On Intuition

One of my biggest goals in life is to become psychic.

Writing it down like that, though– so stark, bald, and unadorned– just sounds wrong. Also, it doesn’t capture the true essence of what it really is I long for.

It’s more accurate to say this:

I yearn to be consciously connected with my highest inner wisdom.

It’s my intention to reclaim my intuitive knowing, as I am– by nature and by birthright– a profoundly intuitive being.

It all starts with a shift in perspective.

Background: I’ve always been fascinated by the metaphysical and intuitive arts, but up until recently, I believed (as many people do) that clairvoyance was a gift that was divinely bestowed upon a select, chosen few. Either you emerged from the womb as a Psychic or you didn’t, period. And even though I accepted the idea that everyone had access to their “intuition”– in a sporadic, lukewarm, pretty vague sort of way– I firmly believed that capital-I Intuition was something different. “Real”, capital-I Intuition wasn’t child’s play. No way, man– it was messages delivered through burning bushes and angels chorusing in your ears. Real Intuition was being able to predict the future, see dead people, and possibly even select winning lottery numbers to boot. In other words, it was P.R.O.F.O.U.N.D.

I loved (and still love) having psychic readings done on myself. I craved (and still crave) access to that slippery, ethereal wisdom. I was even tempted to hire my own, personal Psychic to provide weekly readings for me. #Fact. But one thing I knew for certain was this: I was neither Psychic nor Really Intuitive. I was sensitive, yes. Perceptive, yes. Something bordering on small-i “intuitive”, yes. But magically endowed with supernatural powers of Intuition? Nope. Someone who could accurately answer your burning questions on a Psychic Hotline for $1.99 a minute? Um, definitely not.

Recently, though, my thinking around intuition began to shift.

One of the biggest catalysts for this came during, ahem, an intuitive reading I received from my mom’s doctor, Dr. Divi Chandna. (Oh, the irony…) You see, I consider Dr. Divi to be the Gold Standard of Intuitive Wisdom. She’s practically a fountain of psychic clarity, and I was shocked– nay, flabbergasted— to discover that she had only tapped into these deep intuitive gifts of hers less than a decade ago, while she was in her mid-thirties. You mean she wasn’t born with it?, my mind ventured in disbelief.   

Oh, but she was, came the answer from Divi herself. All of us are born intuitive, in fact, but many (if not most) of us disconnect from our intuition early on, as a subconscious strategy to keep us “safe” as we are growing up, whether that safety is figurative or literal. She went on to tell me that I was actively intuitive when I was 3-4 years old, but that gradually, I learned to disconnect from my intuitive wisdom as a strategy to help me excel in school (where psychic information wasn’t exactly compatible and/or encouraged). I further disowned my intuitive nature during highly taxing periods in my life, such as when my parents divorced in 1999, during my entire Masters’ Degree (2004-06), and when I experienced a miscarriage in 2006.

Hmm…

The psychic learning and paradigm-shifting continued. Next up: as I was browsing aimlessly on Amazon one day (come on, you know you do it too), I happened upon a book with the title All Women Are Psychics. ‘All women?’, I wondered aloud. ‘Does that mean me, too?’ (Note: I didn’t actually order or read this book. I think that the title alone served a valuable purpose for me, by causing me to question some of the deeply-held beliefs I carried about psychics and who could qualify as one.) (Also, I should mention that I automatically expanded upon this title in a mental Note to Self, deciding that, in fact, Everyone Is Psychic. How did I make this gigantic mental leap? Well, I saw the title and immediately thought to myself, “All Women, and Marty, Are Psychics”. Then I realized how absurd it would be for all women but only one, solitary man to be psychic. Hence, everyone is psychic.)

Anyway. Back to paradigm shifting! Most recently (i.e. last Wednesday, the date of the new moon), I excitedly plunged into the February edition of Soul School Monthly, which– in case you don’t already know– is a brilliant, wildly on the mark (and free!) series of e-books written by the astonishing Lauren of Inner Hue. A new edition on a different soulful topic is released every month on the new moon, and this month’s series is not-so-coincidentally dedicated to Intuition. Huh.

