Thanksgiving and intuition

An unexpected connection

I was fortunate to be invited to a beautiful Thanksgiving dinner at a friends' house last week, my first one ever. It was an evening with about thirty guests, a close circle of family and friends, young and old, from Europe and the US, living in Berlin. The hosts are a couple with two sons in their late teens, the mother from the US and dad from Germany.

Preparing the food took a few days (with the help of friends), each course carefully planned to honour the family tradition of making a Thanksgiving meal through generations, including the sweet potatoes with small marshmallows, 'just like grandma did'.

In between courses we'd answer one of these questions (if we felt like it, no pressure):

• What's something you're especially thankful for this year?
• Looking back on your life, what's something that happened that you're now grateful for, but weren't at the time?
• If you could invite any historical figure to Thanksgiving dinner, who would it be and why?
• What's one small thing someone did for you this year that made a big difference?

I think these questions are great, any time of year, I highly recommend them for your next gathering of any sort.

Each and everyone answered with an open heart, received by deep listening from the others, which with each person who spoke, allowed more vulnerability and sincerity to emerge. In the process, we all felt seen, heard and safe, sharing our seeds of gratitude.

Ripple effects that bring out intuition and InnS?i

From the perspective of intuition and InnS?i, it was a wonderful example of the ripple effects we have on each other - those who went first shared with courage and an open heart, which meant the others felt safe to do so too. It opened up that part of our intuition which has to do with relating, bonding, joy, community, empathising and sense of belonging (Last week I wrote about intuition in relation to mental agility and highest intelligence).

The more sincere and open-hearted we were as we spoke at the Thanksgiving table, the more we got to know each other and our connections deepened. Both within ourselves (my heart beat faster when I spoke and it evoked bitter sweet memories), with those we remembered in the stories we shared, and with the others in the room. There was a strong sense of connection and interconnectedness.

I also felt ripples way beyond place and time, because it made me think of all the families in the US having these moments, while at the same time, "the US" and "US culture", although impossible to generalise, isn't portrayed particularly warmly, friendly, or peacefully in the mainstream media in the current political landscape and power gaming.

From connection to disconnection

Disconnection in any form dehumanises, and it happens gradually, which is part of the reason why it can be so hard to notice and acknowledge. We don't just wake up one morning disconnected. We may very well think and maintain we are connected because we remember what that feels like, but in reality other people experience us as being seriously absent. In this case, it takes a conscious effort to remember what it feels like to be connected to yourself, to be connected with your feelings and how you experience life and events, other people and the world around you.

But let's be clear: not everyone knows what that feels like. Some, actually a lot of people, grow up not knowing what it means to be innately connected with your inner self, and from there, to other beings, the natural world, and the environment around you.

Dangerously disconnected world?

Depending on where we are in the world, our experiences of connection and presence vary. In San Fransisco, some people (including me) sense a deep absence, a zombie like state as they walk the streets of the city that used to be vibrant with life, community and relationships.

"Nobody's home. Not in the young woman with the big headphones cycling against the light. Not in the person in the middle of the crossing staring at their phone, or the person talking to someone who’s not there and ignoring the one they’re pushing in the baby carriage," writes Rebecca Solnit in a recent Guardian article. "Aversion to direct contact with others has become so normal in my home town – San Francisco, a city swallowed up by Silicon Valley."

Many of us are familiar with the extreme promotion of this idea that our cities, towns, the world, countries or in Rebecca Solnit's case, San Francisco, is a scary, dangerous place to walk around in. And we sense "the desire to withdraw, to seek smoothness and avoid the potential friction of contact" which "arises from the view that nonparticipation is self-protection, in contrast to the older idea that being urban is a participatory sport."

When I was attacked

Reading Rebecca's article, which I recommend, made me think back to the year 2001 when I was attacked by three guys on the streets of Pristina in Kosovo, just after the war and a decade of oppression. They shook me hard to rip my leather bag off my shoulder, because they knew I had cash in it. It was just after eight in the evening, it was dark and street lights were a scarce resource.

I noticed that the people around me on the street, turned away from what they saw and walked faster to avoid the situation. No one helped me, or asked if I was okay afterwards. It felt too dangerous for them, "a nonparticipation is self-protection", right? That's what oppression, danger, fear and war does to people.

We don't always know how we react

My reaction to the attack in the moment also taught me a thing or two about myself. It just so happened I was on the phone with my fiancé who lived in another country. Our mobile phone connection broke because of the attack and when I called him afterwards I realised I had reacted differently from how I thought I had. I thought I had been rather composed and silent, although I tried to resist and keep my bag, I knew I could not have the upper hand with three young men. But my fiancé told me that I had reacted in quite the opposite way, I had shouted and used bad language and he could hear that I resisted.

Self-awareness is the first key to intuition and InnS?i. If we're not self-aware and don't have anyone to mirror us, we are not able to harness and hone our intuition, which is fundamental to how we perceive, think and act.

Gratitude is one of the many ways we can practice self-awareness, presence, counter unconscious negativity biases, and connect with ourselves, other people and our environment. We start to notice what we notice, including the good things that are in our lives. We become able to reflect on how we show up with others, and others show up with us. The ripple effects we create have an impact on our lives and how we experience it.

If there is anything I am taking with me into this Christmas season it is to remember what I am grateful for. To be grateful for any or all of the many touch points we encounter during every single day, when a loved one, a stranger or a colleague reminds us that we exist and are alive, by touching our hearts and moving us.

Joy, Community and Gratitude

My friend, the host of the Thanksgiving dinner party, is a heavy lifter in the world of politics, leadership and democracy. It is work that needs heavy lifters given the state of things, and I've often wondered how she does it and is still able to be fun, loving and generous in spirit. She's someone people want to be around and work with. I happened to get a glimpse into the answer to that question, when I heard her final words during an important event at her organisation recently. She said that although it may sound counter-intuitive, science shows that in order to have impact in the world we need three things; Joy, Community and Gratitude.

When we act on those values consciously, we are not only making sure we, and others, are connected, instead of disconnected. We are also, usually unbeknownst to us, aligning with our intuition, grounded in our common humanity, relationships and sense of reality.

When we more consciously learn the ways of intuition, and InnS?i, we better understand that knowledge, experience, stimuli and emotions touch, interconnect and accumulate in patterns inside us in a myriad of ways, which we then project onto the world. We start to remember that we are innately connected to each other and the natural world.