CourtSchurmanGO.com 2025-06-24

Personal Growth: How to Balance Progress and Pain

Following our phenomenal two-week trip to Iceland, I dove headfirst into two packed weeks of growth. I wanted to capitalize on the beautiful weather and fall colors October brings to the Pacific Northwest. Growth events included a 3-day writers’ conference in Edmonds, critique group meetings, client sessions, lunches and walks with friends, and a handful of mountain adventures.

The biggest event in my month of connections was going to be a week-long visit to Asheville, NC to see my parents. Unfortunately, Hurricane Helene wreaked havoc on their home. I had to postpone my upcoming trip indefinitely. During a time of so many fun things, how can I get past the one giant disappointment? By focusing on what went right.

We enjoyed fall colors and sunshine on a Mountaineers' hike to Monte Cristo Ghost Town on the Mountain Loop Highway. — We enjoyed fall colors and sunshine on a Mountaineers’ hike to Monte Cristo Ghost Town on the Mountain Loop Highway.

Growth: Embrace Small Wins and Community Connections

This was my thirteenth year (six years as a paid attendee and seven volunteering) participating in Edmonds’ Write on the Sound (WOTS) writers’ conference. As a senior member of the planning committee, I agreed to help host the online portion of the conference. This happened to be a day after I learned about Hurricane Helene’s devastation in my parents’ hometown.

I kept myself focused on the task before me on September 28, and again the following weekend for the in-person part of the conference. My tasks included introducing speakers, guiding lost participants, and evaluating sessions, among others. I also had several opportunities to connect with my accountability partner, Elena Hartwell Taylor.

My accountability partner, Elena Hartwell Taylor (of Allegory Editing) has been instrumental in my personal growth. Here we catch up over lunch at Write on the Sound 2024.

Novel Writing Revisited

Attending the conference also renewed my interest in working on a manuscript that I shelved when I started my blog. Being a part of an intellectual community gives me a sense of creative purpose and reminds me why I write in the first place: To learn about what matters to me.

My online critique groups have also provided me with valuable insights on several pieces I shared. All eight of my writing partners seemed thrilled to learn that I wanted to give my novel another try. I am blessed to have the depth of support I do. In difficult times our community is critical to our mental and emotional well-being.

Fostering new social ties in the mountains while hiking to Monte Cristo ghost town.

Venture Outdoors with Leadership Growth Potential

My alpine adventures in October have included a solo hike of Mt. Teneriffe, a return to McClellan Butte with two friends, a small group outing to Monte Cristo, and a trail work trip on the Wagon Train Trail near Franklin Falls.

Morning rays peek through the forest and fog high on Mt. Teneriffe. I entered this photo in WTA's fall photo contest. — Morning rays peek through the forest and fog high on Mt. Teneriffe. I entered this photo in WTA’s fall photo contest.

Each represents growth beyond my comfort zone. Teneriffe was a solo 13-mile, 4100′ gain trip that I completed in six hours. I had the mountain to myself except for two people I saw half an hour from the trailhead. Two friends and I hiked McClellan Butte on a Saturday, including part of the very exposed scramble at the top. There were maybe a dozen cars in the parking lot when we finished.

Our rainy 6-person hike to Monte Cristo’s Ghost Town confirmed how much I long to lead trips again. This time, hikes rather than climbs. Not only did the participants get along great, but I loved sharing my knowledge and skills with multiple people. With luck and good weather, I should complete my mentored hike by the end of November so I can lead off-season outings with the Mountaineers.

My friend Susie followed me up part of the scramble on McClellan Butte with Mt. Rainier behind us.

Trail Maintenance: A Different Kind of Exercise

The trail maintenance trip introduced me to a group of seasoned veterans with years of experience. Even though I can hike for six hours or more, doing demanding physical labor for the same amount of time is a different story. It reminded me of my time volunteering at the Woodland Park Zoo mucking out the giraffe barn and raking leaves on the savannah, another period of growth.

The WTA crew introduced me to trench digging, trail widening and narrowing, bridge flossing, rock hauling, root removal, and wood chip shoveling. I loved the satisfying feeling of accomplishment — that “Look what I helped create!” feeling — as we surveyed our work on the return to the cars. Now I can say I’ve helped beautify trails at my favorite place along I-90: Exit 47.

Getting a primer on all the WTA tools we might have to use at Wagon Train Trail (Exit 47) off I-90.

What’s more, all four alpine experiences deepened my commitment to getting outdoors. It helps that we’ve had gorgeous weather. Have I mentioned how much I adore October in the Pacific Northwest? I have since added two hikes to complete the requirements for leadership. And with luck, I’ll participate in other trail maintenance trips this fall.

Balancing Professional and Personal Growth

An area that has proven challenging during the past month is professional development. Sometimes I struggle to apply the new neuroscience material I’m learning. I don’t handle frustration very well. And neuroscience feels as complicated to me as rocket science.

But every time I find something that makes a difference to a client, it feels as rewarding to my brain as trail work and hiking are to my body. Am I generating new neurological pathways? I’ve been told that struggle leads to mastery. If we’re not struggling, we cannot grow. I’m trying to remember to embrace the pain as a way to move forward.

