The Way Knows the Way
Have you ever gotten a call from somewhere deep inside yourself? A gut feeling that made absolutely no sense to your logical mind? Or simply known something without being able to explain how you knew it?
Have you ever wondered if those moments meant you were being irrational? Or worse, if you admitted them out loud, people might quietly wonder if you'd lost your grip on reality? It's an odd thing to worry about in such an "evolved" society.
But perhaps we're not quite as evolved as we'd like to believe.
Or perhaps our evolution has come at a cost.
This sort of thing has happened to me my entire life. When I was younger, I rarely spoke about what I was feeling or intuiting. Even into adulthood, I found myself making important decisions based on what I can only describe as a deep knowing. It was frustrating because I couldn't always explain those decisions in ways that satisfied other people—or even myself.
Take my divorce. I could give reasons, of course. Rational reasons. But they never told the whole story. There was something underneath the words, quietly insisting that it was time to go.
At the time, I didn't have language for that experience. No one had told me there was another way of knowing besides thinking. I hadn't yet learned that there are parts of ourselves we've slowly been taught to ignore—through education, culture, or simply the pace of modern life.
Lately I've been listening to a song called The Way Knows. It admittedly drives Rob a little crazy. It's not a pop song, an old favorite, or even mellow background music. It's more of a chant rooted in Pagan and Shamanic traditions. One line repeats over and over:
"You don't need to know the way... the way knows the way."
At first it sounds almost redundant.
The way knows the way.
But the more I sit with it, the less I think it's talking about destiny. I don't believe our lives are completely predetermined. I think our souls are far more creative than that.
Instead, I wonder if it's pointing toward trust.
Perhaps our soul chooses a direction rather than a script. And every choice we make changes the landscape ahead. The path unfolds not because we can see every step, but because we're willing to listen when something deep within us whispers, This way.
Sometimes that whisper makes no logical sense.
Sometimes it asks us to disappoint people.
Sometimes it asks us to leave behind what is comfortable in order to become who we haven't yet met.
I've learned that those quiet inner nudges have rarely led me astray.
Next week, I'll be following one of them once again as I return to Scotland—not for a vacation, but for seven days of advanced training in Shamanic Practices. It isn't a trip I can fully justify with spreadsheets or logic. It's simply another place where the path has quietly said, "Come this way."
And after all these years, I've learned that sometimes the wisest thing I can do is trust that...
...the way knows the way.
Are you looking to remember?
Explore our workshops that invite connection, reflection, and your own path of becoming: https://www.theriverrunsthrough.com/workshops