Trust in the Divine

A few years ago I went to a neuro-linguistic programming workshop and the organizer said desire works in one of two ways: push or pull. We either say, “Yes, that” about something, or “No, not this.” What I'm realizing is intuition works in the same way.

I'm familiar with the “yes, that” intuition – it drove me to move to San Francisco, to call that person last week, to read that book. I know how to handle “yes, that” intuition. “No, not this” is more challenging. I don't mean the one-off, “Don't go down that dark alley” sort. That's easy to listen to. What I find more difficult is the sort of intuition that says, “You can't live here” and there's no other home showing up. Or the intuition that says, “You can't work here” but another job is not on the horizon. It's the directionless, leap-of-faith intuition that unnerves me.

 I associate light with the divine. Photo by Micah Hallahan on Unsplash.

My spiritual teacher defines intuition as a reflection of Consciousness, or Spirit. He also says that meditation leads to a clearer reflection of Consciousness. When I think about it like that, intuition becomes more simple. It's a snapshot in time. It's an expression of something greater than me, not a seven-point plan for life.

Something I often tell my mentees is higher power will shine a flashlight, dictating where to put our feet next, and that's it. I want higher power to light up the sky and show me all the steps, give me all the directions, indicate exactly where I'm heading, but it doesn't always work that way. In my experience, the way forward is often unknown and my part is to trust the path will appear. Even when it's scary, even when it doesn't make sense, even when it flies in the face of conventional wisdom.

It's interesting for me to notice when I play trust games with people I have no problems. I will close my eyes and allow myself to walk forward blindly, knowing the people I'm playing with will keep me from running into trees or stumbling over rocks. However, when it comes to trusting the divine, I don't feel quite so fearless. I'd much rather keep my eyes open and see where I'm going.

The conclusion I'm coming to is at this point in my life my eyes must stay closed. I'm getting the full, well-rounded picture of intuition, trusting the future will be exactly what I need. Trusting that even though I can't see what's next, the divine can and is taking care of it.

I dream of a world where we recognize intuition doesn't always guide us to something, that sometimes it steers us away from something. A world where we realize we can't always know exactly what's next. A world where we remember taking a leap of faith means trusting in the divine and we do just that.

Another world is not only possible, it's probable.