Our fearsome threesome after a day hiking McClellan Butte.

As I try new challenges, sometimes my sleep quality and self-care time decrease. Not good. Particular physical therapy exercises, grounding, eating healthy foods, and practicing mindfulness keep my engine running when I do them. My challenge is making sure I keep a balance between challenge and restoration. To thrive means doing mentally challenging tasks while also ensuring I keep recuperative efforts.

Managing Anxiety

The day after the online portion of the conference (Sunday, September 29) I tried to reach my parents without success. Their power, water, landline, and cell services were all knocked out. A powerless feeling settled around my neck and shoulders. I wanted so badly to help, to comfort them in some way, perhaps by extension, comforting myself.

Evaluating the Elements of Scene master class taught by Jenny Bartoy at Write on the Sound, 2024.

I dove into physical chores: draining and scrubbing the hot tub; scouring the basement shower; raking and sweeping using tools my parents sent a few years ago. Logically, I knew none of those chores would help them. But they allowed me to think grateful thoughts and send healing wishes across the country. Now that I know they’re physically okay and their house is under the care of a general contractor, I feel a release of some anxiety.

Navigating Disappointment and Finding Perspective

On Friday, my mother texted an update to me and asked to FaceTime. At the same time, United Airlines sent a second change in my flights. This time, however, they booked me on flights I never would have chosen myself. As I tried contacting my mom, I had a sinking feeling I’d have to postpone my visit. Too many signs were telling me to delay travel.

Sure enough, my mom told me about the house damage and contract work starting during the proposed visit. They wouldn’t have running water until (at the earliest) the very end of my week-long visit. To make things worse, while we talked, my husband had to start a work call, cutting our call short.

My lovely parents enjoyed a sushi restaurant when I last visited them in February 2024. Love you guys!

Understanding the Hidden Message Behind a Craving

Emotionally drained, missing my parents, and feeling very sad, I almost succumbed to a primal urge to binge on chocolate. You crave connection, not chocolate, my inner voice whispered. Aha, connection – to myself, with others. Chocolate wouldn’t help. Another growth opportunity!

Instead, I took Ajax for a long walk and tearfully focused on taking deep breaths. I enjoyed a lovely lunch with a dear friend. My husband and I played ping pong and enjoyed a movie night. And I started counting my blessings.

Delicious trail food - homemade pad Thai - works way better for my body and mind than trail mix and chocolate right now. — Delicious trail food – homemade pad Thai – works way better for my body and mind than trail mix and chocolate right now.

One silver lining was learning about the airline’s cancellation policy (security is my Achilles’ heel). Because United had already made two changes to the ticket, I was eligible for a full refund. Knowing I wouldn’t be out that investment helped. I took my journal to the backyard to ground, letting Mother Earth do her job to center me, and gradually, I felt better. Working on this blog post and focusing on gratitude got me to the point this weekend where I almost felt giddy about the many good things in my life. Growth in action.

Choosing Gratitude in the Face of Change

While I may not get to connect in person with my parents as planned, rather than dwelling on that setback, I can focus on everything going well. Over the past two weeks, I met some potential new hiking partners, including one who might be someone I could co-lead with. I found a new way to give back to the mountains and my hiking community by helping maintain and rebuild trails.

The middle-grade novel I set aside three years ago has drawn me back with renewed interest and excitement. My husband and I are studying a neuroscience curriculum that is challenging me mentally and physically and has the potential to provide enormous benefits to my clients.

Beautiful fall colors below the stunning peaks surrounding the ghost town of Monte Cristo.

Takeaways

Can I spin the big negative into a positive? My folks will likely have running water in another month, so I could look for dates in early 2025 for a visit. By then, they’ll have the roof repaired and guest bedrooms fixed. Not only will they be able to enjoy visitors, but the restaurants and community of Asheville will have more time to re-establish equilibrium after pervasive flood damage.

We can’t change natural disasters. But we can change our reactions to them. My parents are fortunate: they live outside of the flood zone. They have each other and their physical health. Their community is banding together in creative, unique ways. And while they have a hole in their roof, their house still stands, intact, with phone, cell, and electrical services restored.

Ajax poses in front of a beautiful tree in the Arboretum this morning on a walk-and-talk with a friend.

My parents have endured a lot. They’re resilient. And patient. I’ll have to be, too. So, I will turn my focus toward strengthening local connections within the Mountaineers, WTA, colleagues, clients, and my writing community. I know that I’ll visit Asheville again when the timing is better. We cannot choose the timeline, but we can choose our attitudes about it.

If you have examples of shifting your attention away from negatives and toward gratitude, share them in the comments so we can all learn. I love hearing from readers!

Iceland Week 2: How to Enjoy the Country of Fire and Ice

Last Friday, I shared highlights from the first week of our two-week Iceland vacation. Building on our family’s tutorial on how to get the most from your Iceland visit, today I share our westward trip from windy Lake Myvatn from week two.

The view north along the East Iceland coastline and fjords.

