A GPS will get you exactly where (somebody else) wants you to go.
A compass doesn't force you on a single path.
Tourists want to know exactly where they are going. They want to be sure they are going to the "right" place. Using a GPS always ensures we get to the right place, but how do we know that right place is "right"? Somebody else decided it was right. We believe them. The GPS gets us there.
Tours are designed for us by someone else. Educational programs are designed for us by someone else. When we are a newbie studying a new knowledge domain, or a traveler in a new place, following somebody else's plan makes sense.
As Explorers, sooner or later, we will choose to step out on our own, maybe for short trips initially and then, as we learn, for longer ones. Getting on a new path is not always fun. We can't be sure we are going to see something better. We only know that it will be different. There are some good reasons to believe it will be worth it.
Let me tell a story of a tour I once went on.
I like to drive. In particular, I like to drive around Southeast Asia. Why? Well, I like to drive...we covered that already. In addition, it is a great way to see what is going on, on the ground, in villages and all of the areas in between cities, in a region that is developing so quickly and has so many contrasts squeezed into a relatively small area. In 2000, I joined a group of 4x4 drivers who were driving from Bangkok to Kunming in Southern China. Back then, things were not quite so open and the road infrastructure was not very developed. Roads far from cities and high up in the mountains in northern Laos and southern Yunan were bad--but that is part of the fun in a 4x4. Driving to China in 2000 required a lot of paperwork: a Chinese driver's license, a temporary registration for your car, all of the import and export documents for your car to go across borders, visas, etc. The group I was joining took care of all of that, and as a bonus--to most of the people on the trip--*we even had a police escort* all of the way from the Chinese border to Kunming and back. That was not a bonus for me. It meant traveling in a tight group the whole time, but what could I do? I did not know what was possible and what was not. I promised to behave myself, more or less.
The drive--again, the infrastructure was very different twenty years ago--took over a week to get to Kunming, winding up through the mountains, along narrow dirt roads that were also used by a range of vehicles from local farm equipment to large trucks. I had plenty of time to think and the Explorer in me started to break out. I decided when I got to Kunming I was going to get out for a drive or two on my own.
I started testing the tour organizers: could I do this...?, I asked the tour guide. No. Could I do that? No. Over and over, I relentlessly prodded and was rebuffed. After a few days, the tour guide enlisted the help of the police escort. These friendly policemen were with us all the time, eating with us, getting drunk with us (we always bought the drinks), and leading our caravan through the mountains of southern Yunan. They agreed with the tour guide, No, you cannot go out on your own. It is illegal. It is not possible. [Another example of an innovation killer: do what is easy for you, regardless of what your customer wants.]
One day I had a breakthrough. The tour guide insisted on riding with me because I was traveling solo. That meant he talked on the radio incessantly (these 4x4 trips always involve a lot of radio chatter). There was a constant battle in my car because I kept turning the music up. He kept turning it down so he could yap on the radio ("Hey, there is chicken to the right of us.") I changed strategy. I decided to "interview" him (an Explorer's tool) to understand his goals and pains. He started telling me about his job. The ins and outs. The number of trips he had made. His connections in Yunnan (he was Thai) and how he learned Chinese. I complimented him on his work and his help in arranging this trip (he liked that). We went into the details of all he had done for us--and for me--to make the trip work. Didn't I realize I had a real Chinese driver's license and a real vehicle registration? Didn't I realize I was a fully legal driver driving a fully legal car? Didn't I understand the amount of paperwork he had to do for all of that? He did all that for me!
I thanked him. I told him I would definitely do the trip again sometime. Could he arrange another trip for me? Of course he could!
But I had a problem, I confided in him. Next time I would probably only come on my own, or with a friend or two. We would travel in just one or two vehicles, not in a full caravan.
He got very serious: "No problem, Ed. I can arrange everything, but I'm sorry, if you only come in one or two cars, you will not be able to have a police escort. You will have to travel on your own. You will have to find your own way and make your own plan."
I smiled: So, it is legal! I would be doing exactly that in Kunming, in a few days.
There are many good reasons to try to find a new path, or as I said in another post, to drive your own bus.
When you follow your path, you have a chance to fulfill your goals. When you follow somebody else's path, you follow their goals. There may be some overlap: a tour guide must take you to places that are well-known and popular so that you can avoid that ever-painful FOMO when you tell your friends about your trip. However, the tour guide does what is best for them: the easiest, most efficient, and most profitable. They are not going to do the best things for you. Instead, they seek a trade-off between what is pretty good for you, and still efficient for them to deliver.
Moreover, when you strike out on your own path, you build confidence. You find out that, despite all of your fears to the contrary, you can find places to eat, you can find places to visit that are interesting, and you can find ways for people to communicate with you. In short, you can do it. This is empowering.
Finally, you do something valuable just by being different: if your friends all go to the prescribed tour stops and you go somewhere else, you have better stories to tell just because you have different stories.
So, there are plenty of reasons to push yourself past your fears and find a different path. The benefits outweigh the costs (once you overcome the fears, that is). Most importantly, you have given yourself a chance to get another benefit: you might discover something that really is better.
Sure, this is not going to happen every time. Most of the time, as Explorers, we must be content with the satisfaction and confidence from just doing something different--and that is plenty worth it. And then, once in a while, we find something really special: a new place, a great little restaurant, a cool shop, an interesting person. You may be unlikely to find something new and cool every single time but you can be 100% sure NOT find it, if you don't allow yourself to get out and explore.
The same journey analog works for our explorations into new opportunities. We don't find breakthrough opportunities every single time. Lots of iterations, and some luck, are necessary to find them. They are rare. That is what makes them valuable. If we don't push ourselves to try we can be sure that we never find them.
In Learning is a Superpower, I talked about various things I had started studying and had not finished. Let me add a few observations to that:
Each was an experiment, and while each might seem to add up to a lot of wasted time and money, almost every foray into learning (about wood, food, language, or coding) was manageable in terms of money, effort, and time.
Each experiment was worth it. Sometimes the experiment taught me what I didn't want to do (learning what doesn't work is valuable, too). Most of the experiments were fun even if they didn't lead anywhere: as I write these words, funny memories come back from each of them. Every experiment added experience, knowledge, thoughts, and ideas that I still might use.
The experiments were not directionless. I had a good reason (at the time) to try everything I did. They were valid and valuable. I've applied some of what I've learned directly in both my personal and professional life. All aligned with a general compass bearing that I had set for myself. The outcomes of each experiment, in turn, influenced the future direction of my compass.
Each of them made me a better learner because each attempt helped me test new possible pathways (for life or work). Combined, I gained new tools, new ideas, and interactions with different kinds of people (people training to be professional chefs are very different than people who want to build a wooden house off-grid in the middle of nowhere). Being a better learner makes me a better teacher. As I learn something new, I also visualize how I would change it, modify it, or incorporate it into some other job I need to do.
This way of re-mixing materials, tools, and knowledge is a great way to innovate. Give up the belief that there is a "right path" or a "right way". Instead, explore experiment, and remix things into something new and better. There will be forces against you. I remember being admonished by a senior professor once while I was doing my Ph.D.: "You need to get into the club before you start to change things." Sorry, not for me.