The intuitive mind is a sacred gift and the rational mind is a faithful servant. We have created a society that honors the servant and has forgotten the gift.
There is a voice deep inside you that is speaking to you right now. It is telling you of your truths, of your deepest desires, of thing you’ve forgotten you know. Are you listening?
Before I became pregnant with Ben, I thought I was paying attention to my intuition and in many ways, I was. I trusted it when it told me to walk down one street and not another at night. I listened when it told me to move to California, to stay with my husband when things fell apart, to go back to school. But I ignored it too – when it whispered that I didn’t want that next glass of wine, or piece of cake. When my body ached to express itself through movement and I decided that was part of my past. When I clung desperately to habits that I knew were not in line with who I wanted to be and the life I wanted to live.
Then there was Benjamin.
My son taught me life-altering lessons in the 5 months he lived and grew inside me. He showed me the power of my thoughts and how utterly powerless they were too. He proved to me that I was not alone on this journey called life, even when there was no one else in the room. He forced me to recognize my own value in the beautiful way others showed up to take care of me. He taught me the fullness of letting go. With his death, he made me listen.
In the immediate aftermath of his stillbirth, I knew I wanted to allow grief to transform my life. I didn’t know what that would look like, but I did not ever want to repeat the lesson and my belief was that if I listened to that deep, knowing voice, allowing it more space in my life, I could not go wrong. It told me to write publicly about my experience – I listened. It told me to become a Reiki Master – I began to walk that path. It urged me to take better care of myself and while I still struggle with that many days, I listen more often than not – without guilt. There are moments when my intuition gets lost in the shuffle of getting things done and taking care of my family’s needs. But it always resurfaces quickly. Allowing more room for that voice of truth has meant that when I am out of alignment with it, I suffer. And I am done with suffering. I’ve had enough.
I get quiet. I listen. I grow. It is a sacred gift.