Explore Iceland: Godafoss, Petting Zoo, and Akureyri

Day 8 was unique in that I recalled three smaller events rather than one big highlight. They included visits to a waterfall, a petting zoo, and the “capital of north Iceland,” Akureyri.

Godafoss

Our first stop out of Myvatn was at a waterfall named Godafoss, which looked like two rivers running at right angles into each other. But from above, we could see that one river wrapped around a resistant basalt “island” in the middle. The winds had died down significantly from the previous day, and we enjoyed partly cloudy skies and clear views of the panoramic falls.

Daladyrd Petting Zoo

When I told my husband our next stop was a petting zoo, he seemed skeptical. A zoo, in Iceland? Volunteering for eight years at the Woodland Park Zoo has made me a big fan of exploring international zoos of all kinds and sizes. When I read off the list of animals we’d be visiting, Brooke and I put it to a vote, and we won.

We arrived just before they opened at 11 a.m., but the owners let us in early. After meeting their adult dogs and two cats, I headed out to see their Arctic fox. We hadn’t had any luck seeing one anywhere else. The female was vocalizing and her fur was transitioning from summer dark to winter white. My daughter spent at least half of her time visiting with three kittens who climbed all over her.

The owners’ seven baby puppies made their public debut, and we laughed at chickens chasing rabbits away from their days-old chicks. We also visited their Icelandic horses (including two precious black foals), cows, goats, guinea pigs, turkeys, and sleeping pigs. Okay, so it was more of a family farm than a zoo. It was still fun. My daughter took her turn on their outdoor trampoline, getting a boost of endorphins for the next phase of the trip. We agreed unanimously that it was worth a stop on a long day of driving.

Akureyri

The “capital of north Iceland” and the second largest settlement outside of the capital region is Akureyri, with 20,000 inhabitants. We spent a few hours visiting a yarn shop and neighboring bookstore, replenishing our food supplies (at Bonus!), having a picnic at the waterfront, and looking for birds and flowers at the local Botanical Gardens. Fall colors had already appeared by September 6. After that, we headed for our next stay in the tiny village of Laugarbakki.

Iceland Airbnb Lodging

By this point, five things stood out about Icelandic Airbnb lodging:

Most of the places we chose were pretty tight quarters compared to New Zealand and US lodging
Most places had shoe racks right inside the door to prevent tracking in dirt requiring additional cleaning
Icelandic locks on bathrooms and outer doors took patience and persistence to figure out
“Fully equipped kitchen” means something different to everyone
Every place had its unique charm and, even though tight, we had everything we needed, including WiFi

When we reached the Guesthouse Langafit I made us dinner for the first time in a week: golden potatoes, bacon, and ground pork. Not the set-up I’m used to but still tasty and relatively affordable. We also had a few delightful conversations (supper and breakfast) with a lovely couple from Austria who were traveling the Ring Road in the opposite direction. We swapped stories and photos before heading our separate ways.

"Fully equipped kitchen" where I made dinner the night before our anniversary. — “Fully equipped kitchen” where I made dinner the night before our anniversary.

A very tight fit, with three single beds and our luggage in the aisle.

Explore Iceland: Westfjords In a Day

To kick off our 28th wedding anniversary on day 9, I cooked bacon and eggs so my husband and daughter could sleep in. Back home, we’d debated about how much time we could allot for the Westfjords. We ended up downgrading from three days to one once we decided to drive the whole Ring Road. We still spent more than four hours driving on day 9, the second longest driving day of the entire trip.

In Holmavik we spent 45 minutes in the tiny Museum of Icelandic Witchcraft and Sorcery, my daughter’s choice for the region. I’d watched a short video about necropants, tilberi, and the zombie climbing out of the floor, so I knew what to expect. Fortunately, we were provided a guide in English so we could read about the exhibits.

Natural Hot Spring

The other highlight was my only hot springs experience in Iceland, at the Reykholar Hostel. We’d chosen not to visit the Blue Lagoon resort outside of Reykjavik as too touristy. However, when we checked in early at the hostel, we learned that only one of the nine rooms besides ours would be occupied that evening. And not only was there a sauna, but a hot tub as well!

After dropping off our bags to make room in the car, we explored a very winding road west from Reykholar, but after an hour of driving west, we all agreed that we’d had enough fjord driving and decided not to continue to the pink sand beach of Latrabjarg. Instead, we returned to the hostel where my husband tried out the sauna and I enjoyed a solo dip in the natural springs hot tub.

Hot tub shell over a natural hot spring. I had it all to myself despite the hostel having nine rooms.

This spa had an incredible view and no top to move, buttons to push, or knobs to turn. I soon discovered that the shell of a hot tub sat perched directly over a geothermal hot spring. The markings I saw on the surface were merely mineral deposits. I had my Icelandic hot springs experience!

Explore Iceland On Horseback

On Day 10 I woke intending to explore Reykholar on foot, but the wind and rain returned. We’d planned to go horseback riding at midday. Riding in the wind and rain for several hours didn’t appeal very much.

Fortunately, by the time we reached Dalahestar around 12:30, we decided to take a chance and booked a private 2-hour ride. Isabella, a guide from Poland, was the only ranch hand there, and after she finished her 11 a.m. ride, she asked about our experience as riders. When she learned we’d ridden quite a bit, she asked if we would like to do some galloping. Heck yes!

