A BOULDER IN MY GUT

Do we control our instincts? I speak often on this blog about following my instincts. I've mentioned my strong faith in my instincts is due to a solid track record - it has seldom led me astray. But as I proved just a few posts back (the Suicide post), my instincts are certainly fallible.

I was at a friend's apartment last night and she is faced with a difficult decision: Does she stay with the man she has been dating for the past six months or return to her ex-boyfriend of over five years? The ex has confessed his love passionately and deeply regrets letting her go. The current boyfriend is good to her and she can see a possible future there as well. However, she is torn.

She asked my advice. I told her that I would recommend getting away for a weekend so she can be by herself and, hopefully, by creating some distance from the people involved, see the situation more clearly. Then I asked her what her gut said. I felt that her answer to this question would probably not only indicate which way she was leaning but also which way she SHOULD be leaning. Her answer was, "I feel absolutely nothing. I feel completely bland, blah, whatever. I don't think one decision is better than the other, nor do I feel one is worse than the other."

My suspicion is that she is doing this to herself to prolong making a decision. She is prolonging her agony, which is something I think she likes to do sometimes. She is ignoring her gut - or hiding it under a sheet of ambivalence. She then said, "I think I'm the type of person that will never be happy." I agreed. Not because she can't be, but because she doesn't want to be. It's so funny how that statement pertaining to her seems so ridiculous to me but when it pertains to me it's substantial and valid.

I'm getting a bit off track here - my question is - are our instincts spontaneous visions or are they simply a sum of the truths contained in a series of related experiences? For example, one day I had a feeling, seemingly out of nowhere, that a girlfriend had cheated on me. I called her and "bluffed" that I "knew what was going on." She confessed. Had I been sprinkled with some mystical dust that morning that revealed this hidden truth? Or had a series of previous experiences with this girl led me to an intersection where doubt met truth? And by accepting it, as opposed to ignoring it, I happened to be timely with my accusation? Is there a skill involved? Is it a natural gift? Or is it subconsciously controlled? Is the skill involved actually the discipline to accept a verdict, as opposed to a divine inspiration?

In a way it reminds me of the debate between fate and coincidence. I've always had trouble chalking things up to coincidence. To me, it was like winning the lotto way too many times. Somehow fate seems more logical - which is absolutely absurd to "intellectuals" but I feel there is a case for a strong debate there. Anyhow, I'll save that for another post.

Looking back at what I've just written I can see a biased slant to this topic. It's consistent with my overall belief structure though...so I've got that going for me...(what a strange post to end with a Caddyshack reference).