Walking Beyond the Self: How The Way Prepared Me for hiking the Great Glen Way

Veronika Robinson writes: True guidance does not pull us along a path; it simply walks beside us until we recognise the stillness within our own steps.

Exactly a year ago, my feet were pressing into the soft, mossy ground of the Scottish Highlands. My friend Angela and I were walking The Great Glen Way, a physical undertaking that quickly came to mirror an internal landscape. Armed with heavy backpacks, mine containing four litres of water, snacks, and a long list of items we were told were vital, we set off in unforgiving 30C sunshine.

So many soul-stirring moments, like this, have become unforgettable memories.

Sweat poured, and muscles ached. I’m sure I moaned more than was necessary! Our daily average of ten miles felt monumental under the intense heat. That's without factoring in any hills! Very quickly, we realised that survival and comfort required a dramatic shedding of weight. Day by day, we began discarding the non-essential gear we’d been told to carry, editing our burdens down to the barest basics. Every discarded item felt like a step closer to freedom, proving how little we truly need when the path becomes demanding.

Rock-heavy backpacks!

The rhythm we found on that path became our grounding. We walked through ancient woodlands, across sunlit earth, and along the edges of quiet lochs. Our days stretched out in a beautiful, natural balance of shared silence, rich laughter, and deep, soul-led conversation. Patience and love guided our steps. Angela was my walking companion, but she had also been my mentor during my time on The Way with Open Sanctuary.

Up, up, up! "Are we nearly there, yet?"

Completing that online exploration of inner stillness prior to our trek changed how I met the physical trail. The internal work of the course had already reminded me of the power of presence, reverence, and relationship. Standing on that hot Scottish trail, the parallel between the two experiences became unmistakable.

Spiritual journeys often begin with heavy luggage. We carry old beliefs, inherited expectations, and dogmas that we think are required to navigate life. We weigh ourselves down with tools that belong to someone else.

As a moss lover, the huge expanses of moss were a joy to behold.

Engaging with the reflections on the course gave me dedicated space to pause, and begin the necessary work of editing down my inner life. I began tossing out the redundant emotional weights to find a clearer, simpler way to move forward. I had no idea at the time that this deliberate shedding would prepare me for the physical reality of walking the Great Glen Way, where carrying unnecessary weight is just not an option.

Walking with Angela as my mentor, through the landscape of the human soul and then, later, as a friend along those long dirt tracks, changed how I viewed the horizon. The deep listening we shared beneath sunny skies is precisely what Open Sanctuary fosters through its community care and reflective paths. We allowed the stillness of the towering trees, and the presence of the reflective waters, to hold space for our words and equally our silence.

As the physical miles accumulated, the external trail began to dissolve into an experience of non-duality. The distinction between walker and pathway faded. We were not separate from the ancient mosses, the sunlit leaves, or the shimmering surfaces of the lochs; rather, we were a continuation of the environment itself. In the heart of that realisation lies a profound sense of kindness: a gentle, non-judgmental acceptance of our physical limitations, our fatigue, and our shared humanity.

A peaceful walk along a canal as we left Fort William.

Kindness was found in the quiet moments when we adjusted each other's packs, shared our snacks, or simply allowed the silence to rest between us without any need to fill it with speech. Stillness is not merely the absence of movement; it is the deep, immovable core we carry within ourselves, even whilst our feet are moving across miles of rough terrain.

And still the path rises!

Shedding the excess allows room for clarity and inner resilience to grow. Stripping away the non-essential enables us to connect with our core values, moving through the world with a lighter, more intentional step. Both the course and the mountain path reminded me that love is not the work of the mind, but an effortless state of being that remains when everything else is removed. The truest journey is not about what we gather along the way, but what we are willing to leave behind.

Dinner by the tranquil shores of Loch Ness at day's end.

As you navigate the complex terrain of your inner life, who is holding space for you, and how are you practising kindness toward your own limitations?

If you'd like to learn more about The Way, visit

https://www.opensanctuary.uk/the-way-open-sanctuary