A while back - I can't remember just how long ago it was - the Diva and I were crossing a road, in the crosswalk, following all the rules. As we crossed, we talked, and I watched the cars to some extent but not as I would were I jay walking. As we approached the very last lane of the road a car began to make its turn into that lane. I have to admit, I didn't see this happening as much as I sensed it happening. I pushed the Diva out of the road to the extent that I could while stepping out of the crosswalk and hitting the hood of the car before it hit my leg.
I was stunned.
The driver was shocked as she had not looked before she turned right.
The Diva spent the next few months working through the incident. For her, it kicked off a series of emotions focused upon her life if something happened to me.
I trust my instincts completely. This was a dramatic example; an example of not seeing what is happening but realizing, at some base level, that one has to move/change up and do it NOW. There isn't time to process what is happening and make a decision, one must resort to instinct.
And my instinct is to protect myself and my child. When those factors come into play, my instincts; my intuition shouts to be heard. Actually, they give me no choice. I never hesitate to respond as they demand. It is that primal instinct that connects us to the past. That survival of the fittest that has nothing to do with high end cars, home theaters, million dollar bonus annually, or designer labels.
I often wonder if our instincts (that little voice inside) are less pronounced today than it once was. Now we are busy. We are talking and listening and doing. We are driving and participating and continually considering what happens next. Our minds may be more nimble than in the past, but are they also more cluttered? Are they more connected to electronics than to the natural rhythms of the body?
Sometimes I feel cluttered; as if my mind is over run with all that is happening around me. When I feel my mind over loaded or when I feel that strong desire to disconnect, I find myself drawn to nature. I can't always get to the beach (where I find perspective most easily) nor can I find my way to a solitary peak upon which I can contemplate life with only the birds and the wind for company. But I can take walks. I can take walks. I can spend time watching nature as it unfolds before my eyes, changing daily. Or I can spend hours working the soil as I tend to my plants.
These are connections I enjoy; things that help me unwind and restore my perspective. I feel more grounded and less stimulated - or just stimulated differently. These are times I share with my daughter - the leaves dancing on the wind or the image of a deer running amidst the trees following its own instincts (also dulled by its proximity to humans and technology).
There are many things I can share with my daughter; many things I can teach. I work with her on flexibility of thought and mind. We approach ideas from different directions in order to see them differently. We talk about different ways she can create or do a project. I can demonstrate the creative process and allow her to express her own. We adapt to situations as they arise; always preparing ourselves to thrive in a different environment or under varying circumstances. But I am, as of yet, unsure how to teach her to listen to her instincts. I am not sure how to help her quiet her mind and listen to the voice inside that warns her of pitfalls ahead. I would like to think that we, as humans, naturally trust those little voices when we hear them, but we don't... and sometimes we can't tell one little voice from another. And I wonder how we can remember to listen to that voice; to trust our instincts?
The Quest for T and Mama Llama, and The Exception are currently engaged in a thematic project of sorts. This weeks theme is The Ability to Sense and Learn New Things. It the concept strikes you, and you are interested in joining with a post, please let me know so that I can add your post to the side bar!!