Monday, June 14, 2004
And Now Back To Our Program
A few days ago I was talking to a friend about instincts and/or intuition. Now I have learned over the years to listen to my instincts because they have been accurate a high percentage of the time and when I didn’t listen, I found myself in situations that could have easily been avoided if I had.
The best story I can give describing my instincts was the day they rang the loudest and there was no way I could shut them off. I had met a friend in college who was brilliant with numbers and she helped me with understanding Algebra. She was so good that after years of struggling with it, she explained it to me in 5 minutes and I totally got it. I actually had fun doing it. We would go to Denny’s and do algebra because she loved numbers and I was loving that I finally understood what was going on. Anyway, we became very good friends and did all kinds of things together.
She eventually got a job to help pay for school and that is where she met her soon to be boyfriend. One night she called me up and asked if I would like to go with her to his house to meet him. Of course I’m curious as to who this is so I said yes. She came and got me and we drove over to his house. It was a big white house and we walked up to the door and knocked on it.
I had absolutely no preconceived ideas about this person. She had told me hardly a thing about him so basically, he had a clean slate is what I’m trying to say. But the second he opened that door and said hello, my instincts were going off, “All hands on deck! This is NOT a drill! Warning! Warning! Use extreme caution!”
It hit me like a locomotive that there was something terribly wrong with this person and all he had done was open the door and say, “Hello.” We walked into his house and he showed us around, he brought us drinks and we went to the den/rec room, (whatever), and sat around and talked.
There was nothing wrong with this person. He was actually a good looking guy, he had manners, he was very courteous and showed my friend a lot of respect as well as her friends but I could not get my instincts to shut off. It’s the hardest thing to explain because I didn’t get goosebumps or anything like that, it was just something in me telling me this was a very bad person.
I kept my thoughts to myself and tried to have a good time and didn’t let on that I thought like this so when we left, my friend, who was driving me and another friend back home, cheerfully asked, “So, what did you guys think of him?”
I tried to avoid answering by letting my other friend answer first. But C was relentless and would not let me get out of it. I so did not want to say anything bad, she was so happy and I just didn’t want to ruin that for her. I told her that it didn’t matter what I thought. She pressed on. I told her that people affect each other different ways, what mattered was what she thought and was she happy.
She wasn’t about to let me off. She really wanted to know. What do I do? Do I tell her? Do I lie to her? I don’t like lying and I wasn’t about to start by lying to a very good friend. Sigh...and this wasn’t just some small voice, this was an ear splitting scream that would not let me forget it so I finally gave in.
I told her I did not like him. I told her I had no idea why I didn’t like him, that I couldn’t explain it, all I knew was that my instincts were screaming at me that this was bad. Naturally, she was not pleased with that answer. As time went on, he became more controlling in her life, shutting her out of everything, picking her up from work, sitting out in the parking lot her entire shift, not letting her talk to her friends, especially not me and she started to draw away from me. I saw him one night in a bar about six months later and I told him precisely what I thought about him and his controlling ways. He was such a jackass that he tried to get my thrown out of the bar. Of course, that didn’t work because the only one yelling was him. Anyway, eventually C and I lost contact. And that totally sucked but I didn’t lie, I told her when she asked and I did the right thing.
About 3 years later when I was in the Reserves, our unit went to a Denny’s for breakfast. (Interesting no?) I was sitting at a table with fellow soldiers when I happened to look up and see someone familiar. She was a waitress and although she had lost about 30 pounds, I knew it was C.
I got up and walked over to her and said, “Hi C” thinking she would give me the brush off. She was a mixture of happy to see me and it also brought her pain so the expression on her face was terrible. She hugged me and asked me how I was. I told her. I asked her where she had been.
She laid the bomb on me.
She said, in an almost hysterical voice because it was still fresh and raw to her, “You were right (my name)! You were right about him!”
I knew instantly exactly who she was talking about.
“You were right, I didn’t listen to you, I got mad at you and you were right! He tried to kill me!”
She then proceeded to tell me the entire story and it was horrific. It was absolutely horrible to hear this, to know that I almost lost a friend and being right didn’t make me feel good at all. She told me that she had been in another state living with relatives after this happened and had just recently moved back. After she was done telling me everything, we hugged again and we exchanged phone numbers vowing to pick up our friendship again.
It didn’t happen and I don’t blame her. Seeing me reminded her of that time in her life and as much as it sucked to lose my friend, if not seeing me helped her heal, that was the best gift I could give her.
I wrote here not too long ago that sometimes I get feelings and that I’m not claiming to be psychic because I’m not. It’s just my intuition that I’m listening to, intuition that everyone has. Some listen, some blow it off. I’ve blown it off before but I won’t ever blow it off again.
Now, superstitions are completely different although people like to mock both but superstition comes from a long line of “old wives tales” or stories handed down over the years. Some people believe them and some people think they’re fun and some people are in between.
One of the weirdest and funniest blogs I have on my blogroll, Penda’s Realm, discusses the old superstition of what it means when your right hand itches and I wanted to add a few things to that thought.
(Oh, and yes, she is weird but I say that respectfully...the lady collects plastic babies and alligator heads and arranges them in various poses...c’mon now...that is weird and hilarious.)
Now, as I wrote in her comments, this is one superstition I wonder about. (Oh, for those who don’t know, when your right hand itches, it means you are getting money and when the left hand itches, it means you will lose money.) When my right hand itches, I do indeed, always get money. Usually it’s in the form of my paycheck but as it is a fun superstition, I’ve always paid attention to what happens in the near future after either hand itches. (Usually the palm for me.) And, as I said, my right hand starts to itch right around pay day.
On the other hand, (erm...no pun intended), when my left hand itches, I inevitably lose money. For instance, you may all remember a few months ago I had broken my ankle. Well, yes, a few days before, my left hand had been itching furiously. And now I have this fat medical bill I have to pay. And no, these aren’t simple tiny itches, these are “you become very aware that you are itching because it’s so prominent” itches. (If that’s the correct word to use.)
Another superstition is not to break a mirror lest ye retain seven years of bad luck. Well, guess what I did about 10 years ago?
Another one is not to let a black cat walk in front of your path yet in England, (at least in the olden days), it was the other way around. A black cat meant good luck so I’m not quite sure what my black cat means as far as my luck is concerned.
Of course there are the complete nay-sayers out there who refuse to accept instinct or superstition and chalk everything up to coincidence. Instincts are something within while superstitions, as I said, have been passed down the generations but I’ve always wondered where they came from, where they orginated and why. Is there absolutely no truth to them at all? I disagree wholeheartedly with the nay-sayers about instincts and as far as their beliefs with superstitions...I think they have no idea how to enjoy life because superstitions are fun to think and wonder about.
Except when my left hand itches.
In conclusion, listen to your instincts and although I wouldn’t prescribe following superstitions to the letter to the point of paranoia, lighten up and just enjoy them for what they are.
