Instinct, Intuition and Synchronicity
My head and heart have been at odds most of my life. There is an aspect of my personality that is clinical to a fault. Yet, somewhere in my DNA is a deep abiding tradition that screams at me to follow my intuition. Everyone has it. That voice that speaks to you when a fork opens up in the road. Logic might dictate the well trodden path but something in you howls to choose the alternative. Discerning what that voice is saying, has been a lifelong expedition into my own psyche. Sometimes ,it is a societal act of non-conformist rebellion to find my own niche in world that desperately attempts to amalgamate the contradictions of independence and herd mentality. Parsing out desire, longing, and ingrained patterns with pure instinct has been like unraveling a Gordian knot. I’m that junkie who amasses data to make informed decisions but if that little voice inside me tells me to chase something, I sprint until my lungs give way. That voice has been bellowing a lot over the last two years and particularly while we are traveling as a family.
This weekend my family took a much needed excursion into Nature. If I could get my kids on board, two overnight backpacking trips a month would make me blissfully happy. We’ve heard this refrain a thousand times. That being in nature grounds us, reminds of our insignificance, interdependence, and that my children might be the most isolated generation from the life giving breath that our planet provides and yet will be the first to really face the consequences of that hubris. Nature is a healing balm for many of life’s challenges. A reprieve, a prayer, a hopeful reminder, primal instinct unleashed.
It was the first overnight backpacking trip for my kids and not an easy hike. The first hour was replete with bitchiness and whining about the heat and and the incline until I, in my usual fashion barked “Stop bitching and suck it up”, followed by an explanation as to why we do these things as a family and the perspective that is to be gained. I could complain about my whining kids, but it was such a teachable moment that reminded my husband and I that we must be doing something right. Instead of being sullen turds for the rest of the trip they choose to embrace the exhaustion and put their best foot forward, taking in the glorious beauty of the mountains, creeks, mating butterflies, hummingbirds, goats, Nutria and stars. As though these moments were gifted for us. If there is one lesson I could impart to them it would be this: Try! Don’t stop! Don’t quit! Be the best version of yourself through adversity. The world is a hard enough place. Bring more grace to it enhancing your own experience and those around you. (Remember the floating unicorn we saw in the wild! Synchronicity. )
The world seems to be mourning on so many levels after yet another round of soul crushing current events, I weep with it. How is that human beings manage to find sanctuary in dark times? Yet I do. We do. We find solace in each other, in community, in strangers. There is destruction and devastating heartbreak but there is hope also. I’m not sure what the correct term would be for that mixture of poignant euphoria. The sheer unadulterated freedom of stopping by roadside cafes in small town America for ice cream and seeing your country again through fresh eyes is a gift, particularly in difficult times. The infinite pleasure of being able to breathe in the stillness of mountain lakes are moments to be treasured. I mentally noted the changes of my own perspective with time and history while also witnessing the world through the eyes of my children. That wistfulness of staring out the car window, art displayed in the yards of tiny homesteads, birdhouses, funny signs and the apparent easy going humor of hardworking humans immediately puts me at ease. It also feels like a warm beloved hand on the small of my back causing me to exhale. (By the way, I saw a floating unicorn in the wild. I’m so grateful for this moment!)
When we travel there are places that feel like they have an energetic signature. Some places clearly scream “not for you, keep moving” while others make me want to uproot and replant. Our family has an upcoming trip to New Zealand planned. The interesting thing is that this place seems to be calling me. I’ve dreamt about it twice now. My dreams have never been the run of the mill. They come complete with a soundtrack, smells and vivid imagery. These dreams are almost like memories that sometimes stick with me for years providing me a compass for my life. A fork in the road presents itself and déjà vu, intuition or the fragmented memory of some long forgotten dream lures me to new adventures.
They’ve brought me friends, treasured moments and so much joy. Maori fish hooks and tiny camper vans seem to be weirdly haunting themes driving me to be a little excited about this upcoming trip. The thin air of our overnight hike also had me dreaming of Synchronicity II (The Police) and literally writing this article. I told you, complete with a soundtrack my friend. I thought about calling it synchronicity but, since I was blessed enough to witness three shooting stars making me want to squeal like a child, I thought a Disney reference would be more appropriate.
“This place is a dream. Only a sleeper considers it real. Then death comes like dawn, and you wake up laughing at what you thought was your grief.” — Rumi
I feel as though I’m hunting something or perhaps something wonderful is hunting me. It’s been in my peripheral vision hiding in plain sight. Whatever the opportunity, whoever you are, I’m so looking forward to meeting you with open eyes and with a childlike sense of wonder. Come and introduce yourself, I tend to always have pocket change for a cup of coffee. Hopefully we can exchange stories of fate/coincidence one day. I’ll tell you about how we ended the trip with a stowaway field mouse in my husband’s hiking boot. (In addition I saw the elusive floating unicorn in the wild.)
Why unicorns? They are a metaphor for potential. The holy grail of people who fit you like puzzles pieces. Dreams manifested in real life.
Go forth break bread. Ahh, the dog days of summer. I’ll miss you, summer salads.
https://www.allrecipes.com/recipe/112095/roasted-beet-peach-and-goat-cheese-salad/
In case anyone cares or loves music. The latest addition to my dream soundtrack is “Like a stone” by Audioslave which led me to purchase Chris Cornell’s compilation album. His version of “Nothing compares to you” stirs something inside me. Déjà vu…
