The simplest way of knowing

The most com­plex sys­tems humankind can come up with, are in essence, made of Yeses and Nos. On and Off. The pres­ence and absence of what­ever. We are drawn to oppo­sites. They make our minds light up with the desire to ease or inflame the result­ing ten­sions. If the answer is Yes, we think in how­ev­ers. If the answer is No, we dream about per­haps. Whether we like it or not, in what­ever real­ity we are bas­ing our pres­ence, some­thing either Is or Isn’t (whether this is actu­ally the case in an infi­nite uni­verse, is a post for another day).

To divine is to know. It is to sur­mise an indi­ca­tion of future events. 

The sim­plest way of know­ing is called Clero­mancy. Throw­ing lots. There are many forms. This is per­haps the eas­i­est. I will teach you now.

To begin, you will need a lot of things.

You can get ornate. An abalone shell full of stone beads, for example.

Some lots are more deli­cious than others…

I pre­fer my jar of lentils. I like the way my fin­gers feel when I dip them in a dish of dry grains.

The sim­plest way of know­ing requires the sim­plest kinds of ques­tions. Yes or No. This way or That way. Red pill or Blue pill. 

My daugh­ter frac­tured her leg last week. She is going in for exrays on Mon­day and there is the slight­est pos­si­bil­ity she may get her cast off (there was dis­agree­ment over whether or leg was actu­ally frac­tured, but the stan­dard is to over-treat, espe­cially for chil­dren). My ques­tion is, “Will Freyja get her cast off on Monday?”

Know­ing your ques­tion, under­stand that 1 = Yes, 2 = No. That is, all odd num­bers = 1 = Yes, all even num­bers = 2 = No.

Don’t think about the next step too much, just do it. Expe­ri­ence it.

Scoop up some of your lot with your hand and place it in another dish or on the table.


And then count.

64. No, Freyja will not get her cast off on Mon­day. I’ll report back and let you know how it goes.

Now it’s your turn. Test the method as often as you can over the next week. In the com­ments here, on a blog post or face­book, cast your own lot. What was the result? Now report back when you can. Was your pre­dic­tion correct?

Update: My pre­dic­tion was true. She had to endure three more weeks in the cast.

On Intuition and Coincidences

The Intu­itive nudges us toward the Divine. Always. They are both parts of the whole, after all. And this is how you know you can trust it. Ask your­self, would I be closer to divin­ity? If the answer is yes, rest assured you’ve tapped that deep know­ing well.

Intu­ition presents itself in dif­fer­ent ways. Some­times those bits of flying-about Uni­verse that catch in our dreams, visions, mind eyes and hearts, are messy to process. Some­times it’s painful to hear. Some­times it’s the obvi­ous you were avoid­ing. Some­times it’s the inspi­ra­tion you were wait­ing for.

And some­times it’s the tears at the gro­cery store. Push­ing us toward flour, salt and water.

Some­times it’s the bleak­ness of midwinter.

That if we can look past, would unveil, through the spit­ting snow and bit­ing cold, a kind of life still in the trees.

Some­times it’s sweet­ness in an indul­gence. A sacred moment that we can pro­long for hours through ingenuity.

And some­times it’s a skill we have to invoke, by cre­at­ing a space and wait­ing for the light — which is easy to find if we stand very still, and are will­ing to get very, very close.

I have an intu­itive sense for magic-making and for see­ing pat­terns that unfold into the future, like an origami chain build­ing in one direc­tion, one moun­tain or val­ley at a time. But it’s not some­thing I can do on auto-pilot (at least, not yet). I have to slow down, lis­ten care­fully and get present to make it work. My coin­ci­dences start to pile up when I choose instead to bury my head as though  it doesn’t exist. Being intu­itive isn’t always fun. Mostly it’s not fun at all. And I would like to pre­tend I could live in igno­rant bliss of the future, of my path, of your path; of the pain I know we will both expe­ri­ence. But then I read cards for some­one who is des­per­ately cling­ing to that igno­rance, and I real­ize that it’s not bliss­ful at all.

What is most impor­tant for you to remem­ber is that you are NOT CRAZY for lis­ten­ing to the voice of your inner self. Your intu­itive sense is per­haps the most impor­tant sense you can develop. Like our other senses, it is how we nav­i­gate our lives. How we make deci­sions. How we expe­ri­ence the sacred (or mun­dane) of our everydays.

How do you expe­ri­ence yours?