Snoop Blog

We have a fire bowl that sits a few feet away from our deck in the back yard. It’s great for these cool autumn evenings. We love sitting around it, drinking wine, making smores. . . Okay, we’ve done that twice in 10 years, but still, it was fun. Recently, my husband started a fire in the bowl while our 6 month old granddog, Snoop, (yes, that’s right, Snoop Dogg) was outside. I watched from the kitchen window worrying, because, after all, that’s what I do, that Snoop would get too close to the fire and hurt himself. He walked to the edge of the deck, stretching his shoulders and neck as far out as he could toward the fire, with his nose in the air, nostrils flaring. He breathed deeply in and out, several times. Then he promptly turned around and walked the other way.

After a careful assessment the baby dog knew that fire was something to avoid. His instincts told him. It left me standing there wondering about a few things. Like, for instance, why his instincts don’t tell him not to eat paper towels, or highlighters, or lunch money. But, I digress. The thing that really caused me to take notice was that he took the time to investigate something new, from a curious but safe vantage point, and when he determined it was not a good thing he wasted no time in removing himself from proximity to it.

You know where I’m going with this, right? Why, if our animal friends are savvy enough to trust their instincts, is it so hard for we humans to do the same? I can think of about a bazillion instances when I, or a friend, or a family member, or a coaching client, approach a situation, maybe something new and flashy and enticing like a bright orange flame on an autumn night, and despite the fact that our instincts jump up and down, shouting No! Wait! Don’t! Think about this!, we walk right into the fiery mess and get burned.

Or, we find ourselves engaged in an activity or a relationship that just doesn’t feel right. We can’t really say why, exactly. But on some core, physical, solar plexus level, something is amiss. Do we immediately extricate ourselves, trusting that to do so will serve us well? Uh, not really. Typically we hang around long after we know better, allowing what might have been just a superficial little burn to deepen and fester until we are truly and lastingly wounded, now requiring months of healing work to regain our “normalcy,” wherever our spot on that continuum might fall.

I’m not sure when we learn to disconnect from our instincts. Maybe it’s when we start listening to others telling us what we want, or feel, or think, or like. The origin of the phenomenon isn’t really the issue. The issue is tuning back in. Being willing to fiddle with our inner dials until the instinctual intuition is loud and clear again, and then LISTENING! Taking to heart what our hearts tell us.

Take a minute each day to practice listening. And, if you’re lucky enough to have kin in the animal kingdom, watch and learn. Investigate new opportunities and adventures openly and fully, with nose in the air and nostrils flaring. Determine if what you’re feeling, deep down, gut-level feeling, is attraction or avoidance. Then follow that instinct confidently into the future.