Last week, I fulfilled a 25-year dream — walking the four-day Inca Trail to Machu Picchu.

But the first gift of the journey came before I ever left home.

The day before my flight, I was teaching an online class when I admitted to my group that I was worried — not about the altitude, the rain, or the tents (though all would prove memorable) — but about whether I could physically handle the trek.

I hadn’t prepared the way I “should have.” I’d done my normal workouts, but not the kind of conditioning a 26-mile climb through the Andes really asks of you.

The self-criticism started early: You should’ve trained more. You’re not ready. You’re going to fail.

And that’s when I caught it.

It wasn’t the fear of failing the trail that had me clenched — it was the fear of how I would treat myself if I did.

So I made a quiet agreement with myself:

If I need to rest, I’ll be kind.

If I fall behind, I’ll be kind.

If I don’t “perform,” I’ll still be kind.

Eureka. The terror eased.

Sometimes what we’re most afraid of isn’t what might happen — it’s how we’ll respond to ourselves if it does.

And that is something fully within our control.

Lesson #1: The View from the Back Is Beautiful

Our guide — whom we nicknamed “Mr. Miyagi” — had led the Inca Trail 643 times.

He was small in stature, big in wisdom, and moved with a rhythmic grace, trekking poles in hand, like a meditation in motion.

His only rule: Never let yourself get out of breath or overextended.

“Stay your pace,” he said.

We did. Slow, deliberate, steady — “wax on, wax off.”

Dozens of trekkers sped by us that first day.

But hours later, we’d pass them again — exhausted, red-faced, gasping for air.

The tortoise and the hare came to life on those ancient stones.

For the first time in a long while, I saw the gift of the slower lane.

I wasn’t missing out by not “rushing” or “winning.”

The view from behind was stunning.

Life isn’t a race to be won.

She who wins is the one who enjoys it the most.

Lesson #2: Live in Ayni — “Today for You, Tomorrow for Me.”

The Quechua people of the Andes live by a philosophy called Ayni — sacred reciprocity.

If your neighbor needs help building a home, you help. No payment, no tally. Just:

“Today for you, tomorrow for me.”

It’s not transactional; it’s relational.

And it reminded me that true leadership — and true wealth — are built in community, not independence.

Lesson #3: Trust the Moment You’re In

By day two, I caught myself asking our guide,

“What’s coming tomorrow?”

“When will we see a bathroom again?”

Reasonable questions — but behind them was a habit of control.

I realized I’d been living like this for years — forecasting, future-tripping, bracing.

By day three, I decided to practice something new.

I’d trust myself to handle whatever came when it came.

No more pre-solving problems that didn’t exist yet.

When you learn to be with the unknown, calm enters.

Self-trust builds.

Worry doesn’t prevent pain — it only prevents peace.

And the more you teach yourself presence, little by little, you stay there.

Lesson #4: One Step at a Time Is Always Enough

At times, the trail felt endless — steep stone stairs that seemed to touch the sky.

When I looked too far ahead, it felt impossible.

So I practiced something simple:

Don’t look at the mountain. Look at your next step.

Over and over again, that was enough.

It turns out, it always is.

Lesson #5: Connect with Something Larger

By day three, the mountains themselves seemed to hum.

Energy, Source, Nature, God — whatever you call it — was palpable.

I found myself in tears more than once, moved by the sacredness of it all.

There’s something about walking 26 miles through the clouds that resets your nervous system.

It strips away the noise, the striving, the illusion of control — until what’s left is simply you and Life itself.

When you allow yourself to slow down, to trust, to be present, you begin to feel more connected — to nature, to others, and perhaps most importantly to yourself.

When I returned home, my husband took one look at me and said,

“You’ve changed.”

He didn’t need to say how.

I knew.

The Inca Trail gave me many gifts.

But the greatest was remembering what’s always been true:

Life isn’t about racing to the top.

It’s about being present for the climb.

Everything’s going to be ok.

You’re already on sacred ground.

Your Invitation to Reflect

Where in your life might you be rushing to the top — missing the view from where you are?

What would shift if you treated yourself with kindness, no matter the outcome?

Could you trust that one step at a time really is enough?

Because maybe, just maybe…

The point was never to complete or “win” the trail —

But to walk it with your whole heart.

With warmth and wonder,

~Rita

“Tension is who you think you should be, relaxation is who you are.”

~Chinese Proverb

In a conversation with my husband, I shared that I had missed a deadline to sign up for one of my kid’s activities, was behind on a work commitment, and was hyper-aware of all that needed to be accomplished before an upcoming event I was co-hosting.

I was noticeably hard on myself as I judged my lack of productivity and efficiency over the previous weeks.

My husband looked at me disturbed and said, “I wish you weren’t so hard on yourself.” I recall looking back at him with an inquisitive — ‘What? That’s-how-you-get-life-done’ kind of look.

Later I sat down to think about what he’d said. Being hard on myself was a way I had used to motivate myself for years. It was so automatic that I didn’t notice all the ways I was rough on myself — I pushed myself to work long hours, follow through on commitments to others while breaking ones to myself, and made myself go faster when I really needed to slow down. Thinking about it made me both tired and sad. Now I noticed how this relentless pressure on myself didn’t just affect me. It was negatively influencing those around me as well. I knew I had work to do — and it wasn’t on my missed deadlines.

Perhaps you can relate.

As a leader, you’re no stranger to high expectations. Perhaps you too push yourself to perform extraordinarily, demand the best, and hold yourself accountable at every turn.

But here’s a truth that high achievers overlook: self-criticism doesn’t fuel success – self-compassion does.

Too often, we equate self-worth with achievement, believing that if we push harder, we’ll finally feel “enough.”

But what if the way you’ve been taught to succeed is the very thing that keeps you from what you truly want?

What if the real key to sustainable success, a meaningful life, and great leadership isn’t more pressure, but more grace?

The most effective leaders aren’t the ones who are always productive and never fall; they’re the ones who rise and lead with self-trust, resilience, and self-kindness.

Here are ways to lead with more self-compassion…

Call it – Acknowledgement is powerful. The critic is a bully that we set up to motivate us and loses its density when we name it.
Reframe the mistake – Instead of dwelling on mistakes, ask yourself, “What can I learn from this? And what do I want now?” Then move forward with self-trust.
Reassure yourself – Self-soothe with one or two words in those moments you feel the pressure on yourself. “You’re OK,” “It’s OK” or “Soften” are a few I use. Find the one that speaks to you.
Prioritize rest as much as productivity – The best leaders know that their energy is their greatest currency. They take care of their most valuable asset. How often do you give yourself permission to pause and refuel?

Notice the personal and professional advantages that play out as you focus on self-compassion this week. It’s important because others are watching you!

All my best,

~Rita

P.S. Discover new ways to practice living to your potential and a deeply meaningful life. Schedule a Session to talk with me about getting your inner game advantage!

Tag Archive for: Self-Compassion

The Gifts I Found Walking the Inca Trail