As spring approaches with song birds and buds on the trees, we are invited into our own metamorphosis….perhaps stirrings of change for you in your relationship to yourself or another or hearing the call for a change in profession or location. Those stirrings, our intuition, are like a river guide on a river, helping guide our life in the direction we are meant to go. And for many of us, we have to learn not only to hear the whisper but to trust it. Our inner voice, may not make sense to our mind. The stirring we feel may not make sense to anyone else either. But I encourage you to reflect upon those moments in life where you trusted your intuition, refusing to let your mind or fear control you. Ask yourself, how did it feel to listen? And even more important, what happened when you did?
Below is a story from my upcoming book entitled “River to Ocean: Living in the Flow of Wakefulness. It offers the power of listening to and trusting one’s intuition as part of being on a spiritual path. After you read the story, consider taking one day, just one day, when you ask your intuition to be your guide. From there, see what happens……..
This story is one of life and death proportions, occurring within weeks of finishing writing this section on intuition. My husband and I were vacationing in Hawaii at the height of the big winter waves. We were excited to show our young grandchildren a bay that is filled with turtles so that they might see them since they were too young to snorkel. He and I had our snorkel gear on and were heading toward the familiar rocks where we had often stepped into the water. The waves were strong and getting in looked tricky but there were many people in the bay and the bay itself was calm. It was simply a matter of watching the waves and finding the right moment.
Gary proceeded to a rock that looked to be the best spot, with me right behind him. I am a strong swimmer, and I longed for the connection to the sea turtles I had enjoyed with each venture to this special site. I also wanted for my children and grandchildren to see Grandma Kath be brave, active, and engaging with life. Then I heard the voice, loud and clear, saying, “Don’t go in.” I paused, feeling conflicted and disappointed, and pivoted away from the water. I offered the sentiment to Gary, but he felt comfortable proceeding. I plopped down in displeasure and I watched him out on the rock. After 15 minutes of gauging the waves, he was ready to go in. Then suddenly, a huge sneaker wave came up behind him. We shouted for him to get down, but it swept him over into a cavern between the rocks, pulling him under, and then a second huge wave kept him trapped. Unbelievably and miraculously, he was not killed by hitting his head on a rock or knocked unconscious and drowned.
I have never trusted my intuition so strongly nor have been given the gift of life on its behalf. Had Gary and I both been swept into the cavern, he and I may have experienced great harm. Without me in the water, he was able to climb out unencumbered. Had I been swept in, his instinct to help me, especially had I been injured, may have compromised his focus on himself, putting him at greater risk. By listening and honoring my intuition, it served us both.