How often do you listen to your gut/instinct? I mean really listen. Not just in a "hey, maybe you shouldn't eat that fifth donut" kind of way, but more like "hey, something's telling me not to take Calvary Church Road and go the long way around on 985 instead" kind of way.
I do. Or, at least, I try to. I mindfully listen to myself. This may sound kinda hippy-dippy or whatever, but I've always thought that if there's any smidgen of "supernatural" ability out there, it's precognition/prescience. I think I've written about the deja vu phenomenon before, as well as jamais vu. I find it all personally fascinating. I'm not saying I can sense when a truck has run off the road and traffic is blocked for an hour, and I've not been one of those stories yet where the person says they told their so-and-so not to go to some place, and it ends up getting bombed or a gunman comes or whatever, but I don't discount any of my gut instincts.
Our bodies and minds are amazing and intricate, and I'm not just saying that because I've been eyeball-deep in studying about the genitourinary system for the past two days. (It might have more to do with the fact that I've started watching Fringe. Love it.)
So whether it's good sense or gut instinct, knowing when to say/do/feel/think anything is a skill worth cultivating. Chuck Wendig wrote something about it today. You should read it.
I've made some big life decisions for myself in the past week. One of them was the decision that now isn't the time to query my novel. I still think it's ready. I still think it's worthy. I was just starting to get really bad feelings about it, especially in relation to my other stuff, so after seeking some confirmation on what my gut was telling me (and I was trying not to hear), I went with it.
It was incredibly freeing. I've been creatively blocked for a year or more now, it seems, but two nights ago, less than a week after eschewing myself from the terrible self-imposed burden of OMGPUBLISHING, I started writing something new and strange and wonderful. I have no clue where it's going, what it's about. I don't even know the narrator's name. As a tried-and-true plotter of novels, it's definitely a change of pace. Maybe that's what I needed. Maybe that's what my gut was telling me.
Forget that song's advice about listening to your heart. All that lump of muscle wants is oxygen, anyway. Go with your gut. It outranks you, anyway, if you consider your colony of bacteria to have a voting factor...