What does your gut tell you?

Lately, I’ve been encountering a problem when I mentor others.  During mentoring, I try to follow a very Rogerian approach, choosing to let others talk through the problems they are facing, as opposed to providing direct advice.  Like the fallen Jedi Kreia, I feel that sometimes you may inadvertently rob someone of a growing experience if you provide too much help, and so sometimes, you need to let others trip, fall, and get back up.

The problem I have found, however, is that fear of the unknown may stunt others from even thinking about the consequences of their actions.  And so, when I ask people: “What do you think you should do?,” I’m often met with a blank stare, often times succeeded by the phrase: “I don’t know.”

What I’ve resorted to asking (with odd success) is: “What does your gut tell you?” On countless occasions, this has helped my mentees at least utter what they’re thinking of doing.  It’s almost as if relinquishing agency to an external entity (even if it’s a conscious-less object) makes the process of detaching and objectively evaluating yourself even easier.  Admittedly, relinquishing agency could be thought of as what people are doing when they solicit advice on what to do next, but what’s interesting is that in this case it’s completely imagined; maybe people think that their gut is actually telling them something?  Maybe it is easy to abdicate the choice point, so as to not take direct responsibility for the consequence of the decision.

What does your gut tell *you*?