Listening For the Soul's Voice - Finding Guidance Within
- Oct 22, 2025
- 3 min read
After the unraveling that I referred to in my last article, and the loneliness had stripped away what no longer fit, there came a quieter stage — one that didn’t look like transformation at all. It looked like stillness. That is where we find the guidance within.
You may not feel ready to create or rebuild. You may not feel ready for anything. You just know that the old ways of pushing and performing don’t work anymore. Something deeper is asking for your attention — something small, steady, and real.
For me, it began as a whisper. Not a voice I heard with my ears, but one I felt inside my body. It would rise in the moments between effort — in a sigh, a tear, a pause I almost ignored. Sometimes it came as a pull toward beauty: the way light moved across the floor, the hum of a color calling me to paint. Other times it came as exhaustion, reminding me to rest.
At first, I didn’t trust it. I was used to external voices — experts, teachers, healers — telling me what to do next. But this voice was different. It didn’t instruct. It invited. It didn’t demand. It waited.
Listening to the soul's voice is not like following a plan. It’s like attuning to a frequency that’s been playing all along, just beneath the noise of daily life. You start to notice it in quiet moments: when you stop scrolling, stop striving, stop trying to make sense of what hasn’t yet revealed itself.
The soul speaks through sensation. It doesn’t use words as much as feeling, image, rhythm. It shows up in goosebumps, in tears that arrive for no reason, in the sudden urge to move your hands or hum or reach for color.
That’s how it began for me. One day, after weeks of silence, I found myself gathering brushes. There was no grand plan, no concept to paint. I just needed to move the energy in my body. I dipped into color, and something inside me exhaled. I wasn’t trying to make meaning — I was letting meaning find me.
That’s what listening does. It softens the space between doing and being. It helps the body and soul begin to recognize each other again.
The more I listened, the more I could feel my life beginning to breathe.
Picking up a brush again
We’re taught to doubt this kind of knowing — to look for answers outside of ourselves, to measure progress by what we can prove. But the soul doesn’t operate in logic. It speaks in symbols, sensations, synchronicities. It’s less about being told what to do and more about remembering how to be with what is.
Listening for the soul’s voice is an act of devotion. It asks for patience. For presence. For the courage to trust that what you feel is enough.
If you are in that tender space — not quite sure what’s next, but aware that something within you is stirring — trust that. Your soul is trying to find its rhythm again. Let it hum softly through your day. Notice what moves you, what draws you closer to life. Follow those threads. They are not distractions; they are directions.
There is a wisdom that lives inside you that no book or teacher can give. It’s ancient, personal, and deeply alive. It doesn’t shout. It whispers.
All it asks is that you listen.
If you’re learning to hear your own soul again — through art, through silence, through small acts of truth — know that you’re already on the path. I’ll be sharing more about how creativity became the bridge back to my inner voice, and how listening changed everything.
By DK Hillard, artist and sacred guide, whose Soul Woven© work explores the threads of healing, creativity, and embodiment. She facilitates transformative art journeys through Paint From Your Soul Classes, retreats and other intuitive practices that help women return to themselves. Join her list at www.dkhillard.com to be notified when new sessions open.
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