Instincts are what one should always use as time is never an option for any of us.

I’ve had the opportunity to grow up alongside many different races, religions, and spiritual beliefs. I spent many months in Tel-Aviv, Jerusalem, and many Scandinavian countries at many points in my life. I spent significant amounts of time with people from many different cultural and religious traditions, from Turkish Muslims to Serian Arabs to African atheists to Southern Baptists (even attending a Southern Baptist private school) to Utah Mormons to French Catholics to French Catholic nuns to Italian Catholics to Rastafarians eating Italian food. This vast experience taught me not only that each individual has very unique instincts, but that the cultures we grow up in directionalize those instincts which end up turning into our unconscious beliefs. While these beliefs often dictate the way we behave, this behavior is not synonymous with our Behavioral RNA. Our Behavioral RNA has a far deeper connection to the spirit of who we are outside of the culture we come from and the beliefs we form as a result.

I’ve had the great privilege of experiencing the place on this earth with the most churches per square mile: Jamaica (a.k.a. the jungle). This special place is not just spiritual but rather is home to all cultures, beliefs, races, and creeds. There is no other place like this in the world as no other place has that many religions being practiced all under the banner of one country. It, therefore, forces those from Jamaica (and those who have experienced the country in depth) into deep introspection in terms of the spiritual aspect of life in conjunction with the physical need for human survival. This duality is something that I believe we will all be working to fine tune our entire lives regardless of race, color, creed, or culture. I believe this to be true because, out of the many different kinds of people in this world from all walks of life, we will all remain one in this human race.

In my competitive view, this human race isn’t meant to be won but, rather, participated in and completed to the best of one’s ability. What I believe allows us to co-exist within the spiritual and physical realms is instinct. Instinct itself is like rage in that it has power unto itself but without knowing how to use it appropriately and proportionally it is powerless.

In all my experiences meeting people around the world who believe in something greater and higher than themselves, the common denominator for everyone is a god-like figure and whatever that means to them and their culture. This power is greater than us as human beings both spiritually and religiously. Whatever one believes in between those two, to me, is what instincts are. It’s a signal inside one’s head that is more clear than a voice and more accurate than a sign you can see. It is intrinsic by nature and needs no thought. Instinct is meant to guide and protect but is often ignored because most lack the courage to listen in general terms, much less specifically to themselves. This common, cyclical human issue of not listening to oneself has always caused more harm than good throughout history, but it’s so common that it is accepted as a normal part of life. Most will never confront this part of life.

Forty years ago, my mom had a strange feeling on the way to a New Year’s Eve celebration with my dad. I was 6 months old and she left me at home with a trusted “friend” for a couple of hours to take a well-deserved break. She recalled that in the car on the way to the party she felt something like nothing she had ever felt before. She said that in the physical world, nothing seemed off. Everything seemed to be in order. But her spirit knew without thought that something was wrong with me. Although she couldn’t hear or see me on the way to the celebration with my dad, she knew. Without hesitation, she told my dad that they needed to go and check on me. This was before cell phones, so the only option was to go home. While she hadn’t been able to articulate what she was feeling, her instinct was confirmed when they walked into my nursery and saw me being choked. I was laying in my crib with a string around my neck unable to breathe and turning a color that was not normal for a human body. My mom said it was clear I’d been struggling and crying for some time and, whatever the reason may be, the friend she’d entrusted with my care hadn’t responded or checked on me. My mom is a very original individual in pretty much every way one can think of — from her mothering to who she is as a person to the way she’s executed her life and beliefs. She is a very stoic person in general. Unlike most mothers who enjoy talking and telling stories about their children, she doesn’t say a lot about a lot. She is not one for sentimental reminicsing or storytelling. That she has spoken about this incident at all speaks to the devastating, traumatic effect it had on her. This story is not only a testament to her instincts, but a stark reminder of the risks when one is entrusted with the care of another person’s child. If you don’t know a unique child’s patterns and environment well, you have to be extra vigilant almost to the point of paranoia — even if you’re a parent yourself. If my mom had spent even a second thinking about and second-guessing this strange feeling she had without acting on it immediately, I would not be writing this message today. It is for this factual reason that I don’t just owe my mom my life but that it is owed to her twice.

