I had an especially vivid dream last night. It was full of longing and fear. I spent the morning questioning my life choices, who I am, why I am, the nature of the universe, and all of that jazz. In the end, after the requisite existential crisis faded, I felt like I had a little better understanding of my psyche.
Iím not sure if thatís the case.
There is one question that really drives me crazy. It has to do with what we call might call intuition, the gut, or instinct. That thing that tells us to turn right, when we know perfectly well that the shortest route is to the left. The little voice that pipes up with, ďso-and-so is about to call,Ē right before the phone rings. Most importantly, it tells you about people. Well, it tells me about people.
Iím not a mind-reader type, Iím a ďI understand your nature,Ē type, and maybe a couple of other things.
The thing is, just like the times when it nudges me to turn right, when I know perfectly well that the shortest route is to the left, the intuition is sometimes in opposition to my knowledge of the world.
Then later, I might discover that there was a 20 car pile up, isolated ice-storm, and 5 old ladies crossing at every intersection using walkers, and against the light, along that shorter route. This is especially likely if I went the ďknowledgeĒ route and ignored the ďintuitionĒ route. Things like this have led me to think, ďMaybe there is something to this whole intuition thing.Ē
But, sometimes, it doesnít work out that way. The intuition seems to be wrong, and I change my mind about it, but given time, almost impossibly, it works out to be right. Itís just that my estimation of time was off.
Itís like this whole thing is designed to mess with a personís head.
Itís given me a bizarre faith, similar to the Christian faith in God, as in, ďYou donít have to understand why something happens, just know that itís working out in the best way possible, because He said so.Ē Or something like that.
So, when I follow the olí intuition, and it seems to bite me in the butt, I can either choose to question my intuitive abilities or I can assume that things are working out, but not in the expected way.
Honestly, my intuition has been crap, lately. It seems like the older I get, the fainter it gets, but I think thatís partly because there are things that I take for granted, and theyíve stopped making an impression on me.
Oddly, meditation seems to kill it. You would think that would make it stronger. If I were to guess, maybe itís less acute after meditation because Iím calmer, and I donít feel like I need to be on red-alert, all the time, anticipating the next thing that might happen.
This has been coming up for me a lot, lately, because a few years ago, I made a big decision, and I made it by listening to my head, and ignoring my heart. I went with what made sense, and ignored the intuition.
On some level, I believed it didnít matter, Iíd find my way back to my path. I believed it to be inevitable. Now Iím not so sure. Now I think itís possible to wander the wrong road forever. Forever slogging through 20 car pile-ups, ice storms, and waiting for old ladies, crossing against the light.
So, for the past few years, Iíve been waiting for the other shoe to drop (where the hell does that expression come from, anyway?)
If youíre reading this, and youíre anything like me, youíre thinking to yourself, ďDear God, please just give some specifics, all this vague talk is driving me crazy!Ē
I am vague because I feel racked with guilt about it. This is why it haunts me even more.
My subconscious betrays me, and brings it back periodically, in dreams. As soon as I wake up, I have the overwhelming feeling that the dream was a sign that I did the wrong thing. Once Iím fully awake, I can rationalize it into something more manageable.
If my intuition is correct, that means I am impatient, cowardly, disloyal and Iíve disrupted my life path, and the life paths of countless others.
If itís incorrect, it means Iím just crazy.
Of those two options, I most often go with Ďcrazy.í The reason is probably obvious.
Iím writing about it now because Iím hoping that getting it out, at least some of it out, will make me feel a bit better. I guess thatís the whole purpose of diaries, isnít it?
|Friday, Jun. 17, 2011 at 11:51 PM|