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 She gave me a marble on the last day. As I started to hand it back, she said, "Keep it." Most of time I found myself tripping over my own words, rambling on about this and that. I spoke fast, my mind on fire. Sometimes I apologized for complaining, and she said, "It's not complaining; it's figuring it out." She always sat across from me, looking right at me, interpreting, rephrasing, making connections I never saw. She had that voice, that calm voice that balanced out my fast-paced chatter. I was nervous, anxious and tired at the beginning but somehow, I managed to find some peace of mind and slowed myself down. By the end, I talked how I normally talked and felt how I usually felt: calm, patient and collected. "It's a process," she said. She told me I had the answers inside me, that I just needed to let go and trust my intuition. "I overanalyze a lot, I know," I said. She said my self-awareness is refreshing and it's good I know this about myself. "Let's work on going from here (points to the head) to here (points to the gut)," she told me. It was like riding a bike for the first time without training wheels. I spend a lot time in my head, just in there, evaluating any situation or reaction I'm faced with. Human intuition is something we don't give enough credit to, our "sixth sense." I tried it out on small situations like deciding what kind of cookie I wanted from the local bakery. Normally I would look at all the choices, think about what I'm in the mood for, and try to decide on one cookie. Instead, I went in and said, "Oatmeal raisin, please." I didn't glance at the selection; I went with my gut. When I walked out of the bakery with cookie in hand, I slowed down and thought, "Well, that was... easy?" I have a terrible habit of making simple things complicated. On the last day, she taught me some exercises on how to get out of my head. It was weird, focusing on minute details and losing myself in a different but quiet place. Then she gave me a marble. It's a greenish yellow color, shiny and smooth. It might have been from her collection or she might have gotten it from a street vendor. She told me to hold it in my hand, to feel it, to focus on how it felt. Again, I lost myself in a different but quiet place. "Keep it," she said. She smiled at me and nodded. |
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Hi, my name is Amy. Be well, and say hello!
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