This morning I was having a conversation with my husband which went something like this:
Me: “My intuition tells me…”
Him: “I’d prefer to discuss this rationally blah-blah-blah…”
I’m sure you can imagine where that went. It ended with me grumbling that it’s like being married to Einstein and him grumbling that it’s like being married to a Tarot card reader.
But the truth is, Einstein was a huge advocate of the intuitive mind. In fact, he valued it over and above the rational mind.
Immediately after our conversation I logged into Facebook and – synchronicity! – a friend had posted this:
When I became a parent, my rational brain may have shrunk, but my intuitive ability increased infinitely. Whenever I have a “mother’s intuition” – whether it’s a tiny thought like, “That looks slippery, I better hold her hand,” or a big one, like the one I had when Fi was just two and D. convinced me that she would enjoy the iMax voyage to outer space show that had scary loud rockets shooting off into space. My intuition basically shouted at me that the iMax show would scare the absolute crap out of her, and possibly even put her off movie theaters for good (it did) – but since marriage always involves compromise, I let her go in.
Of course as soon as the rockets took off and all that hell-fire and flaming debris looked like it was coming out of the screen right at her, she lost it and started screaming and I took her out. I scolded myself the entire time about what an ass I was for not listening to my intuition.
Each and every time I choose not to listen to the that part of me – the intuitive part that is so devalued in our rational-minded society – something goes to shit. Parenting and experience have taught me to respect my intuition – but this doesn’t mean I always remember to listen to it.
So thank you, Albert, for reminding me to always go with my intuition.