Discovering My Intuitive Connection

This photograph of Linda as a young child picking flowers triggered a subconscious memory of her intuitive connection with the world.

When my two kids were young, they always wanted me to “tell another story, pleee-ase”.  My stories usually ended up having similar plots and similar lessons, so I decided to attend an evening discussion on how to be a better storyteller.  I don’t remember what I learned about storytelling, but the evening did trigger an important memory that started me on a path of re-discovering my intuitive connection with the world. 

It happened during an exercise with an old photograph – I am a young child standing in a little red dress amongst tall grasses with my face turned away from the camera, picking flowers.  I have hardly any childhood memories, and I didn’t see how meditating with this photo was going to get me anywhere.  But perhaps there was a story lurking somewhere in there. 

If you had asked me what kind of person I was back at the time of this photo exercise, I probably would have talked about being scientific.  From as young as I can remember, I was always told that I had a scientific and analytical mind and would surely become a scientist one day.  I remember thinking that this was a good thing, that I had a good mind and was on the right track for life.  I also faintly remember wondering about the other side of things, about what it would be like to encounter the world in a more creative and intuitive way.  But I stayed focused on the scientific path.    

My intuitive connection revealed

We began the meditation. I gazed at the old photo of my child self and settled into the feeling-sense of wearing a little red dress, tall grasses scratching at my bare legs. I felt the bunch of flowers in my hand and noticed what it was like to reach into the grasses for more flowers. I didn’t expect much to happen. But reaching into those grasses, I felt my young child self sharing her sorrows and hopes with the plants and insects, with the wind and sun. And coming right back at me, I felt the deep listening and support of the plants, insects, wind, and sun. A long-lost, hidden part of me bubbled to the surface, sticking for a moment in my throat.

My natural state of being, my core self, was part of an intuitive and interconnected flow with all life.  

I was deeply in tune with the natural world around me, in conversation with the plants and animals, and intuitively able to see and know things as part of this interconnectedness.  But I also knew that it was not okay to be this way, that I needed to hide it away – even from myself – and focus on the scientific and analytical parts of myself, approved of by my parents and society.  There was a tangible feeling of loss, of resignation, in this child self of mine. 

You might think that after this experience with the photograph, I immediately started questioning my life path and figuring out how to regain this beautiful interconnected flow with life.  I’d like to say that I did, and I do remember the experience touching me deeply, but it was only a fleeting hint of what was to come later.  I went home from the storytelling evening and settled back into the busyness of my life.

Not ready to own my intuitive connection

It’s not that I wasn’t interested in re-awakening this intuitive side of myself, but I simply couldn’t comprehend how it fit in with my scientific analytical self.  I couldn’t understand, as I do now, that science and intuition are both valid ways of knowing the world.

I have to admit that I also had a pretty strong judgment going on. 

I don’t know about you, but I was brought up to believe that it’s more valuable to be analytical and detached than to pursue a more artsy creative lifestyle, that I should become something requiring advanced academics – a lawyer, doctor, engineer, scientist.  In revolt, I used to tell people I wanted to be a truck driver (not that there’s anything wrong with being a truck driver).  It wasn’t entirely a joke, because there was a feeling of freedom in me when I pictured myself sitting up high on the driver’s seat, looking around at endless landscapes and having plenty of time to dream.  But aside from this “joke”, I didn’t allow myself to dream. Or so I thought.

We had a sibling photo of me, my sister and brother, and our two step-brothers. My dad told me that he showed this photo to a new friend of his. She pointed directly to me and exclaimed, “she’s a dreamy one!” I was shocked. Me, the die-hard scientific and analytical being, coming across as dreamy to a stranger?  This stranger was an artist, and when I looked at the photograph through her eyes, I understood something new about myself.  Though I wasn’t quite sure what.

There was definitely something about me that didn’t fit who I thought I was.

What I realize now is that I was living life like a detached observer of a world that seemed separate from me, playing out the drama of my life in my head instead of connecting to experiences through the felt sense of my body.  You know that feeling?  Like you’re watching your life on a movie screen instead of actively feeling it happening?  That’s how it was for me, and it took me multiple wake-up calls, as well as starting a meditation and qigong practice, before I could actively engage with my intuitive connection and make changes in my life.

Even if I didn’t become a better storyteller for my children, I am happy to have modeled positive change for them:  deeply questioning my lifestyle and core values, letting go of old judgments, taking risks and making changes in an attempt to become more aligned to my core self, which includes both the scientific and the intuitive.