When It Comes To Wellness…Trust Your Intuition

The craziest thing happened today, so I just switched topics mid-blog to write about it. The blog I was working on will be posted next week.

So I’ve written before about my intuition, gut feeling, “knowing,” whatever you’d like to call it. (Here’s a link to my blog about Sedona that features this: This One Is About Sedona (Sort Of)

I’ve doubted myself many times in life, but when it comes down to it…I know can trust my instincts.

We all can. But I’ll get back to that in a bit.

Right now I’m going to tell you this wild story.

Eight years ago…almost to the day, in May 2016…we moved into the house I live in now. And right around that time, my younger son Parker lost his stuffed bear and dearest companion, Bee. 

Since the details are fuzzy and there’s always a lot of chaos around a move, none of us could recall if Bee was maybe left behind in a park or restaurant. We knew Bee wasn’t at the townhome we’d just vacated because we still owned it and were preparing to rent it out.

But as fellow parents will attest, a misplaced stuffed animal can bring on an emotional tirade like you’ve never seen. And this was no different. My little boy (who was five years old at the time) was just beside himself.

Fortunately, I had read enough parenting blogs back then to have been prepared for such an event. I’d purchased an identical bear a couple of years earlier and gave that one to my son to console him. He wasn’t fully convinced that Bee number two would compare, but he was old enough to understand the reality of the situation. He calmed down and accepted the replacement.

But something inside me kept telling me that Bee hadn’t been left behind…that he was still somewhere in our house. And over the next eight years it became somewhat of a family joke when something would go missing: ”Oh, maybe it’s with Bee.”

I’ve been looking for my old journals for well over a year, and recently I’ve stepped up the search. Scouring every closet, cabinet, and box in my house and garage…but I’ve not found them and it’s been really upsetting.

I recall mentioning to my husband years ago that I didn’t want our boys to ever read them because of how brutally I write about myself in them.

I can picture the covers…I think there are six of them. Anyway, that doesn’t matter. 

The thing is that the other night I commented to my husband that maybe they’re with Bee. And then I said the same thing to Parker while driving home from school a couple days ago. He went on to tell me about a dream he had where he found his first Bee the Bear under the couch and recalls seeing himself in the dream holding both bears.

So last night I was lamenting to my husband about how maybe I threw away my journals, but how that doesn’t make sense because it takes me an enormous amount of effort to throw anything away. Especially something super personal. I mean, I still have letters that my parents wrote to me when I left home before email existed…hell, I think I still have the letters that my ex-husband wrote to me during the one summer we spent apart in college.

But in my tearful commentary, I asked my husband for a favor. 

Our old couch, the one we had when we moved into our house, is at his workshop. (Seriously, we RARELY get rid of anything. Come look in our garage and you’ll see what I mean.) I told him about Parker’s dream and asked him to please just take a look under the couch and through the cushions just to see if by some miracle Bee turns up.

And today, at 11:10am, he texted me this:

“Are you f*cking kidding me?! He unzipped the cushion and put it inside…”

With this pic:

Bee inside our old couch

Y’all.

Bee was literally IN THE COUCH.

That five-year-old boy had found the zipper in the cushion of our old couch, unzipped it, stuffed his bear into it, zipped it back up, and then completely forgot what he’d done.

OG Bee the Bear

AND I KNEW!!!! 

We all knew, really. And the 13-year-old version of that little boy actually dreamed about it, so I guess he did remember in his unconscious mind.

Both Bee the Bears

Why am I telling you this? 

Well, first - it’s a really great story (not to mention the fact that my son is quite possibly a prophet).

And second - it’s telling me not to lose hope of finding my journals. My intuition is telling me that I didn’t toss them, I just hid them really well.

And third - Our intuition tells us exactly what we need to know, but we often second and third guess ourselves, or make up excuses for other people, or dismiss a feeling because we think we need to be polite, or or or…

Our bodies tell us what to do, but along the way many of us have stopped listening. 

When we were babies, we cried when we were uncomfortable. We slept when we were tired. We ate when we were hungry and stopped when we had eaten enough. 

Your body wants you to listen. Every time you ignore your emotions, every time you push through exhaustion, your body is telling you something by throwing urges at you.

If you’re just existing, just pushing through the day on autopilot and using food to cope, I offer you this: Next time you’re about to eat something and you’re not actually hungry, stop and listen to your body.

Sit quietly. Close your eyes. Take a few slow, deep breaths.

What is your body telling you? Are you tired? Over-stimulated? Sad?

What do you REALLY need in that moment?

With practice you’ll begin to really hear what your body is telling you. You’ll be able to tell when you’ve eaten enough and overeating will become less frequent. You’ll allow yourself to rest instead of pushing yourself to work longer to “just get this one last thing done”.

I’m telling you, it makes ALL the difference.

The moral of the story? When you feel like you’ve lost hope, turn inward and listen to that quiet voice inside you. 

Not the one that shits all over you…that’s the loud one. Practice lowering the volume of that one.

I’m talking about the one that whispers. The one that believes in you. The one that KNOWS you. 

The one that you listened to before other people influenced your opinion of yourself…the one that you followed before adulting showed up and kicked you in the throat.

When you hear it, you’ll know. And that’s when everything begins to shift.

Love & hugs, 

Dana