“I’ve trusted the still, small voice of intuition my entire life. And the only time I’ve made mistakes is when I didn’t listen.” -Oprah Winfrey
I’m working on listening to my heart. Trusting my inner guidance has been an ongoing process. One morning last August, I prayed to be shown how to listen and act on what I know to be true. I have trouble paying heed to the small voice attempting to guide me. It’s hard to hear it over the clatter in my brain, trying to figure everything out.
Later that day, I took our dog, Quigley, outside with me to check the mail. As we walked toward the mailbox, he darted to the side of the house. He frantically began searching for something in the bushes. As I rushed over, my instincts screamed to get him out of there. Then the thought hit me. My husband, Bob, would say to leave Quigley alone because he was after the vole that had been eating the roots of our plants. What did I do? Against my higher judgement, I stood by and watched. I could hear the critter rustling and then came a loud hiss. Quigley sprang back. To my horror I saw a yellow glob of goo oozing down the top of head, into his eye. I didn’t know what to make of it until an acrid smell hit my nostrils. Quigley had been sprayed by a skunk!
Removing the stench off of him was quite a process. After bathing him daily for a week, he still had to be confined to the basement. It was a whole month before the unmistakable smell was completely gone. If I had only listened to what my intuition told me, I wouldn’t have had to deal with the foul odor that relentlessly clung to my dog.
If earth is a school, the class I must be taking is Trust Your Gut 101. Our inner guidance is an illuminated lantern to help us from stumbling on our path. I’ve heard it said that the universe talks to us first in a whisper and then gets louder and louder until we get the message. The way that whisper was amped up on that morning last summer makes me laugh. It’s nice to know God has a sense of humor. There is nothing like the smell of skunk to drive home a point.
Text and images © Sue Shanahan. All rights reserved. www.sueshanahan.com