Wednesday, April 25, 2012

My Instincts Are Spot On


I really believe I live a charmed life. It's amazing. My instincts are spot on.

I've thought this so much and so long, all my life, that it was the greatest discovery to me a few years ago that not everyone has the same sense. I was like, "You mean to tell me those folks are not spot on?" And that's exactly what they meant. Which was very weird, because since my instincts are always spot on, it seems like I should've known. I'm chalking it up to some grace in my psychological make-up meant to protect me. Buddha went through the same thing. Then, finally, it was judged by Providence that I could handle the shock and my eyes were opened.

But I'm not looking for thorns in the garden of my existence. I don't think thorns would even grow in my special brand of soil. They'd be choked out by the profusion of blooms, the sprays of foliage everywhere, and the utterly bright sunshine that makes up my environment. It's all spot on. If others are damned to a bitter existence while I've known only Providence, beneficence, and the charms of life, that's their business. Enough said! I'm not even going to try to imagine the terror of their lives. I will only hope there are fewer of them in the world all the time, since the Republicans have already given us enough troubles.

Let's get back to me. And what I have. A charmed life, as I said. I just basically will a blessing, like in the twinkling of an eye, or between random breaths, and there it is, all very spot on! And along with that, enough pure-minded instinct to keep me in the sunshine of prosperity for as long as I live ... and it always seems to work. It's never failed yet.

Spot on instinct! We think of instinct as how animals do what they do. And that's a good meaning of it. A dog is born with instincts, so it barks, howls, eats dog food, and so forth. My dog Underbrush is a great example. I saw a documentary one day that said she was descended from wolves. So when I looked at her, I thought, "Down there somewhere are the instincts to tear me apart." But my instincts, being spot on, and my ability to smooth talk her, along with her routine of eating food provided by me, has thus far kept me safe. And I probably wouldn't do that much worse against an actual wolf!

An average day -- it doesn't have to be anything special -- is enough for my spot on instincts to be on display. I sleep perfectly. I fall asleep just like that. I don't wake up in unpleasant ways, like having to go to the bathroom. I have good enough sense not to drink coffee or quantities of anything before I go to bed. When I wake up, I'm ready for the day. I read the fan mail for my blog (dbkundalini AT gmail DOT com), and usually answer them with a blessing. Everyone likes to hear from me. And I appreciate all your 'Attaboys.' I enjoy three meals a day. Nothing gets me down. I check mousetraps and throw dead ones to the road. And so forth.

I hope life is always this good. My spot on instincts tell me it will be, that it has to be. There's no clouds on the horizon, not one. And I'm not expecting any. Steady as she blows! Clear sailing! Life is good, very good, when your instincts are spot on!

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