I have never regretted following the voice that says ‘I know I am going to do this’. I know I am going to get on that stage and sing. I know I am going to go to that event. I know I am going to change careers. I know I am going to work with this person. I know I am going to have that conversation I have been avoiding. I have certainly regretted the times I pushed that voice down. As I write we have just entered the half-month of Sowilo, the rune of the Sun. The guide, the compass, the navigator. The Sun is known as Sunna’s Chariot and whenever I doubt myself I think of Sunna riding with joy, determination and focus through the skies of the many worlds. In my mind’s eye she is shouting with delight with her gaze fixed firmly on the course ahead and her hands guiding her horses with grace and grit.
I don’t think I’m special or unique in having instinctive moments of knowingness. I am perhaps lucky in having an accompanying faith in something bigger than me: it’s easier to take risks when you think the universe has your back. What I have learned, however, is that the more you follow your instinct, the stronger its voice gets. Every time you shut it out that flicker of knowing gets just a little bit quieter. Until one day the hand of fate steps in and throws a curve ball to get you back on track. When that moment happens we get a chance to tune back in. Some people call these periods dark nights of the soul (see the Nauthiz rune for more on that). Something unexpected, heavy, loss-filled and mind-changing occurs. All the chatter we thought was so important becomes just a background murmur in a bigger narrative. Perhaps a better term would be the dark silence of the soul where the knowing voices we’ve been tuning out get a chance to be heard.
Following your knowing voice is not easy. It is an heroic choice. Often it requires us to do things that others don’t expect. It may require us to invest time and money in something others do not value. Because our knowing choices are often hard they can bring up past woundings (fear, anger, guilt) and prompt us to act like the warrior rather than the hero (sound defensive much as you argue your case in your head and shout at the first person who questions what you’re doing?). Be gentle with yourself. It is fine to make your choice quietly, peaceably and slowly. It is more than fine to process all the wounding that rose to the surface when your beautiful, golden choice rose out of the waves of your deep, deep mind. It is fine, even, to fail at your choice – my voice cracked, I flunked the interview, she took it all wrong. Because more important than one single event in your life is the bond you are forming with your knowing self. Your compass, your navigator, the steward who still holds in her mind’s eye the heroic soul journey you glimpsed on the horizon before you took your first human breath.