Seven years later, I came face-to-face with a firearm for the first time. I didn’t listen to my father’s instructions not to go beyond our property line. It was rare for me not to listen to him. Unfortunately, in that instance, my curiosity blinded me to the uncommon sense I knew he possessed. When it comes to people and situational recall, there is no one in the world more sharp, clear, accurate, and observant than my dad. As a child, I remember being mesmerized by his ability to stay calm and focused through the most difficult scenarios and challenges while always remaining realistically optimistic when life’s vicissitudes would attempt to rob our family of happiness. My dad has always been excellent with communication. He has been skilled at communicating with both clarity and emotional intelligence to make sure I understand things in a clear, neutral manner at every age. Despite these facts, I didn’t listen to my instincts that day. I went against my dad’s instructions not to leave the property we resided on at the time. I wanted to see what was down the road. We were in a foreign country living in one of the nicest neighborhoods one could live in. The pristine environment took away any danger I perceived as a child. What I didn’t know at that age, but my dad did, is that people knew that residents in this type of neighborhood did well for themselves and that made us a target. My childhood curiosity overrode my dad’s warning and I ventured out. Exactly 9 minutes after leaving my property, I was being held at gunpoint by persons who had been stalking the property I lived on for a while. They let me know that death was imminent for me. At that point, all I remember is the person attempting to hurt me second-guessing themselves for some reason. I used those couple of seconds of hesitation on their part to run as hard and fast as I could back to my house. I felt like I had cement on my feet, but I kept running despite them being very close behind me. As I ran into the gate, they stopped chasing me. I ran to my father, crying and out of breath, trying to explain what had happened. I told him the story as if I was completely confused at how something like this could’ve occurred. I looked up and saw my dad’s very serious, militarily focused side looking down at me with what seemed like absolutely no emotion but deep care. He said extremely softly, “what did I tell you about going outside of our property?” Immediately (because I knew I was wrong) I started with, “but dad here’s what happened…” As his pattern has always been, my father quietly listened with kindness and no judgment as I stumbled through a series of irrelevant points that had nothing to do with his question or the topic/lesson at hand. He waited and then asked the same question again. Most times with my dad he just stares at me in situations like this for about 10 to 15 minutes without a single word or sound after asking me a notable question and then proceeds with the rest of his day. I’ve never known what he’s thinking, but it seems like he’s in deep thought every time I get in trouble and he stares in silence. In this rare, heightened situation, he made a short statement which was, “when I tell you something, it’s for your best interest. I wouldn’t tell you something that I don’t believe is only to your benefit. I don’t know everything, but I have experience in this world. That doesn’t mean I’ll always be right, but it does mean that you can learn from what I understand.” I sat there contemplating the fact that I almost died right before my 8th birthday and went over what my father had just taught me (as well as the things he may not have realized he was teaching me) which was that he used his instincts to keep me safe. Not only did I not listen to my instincts to listen to him, but I didn’t listen to his instincts that knew something was going to go very wrong on that day.

Twenty years ago, my sister expressed her observation of friends in my life that weren’t around me for the purest reasons. She made it clear that she didn’t think they were the issue. Rather, she suggested it was me because my level of humility was making the friends/associates I was working with (to be fair: teaching, helping, serving, and giving direction to) believe that they were at a level of musicianship, entrepreneurship, and all-around ability that wasn’t exactly accurate. She respectfully (and always softly) explained that if I kept doing that with friends of mine, I could end up with the complication of those friends feeling competitive with me. She explained this would result in not having a clear sense of what they do versus what I do because I don’t like showcasing that in any regard (especially around friends that I want to serve to the best of my ability). Upon reflection, while the premise of my thought process is/was admirable, now that I’m older I see what my sister’s instincts were attempting to communicate to me. Unlike the situation with my dad ten years earlier, this time, I listened. I kept her words in mind and watched as each of my childhood friends’ egos got out of hand as they started learning more and more unique ideas and uncommon sense information from me, and I divulged less and less about myself. I did so naturally because, to me, my accomplishments have no place in serving the people I care about. With that said, since I listened to her objective observations and spot-on instincts, I was able to head off some very complicated and unnecessary battles in my young life. She was correct about my friends and how their overconfidence would develop because of my humble treatment of them and about the blind spots in my humility that I would never be able to see because I can’t see myself. None of us can truly see ourselves. Hence, why the seven closest individuals we choose for our inner circle to help us with this necessary practice are so important.

It is most important to make the distinction in life between opinions and instincts. Instincts are void of ego, judgment, and motive. Instincts are pure unto themselves but can evolve into different shapes based on the individual’s Behavioral RNA as well as the individual’s circumstance. Therefore, when someone is expressing an instinct, it is incumbent on the listener to:

• listen to what the person is saying when conveying their instincts;
• separate the instinctual information from their opinion;
• listen to what they are intending by what they are saying; and
• carefully observe the action that ensues to measure for consistency, transparency, and order of operations.

Have you ever ignored your intuition and/or the intuition of an immediate family member or close friend that ended up being accurate?