That Little Voice

That little voice is always there. We all have one, maybe two. We simply need to acknowledge it exists and allow ourselves an open mind to hear its counsel. Trust me, I don’t have a multiple personality or dissociative identity disorder of any kind. At least I don’t think so. To be clear, I’m not poking fun at anyone who is coping with this condition. With that disclaimer out of the way, the little voice I am referring to is also known as our intuition. But what is it exactly? At the risk of seeming to be “out there” (or as my friend describes it; being connected to the woo woo world), based upon so many past experiences I firmly believe my intuition is a connection between me and my spirit guides, or if you prefer, my guardian angels. They’re always with us—from our entry into this physical world at birth, to the time we are called back home. It’s that little voice that warns us something isn’t right or makes the hairs on the back of our necks stand up, it is that funny feeling that convinces us to delay a trip, take a detour, or even think of a long-lost friend or relative right before they call. How many times have we had that happen and say “what a coincidence, I just thought of her yesterday!”

One afternoon many years ago I was in San Francisco hoping to reunite with a friend. It was spontaneous on my part because she didn’t know I was in town; I thought I’d surprise her. But this was long before cell phones and after several attempts to reach her on her home number I had given up hope. Feeling defeated as I drove away from her apartment, I was heading back to the freeway to continue my journey—the memory of her face and her laughter firmly on my mind. That’s when my little voice kicked in. Instead of turning right onto the on-ramp when the light had changed, I continued straight. At each subsequent intersection, I followed my gut—never second guessing a right or left turn, I eventually ended up at a local farmers market. That’s when my little voice went silent. I knew I was directed there for a reason. So, being hungry, I decided to check out the myriad of tables filled with fresh produce, juices, and other goods. Sure enough, there she was helping some friends sell their wares. We had lunch and spent a couple hours catching up before continuing on my way.

On several occasions, while driving and simultaneously deep in the imaginary world of a current book project, I’ve arrived at my final destination without being able to recall any part of the drive. How did I not end up in a ditch on the side of the road? Please keep in mind that I don’t imbibe or do drugs. Although one time after driving home late at night through a torrent of rain and wind (it was a dark and windy night…), and not being able to recall most of that journey, a stiff drink would have been justified.  Was one angel providing the crystal-clear imagery of my next chapter while another angel took the wheel and safely guided me home? To that end, I believe my guardian angels have worked with me when I am writing—from an idea that wakes me in the middle of the night, to when I’m searching for just the right phrase, or better yet, when I’ve finished several pages of dialogue between two or more characters, and I then have to read what I couldn’t recall writing. Sure, my fingers were dancing all over the keyboard, but I am convinced that those characters, by way of that little voice (my guardian angels or spirit guides) dictated the direction, tone, and length of the conversation. As I button this up, they’re laughing right now because one of them just said they should receive equal billing on my book covers. What’s next, a percentage? :-)