Intuition. Action. Transformation.

     Often, we speak of following our intuition.  Sometimes, it relates to people. Sometimes, it relates to a situation in which we find ourselves.  Most often, our spoken words are voiced in hindsight, "I should have followed my intuition."  Such hindsight speaks of an omen that we believe we should have anticipated, and on which we should have acted.
     Hindsight is useless self-torture.  Hindsight may not be the starting point from which we derive our actions for the future.  We are not disciplined to learn the lessons that might otherwise flow from it, if given the opportunity.
     Intuition.
     Intuition must be our starting point.  Disciplined, keen intuition.  We must discipline ourselves to listen to what we intuit--to what we "perceive without reasoning."  To intuit is not to disregard--not to forego--reasoning.  To intuit is the starting point to listen to other people without judgment.  Intuition is the child of to intuit. Only after we have intuited, may we receive an intuition--a keen and quick insight, as it is defined.
    Trust.
     In order to act upon intuitions we are given, we must trust. First, we must trust ourselves.  Trust is the preparation we are given to attune ourselves--our ears and our actions--to any force outside ourselves.  Trust requires discipline.  We must trust ourselves before we place our trust in anyone else.  We may not--we will not--act with trustworthiness always.  However, we must believe that we are trustworthy.  We must believe that we have been given the requisite capacity to act as trustworthy individuals, if we may having any hope of doing so.
     But, we must exceed ourselves in our will to trust.  How do we achieve that aspiration?
     Listen.
     Whom should I listen to?  What do I hear?  Whom do I hear?  Do I hear my voice?
     Cynicism breeds inaction.  Inaction breeds cowardice.
     Reason.
     Action without reason lacks integrity.  Action without intuition lacks the requisite passion to withstand cynical cowardice.
    Only after intuiting, receiving an intuition, trusting, and listening should we even consider acting. 
    Daily living, world events, and current affairs lead me to these convictions.  Now to transform convictions into actions.  That is uncharted territory in my book.  I pray for such trans-formations--for me, for each of us..

The Velcro Principle

     Before today I have not had the courage to express a long-held curiosity.  Are brain damage, short-term memory loss, intuition, and trust connected?  May intuition and trust be nurtured as agents to mitigate short-term memory loss caused by brain damage?
     I preface my reflections with a caveat.  First, at birth--my umbilical cord was wrapped around my neck five times.  Oxygen was deprived from the left side of my brain, which controls the right side of my body--my right hand, arm, and leg.  That brain damage manifests itself in cerebral palsy, and epilepsy.
     I have known no other way of living.  I pray my questions are not excuses for my actions.
     With that said, I have a responsibility to express questions that may not arise as the result of clinical research, the practice of  medicine, or of auxiliary sciences.  I respect the contributions of all three.  Yet, these are not--may not be--the sole arbiters to living more fully.
     Short-term memory.  The Velcro Principle applies.  If there is any hope of saving what soon will be lost, I must stick to the Velcro Principle.
     The Velcro Principle?  The process of writing down the information is vital.  Participating in the adherence of information to my brain is essential.  Reading the information in writing is the next best solution.
     These two solutions are not mine alone, not by any stretch of the imagination. Yet, they are my starting points.
    Intuition.  Trust.
    Intuition?  That unspoken warning that screams out to my ears alone, "This information will be lost to you soon.  Act.  Act now.  Capture this information--act--before it floats beyond your memory's grasp."
    Trust?  "Should I act?  I should be able to remember this information longer.  Others do."
    Trust?  "I know that this information will float away as clearly as a kite in the springtime sky."
    The kiss of death?  "Don't worry about writing this down.  I will give this to you in writing," others tell me.
    The kiss of death.  I hear my voice, "If I do not write now, this information will be lost to me.  I must attach it to my brain with a secure piece of Velcro.  I must adhere to the Velcro Principle."
    "OK," I say obediently to the others.  My voice whispers, "It is OK to stop listening.  But, you know, you are doomed to forgetting, if you stop listening.  Yet, I must obey the others."
     By misplacing my trust from me to others, am I damaging the treasure of intuition that has been given to me?  If I displace my trust of others and replace it into my own hands, could I retrieve the short-term memory lost to me?  Am I disabling myself  by not making use of what has been given to me?  How do I reclaim my gifts without being defensive--without repelling other individuals, who have been given to me in my life?  How do I explain the Velcro Principle?  How do I adhere to the Velcro Principle?