I also learned to be more confident, to trust my instincts more.

Lindsey Buckingham, the restless spirit and driving creative force behind Fleetwood Mac, once reflected upon his own journey: “I also learned to be more confident, to trust my instincts more.” In this simple yet profound admission lies the essence of growth—for no artist, no leader, no soul can reach greatness without first learning the discipline of confidence and the courage to trust instincts. He speaks as one who has wrestled with doubt, faced the judgment of others, and emerged with the understanding that the truest compass lies not in outward approval but in the inward voice that whispers what must be done.

The ancients would have understood him well. Did not Socrates insist that he carried within him a guiding voice, a divine sign, that urged him away from error? Did not the prophets of every age step forward, trembling, to speak words that no crowd would welcome, yet that burned within them like fire until they were released? To trust instincts is not arrogance—it is obedience to the spirit within. And to grow in confidence is to silence the clamor of fear and stand firmly in what one has been given. Buckingham’s journey echoes these eternal truths.

History is rich with such examples. Consider Joan of Arc, a peasant girl with neither training nor status, who heard the call of her visions and placed unshakable faith in them. Against all reason, she stood before kings and generals, leading armies into battle. Her confidence was not born of earthly power but of a fierce trust in her own guiding flame. Though betrayed and condemned, her instincts carried her beyond the fear of death, and her story endures centuries later. In her, as in Buckingham’s words, we see the pattern: trust your instincts, and though you may stumble, you will walk a path that is uniquely yours, and one the world cannot erase.

Buckingham’s life in music shows the same truth in a different realm. Fleetwood Mac’s greatest works—Rumours, Tusk—were born not of safe choices but of risks, of following instincts others doubted. He dared to bring raw, unconventional sounds into polished songs, to trust his inner ear even when it clashed with the expectations of industry or bandmates. Without that confidence, the music might have remained ordinary; with it, it became extraordinary, touching millions. Thus the artist’s struggle mirrors the universal struggle: whether in art, in war, or in daily life, progress belongs to those who dare to trust themselves.

The emotional weight of his words lies in their honesty. He does not say he was always confident, nor that instincts alone suffice without struggle. He says he learned—and that is the key. Confidence is not a gift bestowed at birth; it is forged in the fires of trial and error, in facing rejection and still rising again. To trust instincts is a lesson earned through experience, by discovering again and again that the inner voice, when honored, leads to strength, while its neglect leads to regret.

What, then, is the lesson for us? It is this: listen for the quiet guide within you, and when you hear it, honor it with courage. Do not be enslaved by fear of failure or hunger for approval, for both are chains. Be willing to risk, for risk is the price of authenticity. And when you falter—as all must—do not despair, but learn, as Buckingham did, to be more confident, to trust more deeply. In this way, each failure becomes a stepping stone to a truer life.

Practical actions follow. Begin by noticing your instincts in small matters: a choice of words, a path to take, a decision in your work. Follow them, and reflect on where they lead. Build confidence by taking risks, even modest ones, and learning that the world does not end when you fail. Seek silence often, for in stillness instincts speak most clearly. And above all, remember that growth is not a single triumph but a continual learning, a journey of becoming more yourself.

Thus Lindsey Buckingham’s reflection becomes a timeless teaching: that to live fully is to cultivate confidence and to trust instincts. These are not luxuries but necessities, for without them we drift like ships without rudders. With them, we move boldly, even through storm, knowing that our course is true, because it is our own.