During a recent leadership workshop, the facilitator asked us to close our eyes and wait. After a moment of silence, he said, “Point to where you believe North is.” Then he asked us to open our eyes, and what we saw was surprising: We found ourselves pointing in 13 different directions.
A simple task. One word. One direction. Thirteen interpretations.
Some laughed. Others looked around, confused. A few tried to justify their guesses based on the room layout. But the facilitator did not need to explain. The message was clear: Even with the simplest prompts, certainty is not as common as we think. And even when we believe we are aligned, we might not be.
That moment stayed with me. It was meant to demonstrate the importance of alignment, but it revealed something deeper: how often we rely on internal compasses that do not match reality, and how risky it is to assume others see the world the same way we do.
What struck me most was the confidence. Each person pointed without hesitation, fully convinced they were right. But when we opened our eyes, we realized how far off we were — not just from North, but from each other.
It made me think about the workplace — about meetings where everyone nods, yet everyone walks away with a different idea of what was agreed on; about project teams pulling in slightly different directions, assuming they are aligned simply because they are aiming for “success,” while their definitions of success quietly differ; about organizations that set strategic goals and assume the vision is shared, while execution on the ground tells a different story.
This is not just a leadership problem. It is a human problem. We all carry assumptions shaped by our backgrounds and experiences, and too often, we confuse familiarity with clarity. Just because something makes sense to us does not mean it is understood the same way by others.
In that room, everyone pointed based on a personal reference point — something they remembered, sensed, or assumed. We relied on our instincts without asking whether they were valid. That is exactly how misunderstandings happen, how projects drift, and how trust erodes — not because people do not care, but because they are each following a different version of North.
In leadership, misalignment has a cost. It is not just about directions; it is about decisions. Even small misunderstandings compound over time — like two trains leaving the same station at a slight angle. After a few meters, they are close, but after a few kilometers, they end up in different cities.
That is why leadership is not about having all the answers. It is about making sure everyone’s compass is calibrated, about slowing down just enough to check: Are we aligned? Are we seeing the same goal? Do we interpret the vision the same way?
This lesson is not limited to leadership. On a personal level, I started wondering how often I have walked through life assuming I am going in the right direction simply because I am moving with purpose. How often have I confused movement with alignment? How many times have I felt frustrated with others for not “getting it,” without realizing we were working with different definitions of “it”?
Ironically, we often reward speed more than alignment. We admire the fast mover, the bold decision-maker. But if they are going the wrong way, they are just getting lost faster.
The beauty of that “North” moment was that it was quiet. No one argued. No one defended their direction. We just looked around and realized that we were all confident — and all wrong in different ways. It was humbling. And that humility is something we need more of, especially when leading, mentoring, or collaborating.
Instead of asking, “Do you know where we are going?” maybe the better question is, “Can you show me where North is?” Because the moment you ask people to show, not just agree, you start to uncover the invisible misalignments. And once they are visible, they can be corrected.
I left that workshop with more than just a story. I left with a renewed awareness that clarity is not guaranteed, and that alignment is never automatic. When people are quiet, it doesn’t mean they agree. And as we navigate our careers, our relationships, and our teams, we must be willing to pause, recalibrate, and sometimes admit: Maybe I am not pointing North after all.
Success is not about being the fastest to move. It is about making sure we are all headed to the right place — eyes open, compasses checked, directions confirmed.
• Firas Abussaud is a petroleum engineering systems specialist with more than 23 years’ experience in the industry.


