Is Collapse Really Your Compass?
When life jerks the rug out from under you, it could be it’s greatest gift in disguise.
Last week I found myself too comfortable in a rabbit hole of back-end website code. Before I knew what had happened I was in a world of 404’s, mismatched url directs–to put it simply, I burned down our little corner of the inter-webs, Apex-Warriors.com. I watched two years of deep (and self-lead) web design and development turn to ash in my hands. Thankfully, Bluehost was able to restore us–but not before losing weeks worth of recent updates.
Prior to this digital catastrophe, i had increased productivity hours (and even pulled a few all-nighters) pouring into this container for my heart-song. The restored version of the website had lost so much of the ‘blood, sweat and tears’ I had invested in it. I felt like life looked at my masterpiece painting, gave it a ‘meh’ and put a cigarette out on the canvas. More than that, I felt panic. Panic over how I could ever get this fully off the ground and in the air with such a substantial set-back, especially since I am acting as a one-man team on web design and implementation. I felt panic for the future of this mission, panic that made me question my place in this world – because yes, sometimes when something is so near and dear to our souls–we do the human thing and spiral.
I wasn’t sure if I was moving in the right direction, I wasn’t sure if I should keep moving at all. Then, in the unsettling quiet of the moment, I remembered what I was working for in the first place, remembered that when I began this, I had even less to start with than what the website was restored to. I remembered what was on the other side of this boulder of an obstacle, what I would be walking away from if I changed directions.
Can you see through the chaos to the finish line?
In the silence after that crash, something unexpected surfaced: I’d been conflating motion with meaning. All those late‑night coding sessions, every layout experiment—they felt essential until they vanished. What remained was the core of the Apex Mission: to create a space for clarity and connection, to help all of you sharpen the blade you use to carve out space for your truth to stand in the world. This forced rewind didn’t steal progress, it revealed what truly mattered.
What wreckage are you standing it, today? A stalled project, a broken habit, or a dream that’s gone dark? That sick pit in your stomach—that raw disappointment—isn’t shame. It’s your signal that you care fiercely about something that matters. When your project, habit, or dream crumbles, it’s pointing straight at one of your deepest values.
Most people hear that pain and turn away. But what if you leaned into it? What if you let the frustration pull you closer to the prize you’re meant to claim? The ones who do are the ones who change lives, and change the world.
The truth is, the very thing you value most lives on the other side of that struggle. Your disappointment is the echo of your own commitment—a compass showing you where to dig in, not where to back off.
Today’s Dispatch:
Really think about this: what recent setback carries your greatest signal—where you felt that sting of loss? Name that thing you care about more than anything. Let that compel your aim in action, then, let the arrow go. Take one courageous step toward it right now, however small. Let your commitment carry you through the struggle to the value waiting beyond. Tell us about it in the comments below, or drop by the Apex Summit, our Facebook group and share your stories.
P.S. – Since we are now fully back online and ready to jump into the world with you – check out our Start Here page to discover more ways you can get in on this movement of personal reclamation and sovereignty.
