The Art of Intuition

Nicole Chayka is the co-author of the paranormal book 'Fringe Dweller on the Night Shift'The art of intuition is listening to it when it speaks.

Ever see one of those Steven King movies where it was really scary building up the monster that you never got to see?  This post is a little like one of those scenes so please don’t lose it on me for that.  The truth is I never got to see it either.

I am a huge fan of ‘Listen to your Gut’.

I know a lot of people feel silly when their intuition speaks up and they try to play it down, but I’m here to tell you, don’t do that.  Case in point:  I was around 19 on a camping trip in Algonquin Park, Ontario-Canada with my then boyfriend.  Yes, that was a very long time ago because I now have a girlfriend, that’s how long ago it was.   Thankfully I listened when my red flags went off which IS the reason I am here to tell the tale of it at all.

We were having a weekend in rugged, au natural Algonquin and I was really looking forward to a bit of hiking, camping, fishing and of course some tent time with my fella.  I did say I was 19 after all.

We’d arrived a little after supper time in the summer months, and we had just enough light to get our tent up and go for a quick paddle before sun set. Then the evening would finish off with a lovely bonfire, s’mores, shooter drinks, and hopefully a laugh or two.

As we set out in our canoe aimlessly catching the drift and getting accustomed to the stroke of our paddles, we set our sites on a tiny little island in the centre of the lake as a point to aim for.  From a distance it was an itty bitty spot and looked to be the perfect area to pull up the boat and nibble on our sandwiches, but as we came into closer range my heart began to plummet.

I felt like a fool.

Not only had my heart sunk it was beginning to pound faster as adrenaline coursed through my body.  I said nothing as we approached the last 20 meters thinking that my response was uncalled for and embarrassing.  There was nothing on this little rock after all.  I could see no logical reason for this ridiculous outburst of emotion that screamed inside my body to go no further.

I pressed on.

As we pulled up on the rocks I found myself reeling looking around frantically as though the island itself was under suspicion, and still I said nothing as we dragged our canoe up on the sand mooring her there.  Determined to maintain my composure I sat down on the jagged stone outcroppings to fish out our humble dinner when finally my voice found its bearings.

“Michael.”  I said. “I don’t know how to explain this, but every fibre in my being tells me that we’re being watched, and if we don’t get off this island right now, we never will.  Get back in the boat with me and do it fast.”

In one swift motion we were back in the water paddling madly and to my profound relief my high school sweetheart admitted, “I was feeling the same thing too but was too embarrassed to say anything.  I’m so glad you did.”

Now you may be asking what was it that had us so spooked that we tore out of there like our heads were on fire but to this day I still don’t know.  Happily I don’t have to know.  I’m still alive.  If you’ve watched the horror movies it’s Dead guy #3 who goes looking for the source of it or who shrugs off his gut instincts and keeps going.

You can give it all sorts of titles from vibes, to Intuition, to your gut or even your ‘Spidy sense’, but it all amounts to the same thing, your inner knowingness.  Don’t be afraid to let it speak and when it does, for goodness sake, shut up and listen.

Namaste, Nicole

 


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