When to Listen to Your Inner Voice

Each weekday morning, I have the intention to get to my laptop at 8:00 am, log into Zoom, and do my 1-hour London Writers Salon writing session with hundreds of other writers.

I don’t always make it.

Like all of us, there are often distractions that get in my way. Today, the way-blocker was doing the dishes, loading the dishwasher, cleaning counters and then getting myself ready and getting the dog to day care.

I didn’t make it.

I found myself in the car at 8:03, starting to stress and get angry that I hadn’t met my goal. I started that spiral of berating myself for not planning ahead, not having my bag ready, not cleaning the kitchen the night before, not doing the right things to prepare for this moment.

Then, I heard a voice. It said, “Stop.”

It then told me to pull into the grocery store parking lot, use the hotspot on my phone, use my laptop and do Writers’ Hour in the car.

I did that.

Then, my computer was acting weird. Like, not letting me open my novel! I could not work on it. I started to get irritated. But realized, this, too was a sign.

So, I stopped trying to do what wasn’t working and reached for what I knew would: my journal.

Pen in hand, I did my “Morning Pages” instead and had a beautiful, wonderful writing moment of several (and I mean sev-er-al) epiphanies. I won’t go into what they were because I think they were meant for me. BUT as I finished, a small mesquite-tree BRANCH literally dropped onto the window shield. I was like, “What…the…?” I leaned forward over the steering wheel, craned my neck and looked up through the window shield. Above were three frolicking Monk Parakeets. I LOVE those birds. They are such delightful surprises. I would see them in LA. Actually, sometimes they are hard to see because their green color can blend in with the brightness of trees. Howeves, I can always hear them, especially if I listen for them.

I took those birds as a sign that I was in the right place at the right time doing the right thing.

After I was done writing, I thought, “I’m hungry.”

I don’t know if you’re like me, but, my goodness…sometimes, deciding what to eat is a monumental feat. I can’t make decisions. I can’t decipher how to nourish myself.

Again, the voice said, “Stop.” And then the voice said, “Helloooo…you’re in a grocery store parking lot. Go in.”

Still, I pondered. I know myself. I looked at the Fry’s looming ahead. I get lost in grocery stores — too many choices, too many interesting distractions. Too many people to observe. It’s too much!

So I asked for help: “What should I get?” The voice said, “Yogurt.” I groaned. Like, I really did. Because yogurt doesn’t always sit well with me. Stomach bloating, all the things. But, it does have some good qualities that maybe my body needs right now. I got my ass out of the car and click-clacked in my black, kitten heels all the way into the store.

Once inside, I stood at the door, paused and listened. I wasn’t familiar with this store; had never been inside. So I listened and looked for whatever it was that I was summoned inside to see. Because, maybe the call for yogurt wasn’t about the dairy treat at all. Maybe it was about something else.

I didn’t have time to linger and do all the things I like to do in the grocery aisles, but I looked and listened as I made my beeline to the dairy section. (Saw the same man twice; with one of those times being in front of the yogurt section! Saw a woman that reminded me of the receptionist at my eye doctor — thus reminding me to make an appointment. Saw a red-haired, scraggily-looking young man twice. He really looked like he needed a hug – so on the second encounter, I made eye contact with him and hugged him that way.)

My senses were sensing and I felt pretty alive.

Now, here comes the good part:

If I eat yogurt, I’m eating granola with it because I really don’t like the consistency of yogurt. Y’all. I reach for my granola bag and there is a gosh darn coupon for FREEEE yogurt on the bag!!!! Hello!

Because I had the coupon, I decided to go to the checkout person rather than self-check in case there was electronic trouble. I wanted to go to Aisle 8, (that’s my lucky number and my birthdate). There was a line. I went to Aisle 9 instead. Now… (stay with me) … this morning, when I was hurriedly getting dressed, I was going to wear my special gold hoops that I bought with my own money in high school. Instead (The Voice) said to wear my beaded flower earrings I got in Mexico. They are gorgeous and I’ve been told: healing. Back to Aisle 9: The check out woman is checking out my stuff and she says, “Are those earrings hand made?” I instinctively leaned forward so she could see them better. Somehow, I knew she needed to see these earrings. I said, “I think so, I bought them from a woman’s stand in Mexico.” She said, “I’m a beader. They are.”

That’s when I knew why I was sent in the grocery.

I looked at her and said quite intently, “Good luck beading tonight.”

* * *

Epilogue:

When I was in the car writing in my journal, I had asked for a sign. I needed a sign to show me what I should be doing. When I observed the check out woman, I thought about my own life. She was older than me, maybe late sixties or an early seventies. Maybe. Her brown hair fell from her ponytail — maybe those strands never even made it into the rubber band this morning. Petite and thin, she was shifting on her feet; sighed heavily as she leaned forward to rest her palms on the counter while I paid. She looked tired. I felt her tiredness. It was only 9:30 am but I imagined she probably had to start her shift at 4:00 or 5:00 am. But the need to work at Fry’s started way before then. I looked at her knowing that she had more to give. She had something inside that made her smile, that gave her life and gave her an (artful) purpose in life. We all have this. I truly believe we do. It’s in those moments when we are tired and leaning on something for support that we need that push, that reminder that IT is still there. So. I say to all of you, “Good luck beading tonight.”

Love you.

Bibliography:

I wanted to look up the flower earrings to make sure I was being truthful with my words.

1. LOOK AT THIS! How in the world does the Czech Republic connect with Mexicooo?! I’m floored. https://www.preciosa-ornela.com/story/los-huicholes-199

2. Here is some spiritual and cultural information on the powerful Peyote Flower, Huichol art and Wixarikas people: https://makpalli.com.mx/en/blog/brief-history-huichol-art/

Adios.