Without going into too much detail now (in case you decide to subscribe to Inner Hue and want to be amazed by the insights that come out of your own journaling experience), I realized with crystal clarity that I have been blocking my own intuition on an alarmingly consistent basis, simply by holding a much too narrow and rigid definition of “what counts” as intuition. I discovered with pure shock and amazement that all of these insights have been flowing into my life, practically all the time. However, because these insights haven’t been accompanied by angelic fanfare or been delivered to me with a note that says “Dear Dana: Here’s some perfect, totally unambiguous, and 100% official Intuitive Wisdom for you. Love, God“, I’ve been quick to dismiss or otherwise discredit them. (And, in so doing, I’ve been dismissing myself as an intuitive person! For shame!)

It’s funny (and yes, horrifying) to realize how blind I have been to my own intuition for so long. All these years, I have been searching vainly outside of myself, admiring and even feeling envious of people who have their intuitive shizz together, so to speak. I’ve wanted so badly to be like these psychics and intuitive masters, positively aching to uncover the “secret piece” that would allow me to join their exclusive club. And all this time… I’ve been intuitive without even knowing it. Psychic Sneak Attack!

So. In regards to my “wanting to become psychic” life goal… I am totally on track! I’m positively oozing with gratitude and appreciation to have (finally) come to this realization last week. Would I feel confident hanging a “Dana M., Psychic” shingle outside my door? Haha– not quite yet. However, I feel leaps and bounds more connected on a cosmic level than I did a few days ago, and I owe it all to a simple– yet profound– shift in perspective. (And to Lauren. We can’t forget Lauren and her Soul School Monthly!)

If, like me, you love the idea of “being intuitive” but currently feel stuck in your head and/or totally disconnected from your inner wisdom, here’s what I would lovingly suggest: change your definition of intuition. Based on my recent personal experiences, I can say with confidence that this exercise is the easiest thing you can try that will yield the greatest, most noticeable results. Suddenly, you’ll discover that you’re an Intuitive Powerhouse! Seriously: Why not let everything ‘count’ as intuition?

xx, Dana

The Year of Trust

I’m relatively new to the practice, but when January rolls around now, I enjoy setting myself a one-word intention for the year to come—a North Star or guiding light, if you will. Last year was the first time I consciously selected an Annual Theme Word. After some stillness, silence, and earnest soul-searching, I decided on the word “Ease” for 2014. To me, “Ease” implied loosening my death grip on the natural unfolding process of life. It suggested play, light-heartedness, and a general cooling of my jets, which had been running on overdrive since approximately… birth. Yes, “Ease” was a word that massaged me with a silky caress. It soothed me with promises of relaxation and glimpses of not having to try so damn hard all of the damn time. “Ease” was delicious to me—luxurious, decadent, and practically sinful. I yearned for Ease, and I hoped with childlike sincerity that the simple act of choosing it as my Word of The Year would somehow entice Ease to choose me back.

I choose you… but do you choose me?

Hahaha– Let it be known that Ease does not choose.

Ease is available, yes— and willing, and delighted at every single opportunity to float, carefree, down the river of life. Certainly, I experienced many periods of Ease throughout 2014, and the magic of those moments rendered me dazzled and star struck. Ease will dance, it will stretch, and it will languish in contentment with anyone who wishes to be in its serene company. But Ease will never ask you to dance. No. You must claim Ease for yourself, rather than waiting on it to make the first move. You must demand its presence, not hope for a mere handout after everyone else has had a share. Ease requires ownership, in a sense—a commitment to step forward and to declare with confidence, “Yes, that’s mine.”

These twinkling, starry lights are MINE.

What I discovered throughout 2014 was that I approached Ease with a little too much apprehension and intimidation for its liking. Ease wanted me to feel comfortable and natural in its presence, which I did… sometimes. Otherwise, I was mostly awkward and stilted, practically tripping over myself every ten seconds to ensure that Ease was doing alright and that it had everything it needed. Can I get you a drink? Um, how is the temperature in here? Should I turn on the heat? Or the A/C? Can I feed you some grapes and fan you with a palm leaf?

This is sort of how I pursued Ease– like a rabid, salivating, see-through hound. Not attractive.

Basically, I was like a nerdy pubescent boy in the company of an ultra-sophisticated and hyper-attractive older woman, with the possibility of sex—inexplicably but distinctly—lingering in the air. Given my aching lack of experience, I did not have the confidence or, frankly, the balls to make her my own. (Yes: I just said balls!) Sure, Ease and I still had a nice time together… playing board games… and yes, we continued to hang out every now and then… um, surfing the internet on our iPhones, but it’s only with wiser, more perceptive eyes that I’m finally able to see what could have been between the two of us. And let me just say this: it could have been A.M.A.Z.I.N.G.

