What kept me from connecting with my intuition when I thought I had it figured out

How strong am I standing in my own truth? (Image courtesy of worldofmiri.com)

It was about trusting my own truth

I grew up in a family who valued mental capacity, sharpness and quickness of the mind.

I suppose this was not just us, but part of a pattern running through the Western world. To me it seems children need to thrive academically so they can secure a job with status and money. Maybe this is about trying to control life when there is danger and chaos in the world? Maybe these patterns are born from trying to deal with the drama, violence, unknowingness, and fear penetrating our planet every day? Maybe money creates a sense of safety, fragile of course, but somewhat tangible enough to hold?

I deeply admire the sharpness of the minds I’ve witnessed in my family. What these minds master is mind-boggling, whether it’s the reciting of long, wonderful poems, knowing world history, the ability to put events into political context, or explaining complex scientific or mathematical processes.

I am in awe.

My own mind isn’t slow, quite the contrary, it races fast, trying to keep up with everything happening, prodding for dangers, and continuously assessing my situation. Sadly, the racing has more to do with analyzing past mistakes or projecting future worries than with unlocking the next scientific breakthrough formula.

Through debates with members of my family on scientific or other topics, I learned I could never “win” any of these. Moreover, I did not feel comfortable entering debates which resembled competitions rather than discussions; a modern form of dueling, only with words instead of swords. The one knowing most, the one most refined in arguing, the one radiating knowledge would be the winner.

I used to want to win those debates, but I never could. Whenever I questioned a fact presented by the other side, the debate quickly went downhill to arrive in the land of “Do you question my knowledge?” also known as “Do you question my mind-power? Do you question my power?”

This left me feeling powerless. These experiences rendered me quiet and I chose not to express my opinion at all. It did not feel safe.

In hindsight, I spent most of my life not expressing my truth

Moving to the other side of the world led to physical separation from my family. While this has been painful at times, it has also provided me with the opportunity to rediscover my own truth and to actively choose my values. I entered safe environments in the form of women’s groups where I learned how to express myself. I experimented with speaking my truth. I learned to value others’ opinions. Now, when I am in a discussion, I don’t want to win, but I aim for an exchange of viewpoints. I want to see a situation from as many angles as possible because there is always more than one truth.

I know not to believe everything I hear or read. It’s important to discern. In today’s world, there is information available for every scenario. My mind cannot process all of it; that would be too much to ask.

So, what do I use to guide myself?

I learned to trust in my intuition. I know my intuition is amazing, as anyone realizes who starts working with their own. Best of all, it is available to everyone and deals in the currencies of faith and truth.

After many years of exploring, I felt good about expressing myself.

I thought I had it figured out - until I didn’t

Caught unaware, I ended up in a debate. The content is not important, and I do not even remember the details. All I remember is how it left me feeling. I went back to being a young child. I had voiced my opinion and it was crushed. I could feel a powerful wave of mind-energy in battle-mode sweep over me. It was intimidating.

I did not react like an emotionally capable adult; I reacted like someone under threat which leaves us human beings with two options: Fight of flight. Fight was not possible.

So I ran.

Tucked up in my bathroom, I started breathing into my body to relax and let go. It took me some time and a few tears to get back into equilibrium. The situation had triggered the mind-dominance and “it is not safe to speak my truth” of my childhood.

The thing is, I can’t consciously remember a particular childhood incident. But in that moment, curled up on the bathroom floor, I felt small, stupid, unworthy, and utterly ignored. I felt my voice did not matter. I felt my decision-making was inferior. How I move through life with my rediscovered set of values was questioned all over again.

My inner child needed healing. Of course, as with any trauma, this was about my own experience amounting to my own truth. Potentially contrary to that will be the experience of everyone else involved. I know it is vital to understand these may differ from my story as each of us perceives the world through a unique lens. This does not render any experience less worthy. This is about discerning my own truth while simultaneously accepting different versions of the same story.

I needed a night of sleep to understand what had happened.  In the past months, I had become doubtful of my intuitive voice. I thought I couldn’t hear it anymore. I felt left alone by my inner wisdom.

This incident finally opened my eyes to a larger truth.

I was the one muffling the voice of my intuition

I had slipped back into old patterns. I didn’t allow myself to trust myself.

This was why I couldn’t connect with my intuition anymore. I had succumbed to the old stories, where an intuitive voice doesn’t count in the light of facts, data, and scientifically proven tests. The old childhood wound of “not having a voice that counted” resurfaced. There I was, a little girl again, her intuition not taken seriously.

The incident was a wake-up call:

It was time to allow my trust to resurface, to believe in my inner voice, and to stand in my own unique truth.