I had a lovely ride on a beautiful horse named Rekkur. His thick winter coat was already coming in, so soft! — I had a lovely ride on a beautiful brown horse named Rekkur. His thick winter coat was already coming in, so soft!

Embracing the Elements

When the wind picked up and the rain returned, Isabella loaned us durable weatherproof clothes. We helped her prepare the horses, and as we started away from the barn, we discussed reducing the ride to an hour if the rain continued.

Like magic, it stopped. Isabella let us gallop in three places, and she took us down to the black sand beach as the tide receded. The promise of a beach ride was why we chose Dalahestar in the first place. Isabella did not disappoint!

My daughter with her Iceland horse, Thytur. — My daughter enjoys a peaceful moment with her Iceland horse, Thytur.

The three of us with (left to right) Keyill, Thytur, and Rekkur on the black sand beach.

Gait Education

How those sturdy Icelandic horses navigate the gloppy mud without slipping is amazing. We learned that they have a few different gaits from most horses we’ve ridden before. Instead of trotting, these horses do what’s called a “tolt” where the front and back legs move together on each side, making for a lilting ride rather than a jolting bounce. And their gallop felt liberating and freeing — in short, amazing. Add to that hot cocoa and cookies to warm up afterward and it was a definite highlight!

Snaefellsnes Peninsula

On our way to tour the sites around the western part of the Snaefellsnes Peninsula, we stayed two nights in a lovely 2-bedroom Airbnb apartment known as the Writer’s Nest near a great pizza place, Kaffi 59. Located near Kirkjufell, or “Church Mountain”, it was by far our most spacious lodging while in Iceland.

Back home, I’d been given the Peninsula as one of the destinations to plan. Our daughter chose to stay in the apartment while my husband and I visited a few falls, birding spots, and tourist stops including taking the Saxholl Crater, Ytri Tunga to try to spot seals, and some stunning seaside scenery known as Longdrangar Basalt Cliffs, otherwise known as the “Rocky castle.” Londrangar gets my vote for the highlight of day 11.

Stunning scenery of the Longdrangar Basalt Cliffs, my highlight of day 11. — The stunning scenery of the Longdrangar Basalt Cliffs is a highlight of day 11.

Driving Takes a Toll

The day didn’t reach my expectations, the only day that didn’t. As we drove, I reflected on other international trips and how my mind would return home several days before the end. We still had a few things remaining on our list, but for the most part, Iceland had been a dream vacation.

Yet driving over 1200 miles in two weeks, staying in close quarters 24/7, and moving to a new place almost every night takes a toll. I felt grateful to have two nights at each of our last two Airbnb places.

So much of Iceland is mountainous volcanic terrain with spots of color, like this little building by itself.

Once we returned to the apartment, I stole an hour to clear my head and stretch my legs. It didn’t matter that our daughter chose to claim time for herself on a day I’d planned for all of us to enjoy. As an introvert, sometimes I need to carve out “me time.” She does, too, as a young adult. Driving trips can be a challenge. The one thing I might have changed would be to schedule half of a day for doing nothing. Personal choice.

Kirkjufells and Kirkufellsfoss

A long, restorative night’s sleep left me eager to explore before we left the Writer’s Nest. Despite strong winds and biting cold, I headed on foot for the twenty-minute walk to explore Iceland’s Kirkufellsfoss. I was not disappointed.

Not only did I see a moody sky over Kirkufells, but only two other photographers were out at 6 a.m. That meant getting a quality photo of the peak and falls, without a crowd of tourists in front of them. My 90-minute walk was the highlight of Day 12.

Moody dawn sky behind Kirkufell Mtn. and the falls.

Landscape shot of the falls and the peak. Which appeals to you more?

Reykjavik

Following that walk, we packed and headed toward Reykjavik for our final two nights. We made a few stops in search of golden plovers, taking our unique bird species for the trip to 53 with 30 new life birds for me.

Driving into the largest metropolitan area in Iceland felt a little like culture shock after being on the Ring Road for 12 days. We laughed at the sign indicating that tractors were not allowed on the highway between 7-9 a.m. and 3-6 p.m.

This sign says "No tractors allowed on the freeway between 7-9 a.m. and 3-6 p.m." — This sign says “No tractors allowed on the freeway between 7-9 a.m. and 3-6 p.m.”

Whale Watching

At long last, we finally had some calm, sunny, and beautiful weather on day 13. Just about perfect conditions for a three-hour whale-watching trip that featured two Minke whales, followed by time in Reykjavik. We found a lovely lighthouse where soft late afternoon sunlight illuminated an entire beach of golden plovers, waiting to be photographed.

One of two minke whales we saw on our 3-hour cruise.

Golden plovers basking in the sun on the beach.

But wait, there’s more. To top it off, we were graced by two nights of relatively clear weather, both of which allowed views of the northern lights. But on our final night in Iceland, the lights show rivaled the one we saw two years ago in Alaska. Unfortunately, I did not have the right setup to capture more than some crude streaks (they didn’t even get imported into Lightroom…)

The spectacular sunset on our last night left us grateful for two weeks to explore Iceland.

