The Compass

Compass in girl's hand

I bought my daughter a compass on the weekend.

She complained that the needle kept moving when she walked.

“That’s how you know the compass is working. If you move around and the needle is still, then you know that the compass is broken. It’s lying to you.”

“But it’s easier to follow when the needle stays still.”

“Of course it is. That’s the difference between lies and the truth. Lies are often easier, but they point you in the wrong direction.”

“…It doesn’t tell me where I’m going.”

“It will tell you which way North is, and from there you can figure out where you’re going.”

“How can I get it to tell me which way to go?”

“You have to decide where you want to go, then the compass will tell you if you’re pointing in the right direction.”

“That’s dumb, I want to know where the best place is to go.”

“You get to figure that out. That’s the best bit.”

“I don’t want to figure it out. Can’t you just tell me?”

“You don’t want me to tell you that. I’m still figuring out the best place for me.”

“Really, you still don’t know? When will you figure it out?”

“I don’t know, probably sometime just before I die.”

“That’s a bit late isn’t it?”

“Not really. The best bit is in the figuring out.”

“You’re weird.”