For years, I've had the practice of taking a yearly Solo Journey. This started by accident, "serendipitously" --I like to say. I took my first one to Sedona, Arizona in 2001 following eight months of breast cancer treatment. Four years after that trip, I took an "intentional" one for my 50th birthday present to Jekyll Island, Georgia. A lot of thought, rational planning went into that first journey. I chose a place that was familiar and in driving distance. As the years progressed, I depended less on my rational side and more on my intuitive side.
I learned about using intuition when I took my life coaching course through Linda Bark's Wisdom of the Whole Academy. She's a Ph D level nurse who incorporated her Western medicine training with learning Eastern practices in China. In her coaching textbook, she states:
'The word intuition comes from the Latin and means "in to you."It's an internal knowing of deep inner truth. It can come as an inkling or hunch, or arrive as a strong sign or message that runs through body/mind/spirit." (p 221, The Wisdom of the Whole: Coaching for Joy, Health, and Success)
As I learned more about intuition, I started throwing out a question, which for me, was partly a prayer, "God, where should I go on my trip this year?" Then I waited to see what would come up--in conversations, in my interest, through information that came randomly. Some of what followed came energetically--how I felt in my body when I thought of certain options---excited, alert, heart pounding a bit faster or sluggish and dreading the preparation.
In thinking about what I'd learned in the past about intuition, I wanted to see what was out there now on the internet. I came across an article on the Skill Share blog site. Nikki Carver describes examples of intuitive experiences. One of those examples resonated with me:
"Feeling very strong emotions toward someone or something and later understanding that those feelings were correct, and why"
https://www.skillshare.com/en/blog/a-guide-to-developing-intuition-12-ways-to-tap-into-your-inner-knowing
One of my yearly journeys that most demonstrates Carver's example--especially of "later understanding that those feelings were correct, and why" was my trip in 2018 to Bradenton, Florida. My cousin, Linda lived there in a senior retirement community on the Gulf Coast. She'd been inviting me to come down for years and I finally had the time to make that happen. I would follow those days with her by driving across the state to the Atlantic side for a few days alone--the solo leg of my journey.
When I made my plan with Linda, I knew she'd been through a lot, including health problems and the death of her son, Joe--less than two years before. She was an older cousin that I hadn't known well, but when we'd spent time together, we'd connected and valued our renewed family ties. I'd gotten to know Joe in the few years before he died at 47 years old, a sweet younger cousin who felt like a little brother. We'd had some great conversations and me being 14 years older didn't seem to matter.
Driving south on that long stretch of interstate to Florida, I got a call from my older sister, Harriet. It was March 22cnd, my birthday, and she called to sing "Happy Birthday"-- like Mama used to do. Harriet was glad that I was visiting Linda and said, "it's a really hard time of year for her. Yesterday would have been Joe's birthday."
In my conversations with Joe, we'd never talked about our birthdays; I had no idea they were just a day apart. We'd talked about his love of the Rock band KISS and him following NASCAR--just like his father and grandfather--but never our birthdays. He'd had health problems after a work injury. We'd all thought things were improving for him; I'd thought we'd have time for many more of those long conversations; but his body gave out.
I was thankful Harriet had given me a head's up and I knew what I was walking into.
Linda was glad to see me. Soon she told me it had been difficult with all the memories of Joe, the details of his last day of life playing over and over in her head. She didn't know I'd talked to him just days before he died. She was glad to hear my account of my conversation with Joe--of how happy and hopeful he sounded. After lots of tears, some laughs, and then quiet, she showed me a stack of gift cards to local restaurants.
"Joe always paid when we went out to eat. He'd given me a bunch of them to our favorite restaurants," she said, with tears in her eyes. "Why don't we go out now 'on him'?" she suggested, as a slight grin formed on what had been a sad face.
We drove to their favorite seafood place. The parking lot was full on that March evening with a cool breeze coming in off the Gulf. We were seated at a large comfortable booth in a quiet area of the restaurant. The waiter brought our wine and we toasted Joe, clinking our glasses together and saying, "Thank you, Joe for treating us to dinner."
Linda and I talked about how we could sense his presence, that he would be smiling and enjoying the time with family. I told her that I hadn't known that I would be visiting at his birthday, at our birthday time. We both agreed that it was "meant to be." That was when I knew the why of my trip.
When I was in Bradenton, I spent that Saturday morning at Coquina Beach. Walking along the shoreline, I joined several herons---a favorite of mine with their gorgeous colors and exquisite wingspan.
What struck me was how their silhouette looked like a question mark. Now, I think of it as a reminder, to trust my intuition, to throw out a question--to God, to the Universe, to my wondering--and see what comes back.
'Throwing out a Question' is just one way of tapping into your inner knowing. With more practice using it and other intuitive tools, we can become skilled and confident in our own powers to know what's best; it can be as reliable as those rational, intellectual tools that have been honored in our Western culture. Surely life is more dynamic than just our reasoning and is rich with other ways to find our right path.
No comments:
Post a Comment