Still speaking after 1200 miles! That's a solid father-daughter relationship. — Still speaking after 1200 miles! That’s a solid father-daughter relationship.

Mt. Esja and Iceland Takeaways

Our final day to explore Iceland included visiting a thrift shop in Reykjavik, seeing several lighthouses south of Keflavik, and getting ice cream. Our direct flight trips to and from Iceland (about 7 hours each) went seamlessly. I’ve shared my highlight from our last day, a wonderful solo experience on Mt. Esja.

The biggest takeaways from two weeks in Iceland — there were so many — are these:

Iceland has something for everyone. Whether you like traditional tourist spots or unique experiences, identify what is most important to you and how you’d like to visit
Weather matters. If you allow more time and flexibility, you can move events around if you get bad weather. In the shoulder seasons (spring/fall) expect colder temperatures and wind, fewer tourists, and lower prices.
If you only have four days to explore Iceland, consider staying around Reykjavik or Akureyri. We are so grateful for the time and means to visit for two weeks.
While Icelandic food may not be well-known in other countries (like burgers from America or pizza from Italy) their Skyr, pizzas, fish and chips, and seafood are plenty accessible and tasty.
And finally, as is true anywhere you go, when traveling internationally don’t forget a SIM card! My daughter and I relied on Wi-Fi in the evenings, but my husband had a SIM so we could navigate and change plans on the fly.

Cooking in the bus at the foot of Mt. Esja. This was our most unique Airbnb stay while in Iceland.

Have you been to Iceland? What was your favorite part? Share in the comments. And if you like this post, please check out week one and Mt. Esja.

Fire and Ice: How to Explore Iceland, Week 1

To summarize two fabulous weeks in Iceland into one 1200-word blog post is an impossible ask. I shared one of the highlights in my 9.17 post about following inner guidance. When a client recently asked about my process (50 journal pages and 2000 photos later), I replied that every international trip is different. She got me thinking of a two-part blog topic: How might others explore Iceland if they have two weeks? Below are highlights from week 1, counterclockwise from Keflavik to Lake Myvatn.

Four Organizing Principles

Looking back on this trip, the four organizing principles around enjoying the Ring Road with my family included:

Get everyone involved in the planning stage so the trip would be engaging and stimulating for all three of us
Be as mindful and present as possible, which meant writing 50 (not 150) journal pages and getting sleep at night, not naps — we tend to go hard and experience as much as possible
Explore on foot, whenever possible (I did 6 solo morning excursions), to experience each region more completely
Highlight one event per day, to “file” 14 mental video snippets in a more orderly way

Using this organizational strategy, I will try to summarize 2000 photos and two fabulous weeks into two posts, as we made our way counterclockwise around the island.

If you get to explore Iceland, we recommend visiting each region as they're different. My favorite sunset shot over Lake Myvatn, to conclude day 6. — If you get to explore Iceland, we recommend visiting each region as they’re different. My favorite sunset shot over Lake Myvatn, to conclude day 6.

Explore Iceland: See an Erupting Volcano

On August 29, my husband, daughter, and I took an 11 p.m. direct flight from SeaTac to Reykjavik, arriving at 1:30 p.m. local time on my birthday. Jetlagged, we set out to explore Iceland, deciding that our highest priority (after picking up our rental car and getting a SIM card) was to see the Svartsengi fissure eruption before it ceased.

We drove south of Keflavik to about 3 km north of Grindavik (Zone 1 in the linked map above), close enough to smell sulfur and catch sight of fountains spewing lava about 100 feet high. To keep my camera steady in the 20-30 mph wind, I ducked into a depression several feet deep which made photos appear to be right above the earth. This was my first international eruption unless I count those on the big island of Hawaii. What a memorable birthday experience!

Svartsengi fissure eruption south of Keflavik airport and 3 km north of Grindavik, Iceland.

Atlantic Puffins on Vestmannaeyjar Island

If day one’s highlight was the fissure eruption, day two was Atlantic puffins. We’d specifically designed our trip around the Ring Road to go counterclockwise to see the puffins before they migrated south. A late morning ferry took us to Vestmammaeyjar Island (Westman Island, also referred to as “Puffin Island” in bird parlance.) We drove to Storhofdi, the southern tip, and braved increasing winds to enjoy hundreds of puffins outside their burrows.

Parent puffin (orange feet and beak) and offspring (left) before it headed inside their burrow for protection. — Parent Atlantic puffin (with orange feet and beak) and its offspring (left) before it disappeared inside the burrow for protection.

Wood Stove Pizza

Not only did we enjoy the puffins, but we also enjoyed the best pizza I’ve had in over a decade. Who knew, on a little island? Pitsugerdin is a local Italian pizzeria with a wood-burning oven and delicious, unique choices of pizzas. Part of the challenge we faced was we wanted to explore Iceland cuisine. We ordered one cheese and tomato, one sausage, Pepperoni, peppers, and cream cheese (below). I had heard that European flour is different from US flour; I didn’t even worry about it not being gluten-free. Sure enough, we had pizza four times in two weeks, and I didn’t experience gluten sickness a single time.