But enough with the creepy sex analogies! (Hi, Grandma!)

Ahem. In 2015, I’m getting back to the basics with my Word of the Year. I’ve learned through experience that it makes no sense to set a fabulous intention for yourself if precisely 2% of your being really believes that fabulousness is even possible for you (on a good day). Was “Ease” something I truly desired for myself? Absolutely! But deep down, did I actually believe a life of Ease was possible for me? That I was worthy of Ease, right now, with no adjustments or qualifiers required? That floating through an entire year on the magic carpet of Ease was something that was truly, immediately, and unequivocally available to li’l ol’ me?! Um… no. [cue sad trombone sound]

So close, yet so far away…

And quick aside, because I can hear your protests all the way through my spotty wifi connection: Am I suggesting that you shouldn’t dream big or that you should avoid setting glorious goals for yourself? Totally not! Am I imploring you to be “realistic” (aka: boring and stuck to the same old status quo)? No way! Am I saying that you should water down your most sacred of hopes, or that you should dilute and distort them until they are completely unrecognizable to your heart but benign and acceptable enough to The Man? Come on—never. What I am saying is this: set yourself up to win. How’s that for a novel concept, right? Enough with setting absurd, ridiculous, or certifiably impossible goals for yourself and then feeling shitty and deserving of punishment when you inevitably come up short. Enough. Instead, why not name yourself a prize that’s within reach now—one that you’ll still covet and adore—and then reach for it? Claim it. Own it. And then… do it again. Set yourself up to win a little bit more! State your prize—your star, your dream, a feeling that you’d totally relish!—and then reach for it. Today! Claim it. Own it! Rinse. Repeat.

I claim the colored light that’s filtering through this glass!

Listen: You know I am totally on board with rainbows, unicorns, and starry-eyed gazes toward the very bright future, but there’s also something magical and unbeatable about that “Yes! I did it!” feeling. And hey—maybe you still want to go way long when it comes to your goals for 2015, but for me, after coming up short with Ease last year and feeling disheartened about it, I’m ready to set myself up to win. [End aside.]

ANYWAY.

After all of this, my word for 2015 is “Trust”.

To me, this word is profoundly personal and undoubtedly internal. However, it’s connected to a cosmic order, too. Most importantly, it’s available to me right now, and every time I consciously engage in an act of trusting myself, it feels like I’m taking a bath in pure rubies and silk. Decadence!

“Trust” is about grounding in myself again and taking root in my intuition. 1st Chakra Word, 100%. For years—starting in grade school and continuing throughout most of my adult life—I have largely pointed my radars outward. How can I excel in this environment? What do I need to do in order to earn an ‘A’ (or approval, or success, or the marker of achievement de jour)? What are others doing? How do I compare to them? Am I missing something? What advice do other people have for me?

Trust is about me, though. How do I feel? What do I know? It’s a reconnection. A rekindling. To me, Trust differs from a vague, outward-facing faith in a larger presence—ideally, Trust implies a recognition of that larger presence within myself. Similarly, Trust is not a vain attempt to control or manipulate the circumstances to my liking (although I sure have lots of experience with that!) Rather, Trust involves a deep, deliberate understanding that the circumstances are aligned in my favor, always and without fail. TRUST. Whereas “Ease” enticed me outside of myself to an extent, promising me a comfortable existence just ahead of where I was—one that always felt slightly out of reach—“Trust” now implores me to turn inward again. Right now. It’s already here. I already know. Everything is going to be alright.

Trust.

