Trust Your Instincts.

That’s what my colleague said to me yesterday over lunch.

“Trust Your Instincts.”

We were halfway through an all-day offsite facilitation. She was a (reluctant) participant; I was (mostly) observing a new consultant who was doing the facilitation.

“Your insight is so incredibly astute. I just want to encourage you, when in doubt, go with your gut.  Trust. Your. Instincts.”

We sat at a table outside;  her with her sandwich and chips and me with my grilled vegetables and snap peas and hard-boiled eggs. The sun warmed our backs as she spoke slowly and deliberately.  She shared examples of when she has seen me lead a roomful of people in a common direction, after they started out disparate.  She reminded me of a time when I pushed someone to take a risk in a group discussion, and another time when I didn’t push but allowed for space, and she pointed out how both choices proved wise in the end.  She told me comments other people had made to her about me;  how much they appreciated my presence and skills.

These were no ordinary compliments.  They were spoken from careful consideration, as a result of some tough (some might say brutal) work that I have been doing with a few people this colleague knows well. It’s been a long road, and we are not home yet.

But this colleague respects the power of words like few others, and she knew the effect that they were having on me.  She gave me some time to process what she said. Her words echoed in my spirit for the rest of the day, and here I am still thinking about them, trying to squeeze as much courage and faith and power from them as I possibly can.

Not because I want you to think I’m wicked awesome at my work, but because it was one of those moments when I didn’t realize I needed to hear something until I heard it.

Her comments reminded me of something that happened last year right around this time, when the older hobbit fell off his bike and hurt his wrist. It was broken in a few places, and one break in particular meant that he would have to wear a hard cast and thus wouldn’t be able to play soccer for 6 weeks.  He was devastated.

When I looked at the x-ray, I didn’t see the break that the doctor described as the one requiring the cast, so I asked if the cast was really necessary. We went back-and-forth for a while, the doctor and I, and finally agreed to do an MRI and let it decide. When the MRI results came back,  there was no break.

This is not a post about doctors being wrong, although that happens.  It’s about the idea that if I hadn’t trusted my instincts, my son would have missed half his soccer season.  When I went with my gut, I gave my son hope, and when he found out that he could play with a soft bandage, the look on his face was unforgettable.

So today I go forth, with my trusted associate’s words reverberating throughout my head and the picture of my son’s overjoyed face in my heart, and I trust myself a little more.  May you do the same.

In your next moment of self- doubt, when you are tempted to second-guess yourself or to not speak up– or when you are tempted to talk to fill the silence, to push or not push, to do or not do- trust your instincts.

Have a little faith in you.

Do what you would do, if you knew what to do.

What does your gut tell you?

Are You Leading The Life You Want?