As the wind picked up, our hiking prospects disappeared in the clouds, so we arranged to catch an earlier ferry to the mainland. Several children had captured pufflings (immature puffins) that got disoriented and ended up in town; their parents released the birds off the back deck so they could make it to sea.

Our return trip should have taken roughly 30-40 minutes. The seas were so rough that we couldn’t dock in Landeyjahofn; instead, our captain added three hours to our journey to reach a more protected port, Þorlákshöfn. (Don’t ask me how to pronounce it.) Had we kept to our original plan, we would have been stranded on the island overnight.

Explore Iceland: Visit the Golden Circle

Still facing high gusting winds, day 3 featured the Golden Circle, a high-tourist drive out of Selfoss that included walks around Kerid Crater, through Thingvellir National Park (where two plates diverge as new land is created), the Geysir geothermal area, and Gullfoss waterfall. Many people wanting to explore Iceland will hit the Golden Circle in a few days on their way elsewhere.

We felt a little as though we were geyser snobs. We’ve seen Old Faithful at Yellowstone National Park, so we expected a little more from Strokkur, in Geysir, which erupts roughly every 6-12 minutes for about a second.

Beautiful waterfall in Thingvellir National Park. — Beautiful Oxararfoss waterfall in Thingvellir National Park.

Muddy Gullfoss "golden waterfall" with a rainbow. — Muddy Gullfoss, a “golden waterfall” with a rainbow.

Our winner for the most unique experience on Day 3 was dinner at Ingolfsskali, a traditional Viking longhouse near Selfoss. My husband tried fermented shark and ordered the lamb dinner; our daughter tried the fish, and I had fried duck confit with lentils and cherries. Worth trying once. And no, I didn’t try the shark but I did try a tiny bite of dried fish that came with his order. My claim to Icelandic food fame was having Skyr (Icelandic yogurt) every single morning.

Fried duck confit with kale, lentils, and cherries. Delicious.

Our daughter gets into character with traditional Viking attire.

South Iceland Ice

Day 4 was our longest driving day. We traveled from a hostel in Holmabaeir to a quaint green cottage at Skaftafell, enjoying the glaciers and spectacular waterfalls along the South Coast. In the morning, we climbed 467 stairs up to the top of Skogafoss in Katla Geothermal Park, spending about 75 minutes admiring three of the many falls along the lower stretch of the river.

The end of our Skogafoss visit. Our daughter got close to the spray and came back soaking wet. I chose to keep my down coat dry.

As we continued to explore Iceland, we added a stop at Katla Wool Studio, a local yarn shop in Vik; a grocery store for a replacement water bottle that didn’t make it into the car from the previous Air B&B; Jokulsarlon Lagoon for wonderful photographs; and Diamond Beach to explore ice fragments sculpted by waves on a black sand beach near the glacier lagoon.

By this time, one thing we learned was to procure groceries at the local Bonus (with a round pink pig) whenever we spotted them, as they’re only open from 10 a.m.-7 p.m. or, in some locations, 12-5 on Sundays. Our dinner at a local Hofn pub was a delicious surprise. We each got an order of their version of “nachos,” plank fries with cheese and bacon.

Hike Studlagil Canyon

Among the many highlights of week one, Day 5 may have been the most memorable. Not only did we see stunning eastern fjords landscapes, but we had a lovely four-mile round-trip hike through some of the most stunning geology I’ve ever seen.

Our daughter researched the south and east areas of Iceland and found a gem of a hike known as Studlagil Canyon. We had a turn-around time to get to our lodging near Egilsstadir for a homemade dinner, so we headed out briskly from the parking area to spend as much time as possible exploring.

Imagine the forces that sheared through rock to leave these columns in twisted angles.

Over many years, this fault-strewn valley has been carved by powerful water, leaving vertical basalt columns intact.

One picture simply could not do it justice, so I’ve shared four. While my husband and daughter scrambled low over the eroded columns near the river, I explored the high path to the upper falls before finding an easier path to join them by the “island” in the center (lower right photo.)

Another great look at what the shearing forces left behind.

Explore Iceland: Take in Lake Myvatn

Beyond Studlagil Canyon, near Lake Myvatn, we caught our breath, staying for two nights (days 6 and 7) an hour south of Husavik. High winds were so strong — whitecaps on ponds had us guesstimating 40 mph sustained with 50-60 mph gusts — that our whale-watching trip out of Husavik got canceled.

Lake Myvatn is an oasis for birds and has many volcanic features around the edge. A wonderful biking/walking path is being built around the perimeter.

That didn’t stop us from visiting the “Diamond Circle“, North Iceland’s tourist loop akin to Reykjavik’s “Golden Circle.” In particular, we stopped briefly at Dettifoss and then discovered another hidden gem, Asbyrgi Canyon. It’s a horseshoe-shaped canyon forty-five minutes from Husavik with basalt walls about 100 meters high.

When we first came into a clearing, I gasped in surprise, partly because the water was so still (unlike the gusts we’d experienced all morning), and partly because the waterfowl were enjoying the peaceful solitude of the emerald water.

