I’m not exactly sure what’s going on that I’m so intuitive. A watchful child, I escaped into my imagination, and throughout the day, listened to bouts of inner chatter with those who talked to me inside my head. At the time, I thought the voices came from above the clouds. I knew my brain didn’t originate them.
When I tell fortunes, my brain goes on active, nonstop, improvisational flights. I talk without hesitation in a magical, not logical way. It feels like a high level of spontaneous creativity and my reality is altered. It’s heady and interesting, but not always pleasant when I have to share uncomfortable truths.
Some people seek a reality with alcohol or other mind changing substances. Their truth is altered, but I know it’s their right and their choice. A friend says, your circus your monkey.
As I get older, it’s even more important that I push aside my inhibitions in order to be creative. On Saturday, I sang three songs with a country band at a private party. Before I joined them, my mouth felt dry and I thought I wouldn’t find my pitch. As I stood in the middle, the band leader strummed a C chord. I suddenly felt comfortable and part of the magic. Ecstasy filled me as I sang, listened, and moved my body to the rhythm.
When the party wound down, the band members ate burgers and chilled. The guitarist leaned down to me with a soft kiss on my cheek, and in a low voice said, thanks for joining us on the battlefield.
Five of us, who will never join together again, had a spiritual connection of music and love. That’s intuition. My own battlefield of troubles, euphoria, and the love of making music.
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