Just like the Root Chakra itself, “Trust” lays the foundation for everything else. The way I see it, strengthening my Trust muscle is like building up my core stability—from that position of alignment and groundedness, everything else becomes more easily within reach. To return to my painful pre-pubescent analogy now– this year, I’ll be like the nerd who decides to hit the gym for a while. (In solitude, when it’s totally dead in there, like on a Friday evening at 8pm.) Anyway, I’ll be there with my headphones on, listening to Depeche Mode (the true music of my heart), and I’ll be totally tuned in while I’m pumping iron in my own little world. Gradually, I’ll develop muscles. Increasingly, I’ll up my strength and fitness. And one day in the not-so-distant-future, well, what do you know? Self-Assured, Chiseled-But-Totally-Not-In-Your-Face-About-It Me will bump into Ease. And, let’s just say, the sparks will fly… It all starts with Trust! 🙂              

Whew! You made it through my epic, long-awaited Word of 2015 post! How about you? Did you set yourself a word, theme, or intention for this year? If so, please share! If not, do you have an annual ritual that you engage in when December makes way for January? I’d love to hear about it.

Sister Flowing Goddess Skirt

In case it isn’t obvious, I haven’t posted here in months. And months. (And months!) It’s not that I didn’t have anything to say– I did. It’s not that I couldn’t find the time to post– I could.

The thing is… I was being bullied into keeping my mouth shut. Yes, bullied! SHE told me that my ideas weren’t original, profound, or immaculate enough to merit a push of the publish button. SHE said that I could either be humorous or helpful, sarcastic or spiritual, but that I could never, ever, EVER be an offbeat mixture of the two. (After all, that would be blasphemous!)

Don’t even think about posing for a romantic photo with your beloved husband in poor lighting, only to be photo-bombed by a hairless Sphynx cat. Things like that just aren’t done!

SHE is Sister Flowing Goddess Skirt, and for a while– up until this very moment, in fact– I believed everything she said. And so the writing stopped. My voice dried up like a California raisin, dusty and uncertain, and Sister Flowing Goddess Skirt stood watch, ensuring that nothing suspect (i.e. helpful and entertaining) got posted here “accidentally” in the meantime.

Yes.

Sister Flowing Goddess Skirt, retro glasses and bindi intact (gauzy head scarf optional.)

Spoiler alert: Sister Flowing Goddess Skirt is technically still me, only she’s the version of me who insists that everything self help-related be delivered in syrupy packets, swirling cursive, and/or sanitized affirmations.

“Reach for the stars!”, she will sing, her voice vanilla-scented and tinkling like the most delicate of bells. “Dream big and stay in school!”

Regular Me resists this flowery, woo-woo voodoo– fiercely. Pointedly. Aggressively. Still, though– Regular Me is drawn inexplicably towards things like crystals, tarot cards, and universal magic, and yet equally, viciously terrified of being sucked into a vortex of patchouli and tie-dye, never to return.

I say affirmations to myself in the mirror and worry that Sister Flowing Goddess Skirt is peering over my shoulder, secretly setting a honey-kissed trap and plotting to steal my sense of humor forever. I complete a morning energy medicine routine and fear that she will swallow me whole! “Do you like the Law of Attraction?”, I imagine her coaxing me, her inquiry deceptively innocuous. “If so, pay the toll: NOTHING FUNNY CAN BE WRITTEN FROM THIS DAY FORWARD, FOREVER AND EVER, SO HELP YOU GODDESS.” Yeesh!

Only serious and serene starfish photos allowed from now on! (PS: Those aren’t my hands.)

I want to talk about how awesome my abundance altar is, but not if I have to weave daisy chains through my peasant-inspired pleats to do so. (Sister Flowing Goddess Skirt would love that.)

I’m practically itching to tell you everything I’ve learned about tapping and energy medicine lately, but certainly not if I have to deliver my words in a solemn, earnest tone, delicately touching my heart chakra (you know, to keep the channels open.)

There’s so, so much to show and so, so much to tell, but honestly? I can’t bear to share any of it if I have to do it, Magick Faery Goddess Wind Chimes-style. That’s just not my style… most of the time, anyway. Heh.

So here’s what I propose:

I’m going to learn, and I’m going to share what I’ve learned here.

Sometimes, you might have to refrain from guffawing at your computer screen while you are at the office, reading my posts while you are supposed to be working. (That’s how outrageous and hilarious they might be!)

At other times, Sister Flowing Goddess Skirt might have her way with me, and I’ll serenely impart some nuggets of universal wisdom to you, perhaps causing you to touch your heart chakra involuntarily (you know, to keep the channels open).

Word to the wise: green is the color of the heart chakra. In case you were wondering…

Either way, I’m tired of not writing and tired of not saying all of the things that need to be said. Sound cool? Excellent.

I’ve missed you!

How you been since February?