On our return drive to Lake Myvatn on day 6, we stopped at Grjotagja Cave (a small lava cave of Game of Thrones fame) and decided to hold off visiting Godafoss the following morning when it wasn’t as windy.

The peaceful serenity of the protected Asbyrgi Canyon.

We took advantage of some much-welcomed downtime for the first time since we began our journey. Our second and third nights of pizza (this time from Daddi’s Pizza) had us enjoying a family game of Skip-Bo and shooting photos of a beautiful sunset (see above).

Week 1 Takeaways

Out of 2000 photos and 50 journaling pages, it’s hard to give my top five takeaways for someone wanting to explore Iceland, but I’ll do my best.

Iceland is a destination in its own right, not just a stopover to other places in Europe. We had originally planned to spend 4 days in Iceland on our way to France, but we had too many things we wanted to experience. Each region is unique. To get the whole experience, driving the Ring Road made sense. Two weeks felt perfect.
There are SO. MANY. WATERFALLS! We found ourselves looking for other features and experiences. At one point, my daughter said something to the effect of, “How many waterfalls do we have to see?” Yes, we saw the most popular ones, but as you can see, Iceland has so much more to offer than just waterfalls.
The people! We met wonderfully kind Iceland hosts – hearty people who pretty much do everything because they have to. The evening after visiting Studlagil Canyon, we checked into the Litlabjarg Guesthouse. Our hostess prepared a delicious home-cooked meal for us of breaded cod and potatoes, salad, and a coffee cake even I got to enjoy — with a scoop of ice cream. Afterward, we chatted with her for a good half-hour. Delightful!

A delightful family runs the Litlabjarg Guesthouse in the mountains.

Icelandic home-cooked meal after our Studlagil Canyon hike.

Birds – we were under the impression that most of the birds would have flown south by September. But we encountered 53 species (30 life birds) including several hundred Atlantic puffins.
Language — because Iceland has such a small population, almost everyone learns English. We had no problems communicating; I even practiced French with a Frenchman who knew little English!

More to Come…

Rested from our stay at Myvatn and ready to continue, we headed into week two to enjoy, among other things, a petting zoo, horseback riding, northern lights, a witchcraft and sorcery museum, whale watching, and a trip partway up Mt. Esja which I’ve already posted. Stay tuned!

Change in the Wild: How Nature Guides Personal Growth

My birthday outing at the end of August did not go as planned, but that’s what life consists of — plans B, C, or Z. As I hiked, I thought, “And THEN…” thinking up possible themes for another blog about change. I could write about “life is what happens when plans fall apart.” But that had such a negative slant to it. Instead, I embrace the idea that nature guides personal growth.

Dramatic skies from high on Mailbox Peak.

The Threat of Illness

Ever since my daughter saw pictures from Blanca Lake several years ago, we’ve wanted to hike it together. We intended to go for my birthday hike two days before our trip to Iceland, but I came down with a bad cold on Monday, the day before our target hike. I did everything I could think of to get better: hydrating, soaking in the hot tub, grounding, taking extra vitamins including C and Zinc, sucking on honey-infused cough drops, and going to bed early. My daughter agreed to the suggestion that I’d wake her if I felt like I could hike. Otherwise, she would sleep in.

On Tuesday, I had zero congestion. Excited about our hike, I checked on my daughter. She’d stayed up until 1:30, and when she learned it was raining, she curled up under her blankets. Partnerless, I considered my options. My first thought was exploring the east side of Squak. But I wanted to do something more memorable for my birthday. I left a note saying I would be at Exit 47 hiking to Pratt Lake.

The new Mailbox trail is a lovely meandering path through the forest. There's not much to see (and very few people on it) except fascinating trees until the trail merges with the steeper Old Trail. — The new Mailbox trail is a lovely meandering path through the forest. There’s not much to see (and very few people on it) except fascinating trees until the trail merges with the steeper Old Trail.

As I headed out the front door alone, Ajax tried to join me. I’ve decided to cap him at under 8 miles and less than 2000′ gain to protect his ailing left hind leg. When I scolded him and lured him back inside, he looked at me like I was ripping his nails off his claws. I couldn’t risk him reinjuring his leg two days before our Iceland vacation. That would not help HIS personal growth.

A Change in Destination

A big fender bender in downtown Seattle added more than 30 minutes to my travel time. Having left the house later than usual (I’d waited until the last possible second to wake my daughter), I got off at Exit 34 intending to try Teneriffe (13 miles/3,800′ gain, a desired mileage challenge on my physical journey to personal growth). But that hike is accessible from Exit 32 (oops), and I didn’t feel like backtracking. Faced with a choice between Granite Lake (which I’d already done twice this summer) or Mailbox, I chose the latter.

I pulled into the Mailbox trailhead parking lot around 8 a.m. Four cars sat in the upper lot and four more in the lower lots. In the fog and mist, I started up the new trail around 8:15. Now I just had to hit 9.4 miles and 4000′ elevation gain. By myself. Fortunately, the second time hiking solo felt better than the first on Tiger. With no bears.

