How to Listen to Your Inner Guidance

How does your voice of inner guidance get your attention? Is it strong and demanding? Soft and timid? Does it whisper or yell in moments of uncertainty? I’m not talking about your inner critic, but rather your spiritual voice of innate wisdom. If you can’t identify it, how do you listen to it? I never knew whether I could hear my inner guidance — my inner critic is so dominant — until last week, during a solo hike of Mt. Esja in Iceland.

Iceland’s Ring Road: Two-week Stay in Air BNB’s

My husband, our daughter, and I spent two weeks driving counter-clockwise around Iceland’s Ring Road. We stayed at Air BNBs and hostels rather than hotels. During our last two nights near Reykjavik, we had our first experience with glamping. Our quarters were the front third of an articulated bus. Online, it looked like we’d have plenty of space. Cramped is an understatement. Memorable? Definitely.

During those two nights (September 10 and 11), we were fortunate enough to witness two spectacular displays of northern lights. Despite staying up late, on our last day I rose with the sun and couldn’t get back to sleep. Resigned to being up and determined not to wake the others, I eased silently out of the bus door, leaving my phone and digital camera batteries charging.

My Physical Journey: Inner Guidance on Mt. Esja

One of my favorite things to do whenever we travel internationally is explore new areas on foot, usually in places where we stay for more than one night. Now or never! I decided to follow the sign toward Mt. Esja and see where it led. What might an alpine trail in the Iceland highlands look like?

In Washington State, I hike on established trails that I can research ahead of time. I’d heard of Mt. Esja from doing extensive research, but as I gazed up at the mountain I couldn’t see any obvious trails. Perhaps the trail was on a different side. Undaunted, I followed the faint grassy path over private property until it became a footpath that disappeared altogether.

The Climb

As I climbed through long grass and over deep, spongy earth, I listened for birds and running water. The grass gave way to rocky rubble, and the grade steepened. After ten minutes I stopped to see how far I’d come and set a turn-around time of 45 minutes.

I felt a buzz of excitement. I was climbing Mt. Esja! In Iceland! By myself! Without a trail! I had nothing with me but a baseball hat and neck muff. How would I document my exploration? What if something happened? Nobody knew where I was. Still, I climbed. I set my sights on a rock band and headed straight toward it, looking for any signs that someone had been there before me. But once I got to rock rubble, any evidence of foot traffic disappeared.

I reached the rock band in about 35 minutes. Yearning to go higher, but aware that I only had a few minutes left, I traversed until I could look down on one of the valleys. A bird with a dark head and white body soared from a cliff. Black-headed gull or razorbill? I’ll never know for sure. When I felt raindrops and saw them on my down jacket, I knew it was time to descend. Traveling over wet rubble would only become harder.

The Descent

I needed to go down the same way I’d climbed up to avoid running into cliffs. My inner critic took over. “Most accidents happen on the way down.” “Don’t do anything stupid.” “Nobody knows where you are.” “You should have brought your phone.” “You won’t find any walking sticks because there are no trees.” “What are you going to do if you fall?” She’s strong and relentless.

She’s also not at all helpful, even though she thinks she is.

I paused to take a few deep breaths and think through my options. By double-wrapping my purple neck muff around my right wrist, if I did slide, I wouldn’t lacerate my hand. Been there and done that, no repeats, please!

Keeping my center of gravity low and over my heels, and eyes on the rocks a few steps in front of me, I set my sights on the “doorway” through the rock band. I squared my shoulders and my inner guidance took over. “You got this.” “You’re strong.” “Slow and steady.” “One step at a time.” I carefully made my way back down over the loose rocks, gaining confidence as rubble turned to rock, grass, and finally path.

When I returned to the bus an hour after I started, our hostess grinned, so pleased that I chose to explore her mountain. Two other guests sounded surprised to see me back so soon. “We were watching your progress,” one said. “You’re fast! How did you know where to go?” I didn’t, I just took a chance and went. And found the inner voice of trust, confidence, and peace I’d sought for two weeks.

The Mental Journey: Inner Guidance at Work

Similarly, I am on a parallel mental journey in my career. At times, launching a new health and wellness coaching company feels like charging up Mt. Esja. Infinite options without a clearly defined path. My inner critic is having a field day. “You’re too old.” “You don’t know all the steps.” “Nobody has done what you want to do.” “It’s too much work.” “You’re going to fail.”

What climbing Mt. Esja taught me is that listening to the inner critic doesn’t help. My new challenge, then, is to notice when she’s taken over and make every effort to quiet that voice so I can hear my inner guidance.

My husband even suggested I replace the image of teetering on a tightwire (where every move I take could result in falling off) with a great big concrete slab that is my foundation of knowledge (where I hover an inch above, with nothing to fear). The only way to fail is to not try.

I have more than 25 years of experience helping people. My clients get results. I don’t have to solve everyone’s problems, I just need to be willing to collaborate, listen, stick to my principles and values, and try new things.

Like heading up Mt. Esja with nothing more than a baseball cap and neck muff. I don’t need to know the outcome and I don’t need perfection. But I do need to be willing to make mistakes.

I have developed a new mantra: embrace fear, failure, and mistakes as my best teaching tools.

The Power of Inner Guidance in Times of Change

That progress halfway up the mountain reminds me that THE JOURNEY means more than the destination. Younger me would have said, “You failed to reach the summit.” Wise Me says, “You found your inner guidance. Trust it. Rely on it. Nurture it.”

The day after we returned to Seattle, I had good news waiting for me: I passed my NBC-HWC exam and am officially a national board-certified Health and Wellness Coach.

I don’t know the exact path forward yet, but I know that Mt. Esja has shown me that I can find peace and confidence no matter where I am. As long as I take consistent action. So I’m taking a deep breath, and here I go!

Whether you are in the mountains or facing a major life transition, trust your inner guidance, not your critic. We may not know exactly where we’re headed. But if we give it our all, and stick to our principles, our best effort is good enough.