As I approach some hard new challenges, the accompanying emotional highs and lows feel disorienting. I’m reminded of something my spiritual coach says: “The closer you get to the gates, the louder the lions roar.” By this, she means that our internal resistance (aka the ego) tries to protect us from failure, falling, impostor syndrome, and mistakes. However, this protection can hinder personal growth. As author Jeannette Stawski pointed out Saturday at the Mountaineers clubhouse, we need to train ourselves to embrace detours and setbacks. Failures can be our best teachers — if we have the right mindset.
Japanese Gulch: Lessons from the Trail
On Tuesday, I had to choose between snowshoeing, doing a long hike, or taking Ajax with me to scout a new place for a possible Mountaineers trip. Since he hadn’t been on a hike with me since Thanksgiving morning, I opted for the third choice. We visited the Japanese Gulch near Mukilteo.
My first impression (after realizing we had the park mostly to ourselves) was that hiking anywhere but the park perimeter could be hazardous in summer, not only to hikers but also to bikers. Staying on the wider perimeter trail, therefore, might work.
On a foggy, freezing morning, we left the car around 8:30. This was my first time using AllTrails. I’m glad I had it, as there are plenty of side trails for bikes, and no signs in the Gulch except one that showed the creator’s sense of humor: “Feel the Pain” with a black diamond. The trail it referenced was a steep zig-zag switchback for mountain bikes which we avoided.
Ferry horns blared through the fog. A steam engine chugged past. And low-flying planes heading for Payne Field buzzed overhead, startlingly close. This was not the peaceful hike I had expected. Nevertheless, we encountered few people. Solo hiking constantly reminds me that life’s path is full of surprises and is rarely linear. We expect, “If this, then that.” However, obstacles often present themselves without warning. Fortunately, we could embrace detours and still find our way out of the park.
TAKEAWAY: When you come across the next muddy section in your life, take a step back and look for the unexpected beauty. What if you could find the teacher, and the lesson, within each failure?
Embrace Detours: Overcome Impostor Syndrome
A companion I wish would move to Timbuktu is my omnipresent frenemy, Impostor Syndrome. You know, that fear that you’ll be “found out”, that people will discover you aren’t who you pretend to be.
At Saturday’s leadership conference, I spoke with a woman who worked closely with writers and editors on the Mountaineers: Freedom of the Hills Tenth Anniversary Edition. I developed the conditioning chapter for editions 7-9 but wasn’t invited to help with edition 10. My cruel inner voice convinced me I’d been “found out” and was no longer wanted. This unwanted obstacle lasted several weeks.
Freedom of the Hills 10th Edition
The Mountaineers recently made it their mission to focus on diversity, equity, and inclusion so everyone can access the mountains. When my colleague explained that the committee went with all new, fresh writers and editors for the tenth edition, I had an aha moment. Curious, I headed for the Mountaineers bookstore to see what my beloved chapter four looked like.
My hard work over the past 15 years remains intact, much to my delight. The editors added a few pictures of new stretches for rock climbers, along with some gender-specific material. When my colleague used the word “legacy” for my work, I could finally rewrite the lies my harsh inner critic told me; in other words, I began to recognize my true value
TAKEAWAY: What false narratives are you telling yourself? How might you reframe or rewrite them to be more truthful and supportive? A helpful exercise is to ask 3-5 close friends, coworkers, or colleagues what they’d identify as your top strengths. What do they value that you might take for granted? How can you integrate those into an understanding of your unique gifts?
Embrace Detours: Leadership Skills I Still Need
I have been enjoying the Seattle Mountaineers’ outdoor leadership development series. Wednesday I attended an online seminar offered by Moose Mutlow. Mutlow is a senior trainer and family liaison officer for Yosemite Search & Rescue. He talked about how to help people in the mountains who have witnessed a disaster and are confronting shock.
As he spoke, my heart started racing and I felt myself shutting down. What would I do if I came across a grizzly accident where someone had died? How could I help? WOULD I be able to help? That old impostor syndrome roared: Who am I to think I have any business leading others in the mountains? How could anyone embrace detours of such magnitude as death in the mountains?
Self-Care First
His answer to my question was profound in its simplicity. The very first principle of First Aid is to check the scene to make sure it’s safe to enter. That means taking care of ALL OF YOURSELF FIRST, physically, emotionally, and mentally. If helping someone else means that you’re putting yourself in harm’s way, find another way to help. I had my takeaway nugget and my heart rate slowed.
Online and in-person leadership classes inspire me to see leadership not as perfection or becoming superhuman, but simply as a willingness to keep learning, connecting, and showing up. Even when self-doubt lingers, progress comes from practicing resilience and gaining experience. By having a better idea of what you might encounter — like tragedy — you can plan what to do. Like calling on a chaplain to help notify the next of kin.
TAKEAWAY: If you are curious about something, whether that is leading a trip, trying a new activity, working at a different company, or traveling to an exotic country, do some research. Talk to someone who has done that thing. Learn more about the good and bad elements. Explore wherever your curiosity takes you. If you’d like to hike 10 miles in 2025, consider which hike you want to add to your list. What might be in your way? With the destination in mind, you can create a step-by-step plan to overcome obstacles to get there.
Get Back to Basics with Atomic Habits
My husband and I were recently discussing business development. I realized I was focusing on obstacles rather than looking for solutions. I got so sick of hearing myself say, “Yeah, but…” that I created a contract to change my behavior. It’s worked before, why not this time? I committed to one hour a day in December, five days a week, focusing on developing connections within my businesses. When I wrote it down, something clicked. In my willingness to embrace detours, I stumbled across a process goal!
During times of uncertainty, we do ourselves a big disservice if we focus on outcome goals. Small, consistent, daily actions — things you have complete control over — can help you override old habits (like complaining, eating chocolate, or saying “Yeah, but…”).
I also found another way to stay on the path: I’ve agreed to be an accountability partner to one of my clients who wants to read James Clear’s book, Atomic Habits. Two years ago I shared his book as a useful tool for setting intentions and building new pathways toward thriving.
TAKEAWAY: Is there something you wanted to do in 2024 but haven’t gotten around to it? What five-minute action might you do to bring you closer to your goal? What would it be like to start today? You can have several hours amassed and a habit already established well before 2025!
Embrace Detours As the Journey
Detours and setbacks are where the real growth happens. If we’re not making mistakes, we are not testing ourselves. We’re missing opportunities to expand outside our comfort zone. Whether on a literal trail or in life, each twist is an opportunity to recalibrate and move forward.
Detours this week included hitting a dead end that led to spotting a coyote at Twin Ponds. I also came down with a cold which meant removing myself from a hike I was looking forward to. Yet the special excursions that may have exposed me to a virus this week – a WTA trail work party at Kasch Park, the Mountaineers outdoor leadership conference, and a Choir of the Sound concert — were all important to me and worth attending. I’ll take the cold as a price to pay for great experiences. Perhaps providing massive self-care at the start of a harried holiday season will mean more enjoyment in a few weeks.
TAKEAWAY: What would your inner child like to do this holiday season? Have hot chocolate by a fire? play in the snow? go ice skating or caroling? put up a new type of decoration? What does the young child within you yearn to experience, play with, do, or see? What would it feel like to carve out thirty minutes to do something you used to love? If you have young children or grandchildren, how might you plan an experience that will provide you with memories of a lifetime, and still embrace detours that arise?
Share your takeaways in the comments! I love hearing from readers. Happy Holidays!