Fall colors are beginning to turn on the boulder field, which gets more exposure.

All Kinds of Weather

The first part of the new trail on Mailbox is lovely, covered in Doug firs, cedars, and pines, so even in the wind, rain, and sleet I didn’t get too wet or cold. I kept my raincoat on for the first and last 1000′ of gain, stripping to a long-sleeved shirt for the 2000′ gain in the middle of the hike. A woman who left the parking lot just after I did caught up at the base of the boulder field. She turned back just as the wind and sleet increased.

I got lucky. The precipitation stopped when I was 300′ below the summit, gracing me with a beautiful rainbow. At the summit, I gratefully pulled out my down coat and enjoyed parting, swirling clouds and a pair of juncos foraging near me as I doctored a small blister and then ate some trail mix. The sleet had chased the last pair of hikers from the summit a few minutes before I arrived so I had the whole summit to myself.

A rainbow formed over North Bend near the summit of Mailbox, reminding me of the healing and personal growth one can experience in nature.

Smoother Sailing

The 5-mile return trip to the car reminded me of other recent hikes — the blue stains on rocks had me looking for blueberries and huckleberries, but I didn’t find any large clumps worth picking. I kept my eyes open for fall colors and saw brilliant red berries. It was still on the early side for the beautiful autumn display I know will come soon. I thought about my dog’s health, my daughter’s return to campus, my family’s upcoming vacation in Iceland, my journey with personal growth, and the exam results I might receive on my return.

As I often do, I chanted aloud, “I’m grateful for x.” It felt funny talking without Ajax there to hear me. Instead, I tried a new silent alphabet game that challenged me to come up with four things for each letter, such as “Annabelle is an Accountant from Anacortes who takes Acrobatic lessons.” Some of my creations made me laugh. It helped the solitary miles pass more quickly.

My birthday selfie with the infamous mailbox at the summit of Mailbox Peak on August 27th. The clouds gave it an atmospheric look.

Return to the States

Following two glorious weeks in Iceland, my return to the Pacific Northwest mountains left me with mixed feelings. On the one hand, I was delighted to have Ajax rejoin me on a shorter hike. I took him to Whittaker Wilderness, Shy Bear Pass, and Doughty Falls, a hike I’ve written about several times. (See Skills and Habits, April 2024; Take Action, August 2023; Expect the Unexpected, July 2023). He has been an enormous contributor to my personal growth over the past decade.

On the other, I faced post-vacation blues, worries about my new coaching venture, and concerns for both my dog’s health and my interrupted sleep (Iceland is seven time zones ahead of Seattle).

Ajax takes a short rest at Cougar's Whittaker Wilderness summit bench on September 17. — Ajax takes a short rest at Cougar’s Whittaker Wilderness summit bench on September 17.

Take-Aways

Perhaps I had faulty expectations that I’d feel recharged, invigorated, and ready to conquer the world after two weeks of vacation and passing my exam. Instead, I felt fatigue and fear. What now? Mistakes and failures are inevitable as I venture into uncharted territory on my journey to personal growth. But I don’t want to focus on those. Instead, I want to think about all the good that might be just around the corner. That makes me excited.

We make our reality. If we constantly focus on fear and worry, all we see will be things that make us fear and worry. If we focus on gratitude, we’ll find plenty of things to be grateful for. I want to focus on connections. On possibilities. On learning, and opportunities.

If you look for fear, you'll see it. If you look for love, you'll find it everywhere. Choose to focus on love, not fear. — If you look for fear, you’ll see it. If you look for love, you’ll find it everywhere. Choose to focus on love, not fear.

By writing my most recent post about quieting the negative critic and listening to my inner guidance, I shifted that tired, scared self into one who has quiet expectations for the future. Anything is possible. And the pages are waiting for me to fill them. I choose to look for love, not fear.

What’s more, now I get to share all of my wonderful Iceland memories. So let the storytelling begin – both about the trip and the next chapters of my life. As I always sign off with clients, Onward, upward, forward! If you have stories to tell about your personal growth, please include them in the clients. I love hearing from readers.

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.

Private property on the south side of Iceland. Imagine living at the base of a beautiful waterfall!

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.

Our glamping lodging for the final two nights in Iceland was the front third of the bus pictured above at the base of Mt. Esja, the high, spired point in the center of the photo. We were twenty minutes northeast of Reykjavik.

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.

The triangular patch of shale just above the rock band is where I met my turn-around time. I found the voice of my inner guidance on the way down.

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!

My hour-long journey took me 1000' up past the grass and "pyramid" rubble to just below the green "V" above the rock band. — My hour-long journey took me 1000′ up past the grass and “pyramid” rubble to just below the green “V” above the rock band.

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.”

A brilliant sunset at Lake Myvatn where we experienced some of the strongest winds -- sustained 40-50 with gusts up to 60 mph. — A brilliant sunset at Lake Myvatn where we experienced some of the strongest winds — sustained 40-50 with gusts up to 60 mph.

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.

Mt. Kirkjufell on the Snaefellsnes Peninsula. I took a solo early morning walk to photograph the mountain and waterfall without tourists.

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.