social media, or family/friend group chats. It is an ever-present temptation to see those who disagree with me as my enemy, especially when I’m being told that they view me as their enemy.
This rule challenges me to approach others with humility and openness, even when I feel certain of my position. While it’s tempting to use labels like “enemy” or “opponent” to categorize others, doing so often prevents me from engaging with them as complex, multi-faceted individuals. Labels make it easier to dehumanize and dismiss others, but they also rob me of the opportunity to learn, grow, and perhaps even find common ground.
I’ve found that one of the most powerful antidotes to the enemy mindset is curiosity. Asking questions about someone’s experiences, beliefs, or motivations often reveals a much deeper story than what’s visible on the surface. Curiosity not only helps to bridge divides but also serves as a reminder of our shared humanity. It reframes the interaction from a battle of right and wrong to an exploration of different perspectives.
Another critical component of this rule is recognizing that conflict doesn’t automatically mean hostility. Disagreement can be an opportunity for refinement—both for my ideas and my character. When I refuse to see others as enemies, I’m more likely to listen carefully and engage in a way that promotes understanding rather than division. This doesn’t mean abandoning my values or avoiding difficult conversations; rather, it means approaching those conversations with grace and the intention to understand, not dominate.
Adopting this mindset has required intentionality. It’s easy to fall into the trap of us-versus-them thinking, especially in a world where outrage often feels like the loudest voice in the room. But choosing to resist that temptation creates space for connection, growth, and reconciliation. It reminds me that, at our core, we all desire to be understood and valued.
This rule also aligns with the broader idea of humanizing others, even when it feels undeserved. It’s not about excusing harm or pretending differences don’t exist, but about affirming the dignity of the person standing before me. It’s about choosing to believe that even the most challenging interactions hold the potential for mutual learning.
A mindset that resists seeing others as enemies requires consistent effort. It means actively seeking out perspectives that challenge my own, even when it’s uncomfortable. It means sitting in the tension of disagreement without rushing to win or defend. Most of all, it means treating others as I would hope to be treated—with patience, grace, and the recognition that no single story defines any one of us.
Ultimately, this rule invites me to approach life with an open heart. It calls me to build bridges instead of walls, to hold space for both truth and compassion. In doing so, it reminds me that peace and restoration are not passive states—they are active choices we make, day by day, encounter by encounter. It’s in these choices that I find the foundation for a more hopeful, connected, and empathetic world.
I’ll close this addition to a Wanderer’s Compass as I have with the others; with the questions these rules lead me to ask myself. What circumstances have I been put in where I was given an identity that wasn’t actually true? How did I react to that? What identities have I placed on others that aren’t accurate or helpful?