“Come here often?” That was the sign on my mom’s refrigerator when she began changing her eating habits following a diagnosis of Type 2 diabetes. A tiny woman, she died several years ago at the age of 86, but that phrase on her fridge has stuck with me ever since.
I used to complain a lot about being in the kitchen, and usually found myself in full martyr mode. “Nobody else is cooking or cleaning up after themselves! I ‘m having to do it all! …blah, blah, blah.”
Then at a conference we did some muscle testing games about deeply held beliefs. I chose my resentment about being in the kitchen as an example of my clearly held negative belief. Much to my surprise, however, my body’s nonverbal response through muscle testing seemed to indicate that I actually liked the kitchen! So I decided to pursue that mental trail a bit farther….
Then it hit me. Precisely because nobody else dared go in there, the kitchen had actually become my refuge over time, my one private place in the house where my thoughts could flow uninterrupted by regular household goings on and regular thoughts.
Furthermore, at the time this was happening, the kitchen sink in our home in Santa Fe offered an unobstructed view of wild cottontail rabbits and jackrabbits, and birds playing and jousting in the high desert grasses, just outside the window.
My “chores” had given me unbridled access to my intuition, and to the beauty of life around me. I loved looking out that window, while I complained vociferously about having to do the dishes – again!
So many thoughts came to me during those times, about the nature of communication among animals, and between animals and humans. I reveled at how those rabbits managed to play all around that prickly cactus without getting clobbered the way I did when I got too close to one of those painful needles. I talked to them in my mind, and felt them respond to me, sitting still and staring directly into the kitchen window exactly where I stood for long periods of time.
I developed a relationship with these rabbits, and even began leaving them food and water, until I realized that I was developing a dependency I could not promise to fulfill when we inevitably moved away. So I stopped intervening and just enjoyed the show. That little lesson taught me a lot about my human codependency as well, but that is another story.
Thus standing over that kitchen sink became and remains a haven for me to this day. I finally stopped complaining, and now use that time in a different house with no dependents to play with intuitive thoughts while I watch the progression of the sun and moon across the sky, or the neighbor’s garden change with the seasons. It is the single most consistent spot where I get information about people in my life, precognitive phone calls and contacts, and ideas to pursue intellectually or metaphysically. It is certainly more than musing about what to put in my stomach, my fridge, or on my shopping list!
The kitchen is a terrific intuition hot spot, and like the bedroom and bathroom, I actually do “come here often.” What about you?
Here are a just few intuitive games you can play in the kitchen:
- Without looking at the package directions, guess how long your food should take to cook in the microwave and try it. You can read the package after you pick a number, just to see if you are in the ball park. As you continue to practice, watch how much better you get at estimating the perfect cooking time.
- Ask your body what it feels like eating, take the very first thought that comes to mind, and eat that.
- As you eat your breakfast or prepare your lunch, ask yourself the question, “What is the one thing I need to know today?” If you think you will forget later, write that one thing down on your calendar or a notepad.
- As you prepare food for your children or your pets, look at them for a moment and ask the question, “How are they feeling? Is there anything they need, or need me to pay attention to on their behalf?”
Now that I understand the important role of the fridge and the entire kitchen in my intuitive flights of fancy, I can come here often without having to eat everything in sight when I do! Maybe I can translate that deeper yearning into an idea that sticks, rather than into a pound of flesh that sticks instead.
Hmmm, maybe I’ll go into the kitchen now and test out my new idea…or maybe I’ll have another piece of toast! Oops, scratch that. Maybe now that I’m thinking differently about eating, I’ll have another bite of, uh, kale! YUMM!!!