My friend, John Manley, a fellow member of Self-Realization Fellowship, told me a powerful story about the importance of listening to your intuition. It gave me chills as he was telling it to me.
But first, a little background on John, who is an author of metaphysical speculative fiction. About a decade ago, he had been living in an SRF ashram in California for a couple of years. Determining that the monastic life was not his path, he moved back to his hometown of Toronto. He stayed there for two months before heading off to Italy for two years to study art. Every week, he attended an SRF meditation group in Toronto. On the day of a special commemoration service for Babaji, the first in the SRF line of gurus, he got off the subway and headed toward the center. Here’s what happened next, in his own words:
I saw a woman ahead of me and thought, Oh, I know her. I’ve seen her at the meditation group. So I came up to her and said, “Are you going to the Babaji ceremony?” She said, “The what?” She had never heard of Babaji. I said, “Oh, sorry, I thought you belonged to the meditation group I go to.” She said, “What meditation group is this?” I said, “Oh, it’s nothing.” She said, “No, I want to know about it.” So I told her about it as we were walking. As we neared the center, I pointed it out and said, “This is where it is. Sunday mornings they have a service if you ever want to come by.” I said goodbye and went in for the Babaji ceremony. She continued on her way to work.
Two years later, when I got back from Italy, I came to the center and there she was. Her name was Nicole. She had taken initiation and was a full-fledged member. She told me that after she had met me, she was very interested in what SRF was all about. Soon after, at a doctor’s appointment, her doctor said, “I have this book I think you’d like to read.” It was Autobiography of a Yogi. She thought, Something’s going on here. A few weeks later she read the book and was really into it so she went to the center. The first time she went to the center, she saw the spiritual eye (during a meditation). So she got on the path. For two years she didn’t know where I was. She didn’t know my name. Suddenly I was there again. It was like, He’s back! Where have you been? We got married a year later.
One more bit of information on John and his family: His father passed down a genetic eye disorder that John then passed on to his own son, Jonah. His father’s vision is fine; John’s vision is half of what it should be; Jonah is virtually blind.
And now, here is John’s harrowing story:
I slipped on my boots without tying them and ran out the door with no jacket. The cold February air quickly sunk into my bones.
Not far from home, I found my wife Nicole semi-conscious, unable to talk and barely able to stand. Our three-year-old son stood by her side. As soon as she saw me she collapsed. Nicole is diabetic and, for whatever reason, her insulin pump had dropped her blood sugar almost to nothing.
She and Jonah had left home around 11AM to go to a park about five minutes away. Nicole said they’d be back by noon. Even before noon hit I had this uneasy feeling. When noon came my whole being was saying: “You gotta go find them. Now.” But my mind reasoned: “She’s probably talking to another mom. You don’t have time to be running out the door every time they are five minutes late.” By 12:10 PM the feeling inside had become impossible to ignore.
Somehow I carried her and Jonah back home. Jonah was scared and refused to walk. So I’d carry one about ten feet and then went back for the other. I couldn’t carry them both at the same time so I just kept on alternating.
Once I got them home I knew what to do. Thirty minutes later we had brought her blood sugar back to normal with a cup of orange juice.
I wish I had gone out sooner to search for them. If I had waited longer the results could have been deadly.
That was actually the second time this had happened. The first time, about a year ago, they had gone downtown to do some errands. When I got out of the office around 11:30 AM, there was a voicemail from a lady saying that she found Nicole unconscious at a table in a café.
Nicole had started to feel like her blood sugar was dropping fast. She vaguely remembers taking Jonah into a café to eat something. She ate whatever she bought and then collapsed in the seat. Jonah thought it must be nap time, so he curled up at her feet and went to sleep.
When the food (or her liver’s sugar store kicked in) finally got into her bloodstream, she came to and asked for help. She’d been out for 45 minutes and nobody even noticed. She could have easily died and Jonah could have been kidnapped.
Discerning what is intuition and what is imagination is a tricky game. We are not trained as children to develop the sixth sense. We are not taught that we are all-knowing spiritual being trapped in physical forms limited by five short range senses.
I figure it’s better to follow your gut and make plenty of mistakes… until you can fine-tune your sensitivities.
I agree with John’s assessment. When your inner guidance urges you to take action, follow it without hesitation. Don’t try to analyze it; intuitive knowing is beyond the scope of reason.
The courage to honor your guidance requires a unique blend of faith, hope, trust, and obedience: faith that you are being pointed in the right direction, hope that the outcome will be rewarding, trust that it will, and obedience to the divine force that operates in your best interests.
Click here for a post on how stumbling upon a metaphysical concept helped John Manley heal his grief over the loss of his stillborn daughter.
Speaking of intuition and diabetes, here is a story by J. Ted Rosien of Seattle, Washington that eerily echoes John’s experience with Nicole. It was featured in a Guideposts e-letter. Click here to sign up for Guideposts‘ free Mysterious Ways newsletter. You’ll also be able to download a free e-book, Mysterious Ways: 9 Inspiring Stories That Show Evidence of God’s Love and God’s Grace.
A CALL FOR HELP
I heard a voice telling me to call my friend. I almost decided not to.
Call Mike. The thought startled me, so strong I hesitated for a second before heading toward the front door. It was a sunny Saturday morning and I was on my way to a 9 a.m. doctor’s appointment.
I’ll call him when I get back home, I told myself. Why call him now?
Mike, a long-time friend of mine moved from Seattle to Montana years ago, but we keep in touch about once a week. I had last spoken to him only a few days earlier, and he’d been fine. I felt a bit silly for believing I’d heard a voice. I’m not one to believe in that sort of stuff.
But just as I opened the front door—Call Mike! Louder, more insistent than before.
I couldn’t ignore it any longer. I walked over to the phone, picked it up and dialed Mike’s number.
“He…Hello?” Mike answered.
“Hey Mike, It’s Ted. How are you?” Mike started to answer, but his words came out slurred. Then he started speaking gibberish. He didn’t make any sense. Something’s not right, I thought.
Immediately I hung up and called information, asking for the sheriff’s department in Mike’s county. I told the sheriff Mike’s address, and how strange Mike had sounded on the phone.
“We’ll send someone over to check things out,” the sheriff assured me.
Could be I just woke Mike from a nap, or we had a bad connection. But in any case, I felt a lot better. That insistent voice was gone. I headed to my appointment.
A few hours later, my phone rang. It was Mike. “Ted, how did you know to call me when you did?” he asked.
“What do you mean?”
“I’d just gone into insulin shock,” Mike said. “I couldn’t get to my diabetes medication in time. If you hadn’t called for help, I probably wouldn’t be here right now. You saved my life.”
Click here to view all the Guideposts stories on this blog.
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