An Ode to Hindsight

I may only be 26 years old, but I already can see glimpses of the transforming perspective that comes with age. I've heard many older adults talk about it... the patterns, pathways, and little evolutions that become visible as time goes on.

What I've been tuning into these past few years is intuition. Some may call it "women's intuition." Others just "going with your gut." But whatever you want to call it, there are gentle nudges and tiny beams of revelation that peek out from inside my conscious and make themselves known. I have no idea where it comes from - similar to the creative process that happens when I am designing a website or print layout - something just surfaces and makes sense.

Intuition might also be called a self-conscience. A quiet whisper or a little poke that you're doing the right thing, going the right way... or the opposite. Having the gift of hindsight, I can recognize the moments when I've ignored my intuition, only to find later on that my first instincts were correct.

But it takes time and clarity of thought to listen and learn from intuition. It's like trying to dial in to a fuzzy radio station; sometimes you can't just turn the knob, you have to mess with the antenna, change your position, or move the stereo itself. Early on, intuition can send mixed signals, and making a decision is like stabbing into the dark.

The perfect example of this in my experience happened in late 2004. John and I spent six months after his college graduation living and working at the International Film Workshops in Rockport, Maine. We had a fabulous summer and because our student loans were on deferment, we were able to save a large portion of our earnings. We'd decided when we first took the jobs - which were temporary six-month positions - that afterwards we would take our savings and move to New York to pursue our careers in film.

Our six months was nearing its end in October, and we began looking for jobs and apartments in Brooklyn, where many of our college friends had moved. We spent almost a month digging through Craigslist, sending friends to scout out apartments, until eventually we found something that would work for us and began the application process. After two weeks of emails, faxes, acquiring co-signers, and filling out paperwork, we were denied the apartment! Stunned and angry, now with only a few weeks before our jobs and lease in Maine would end, we didn't know what to do. We felt burned by the city and took it as a sign: we weren't meant to go.

If I was in tune with my intuition then, I might have tried to extend my position and lease in Maine. I might have kept looking for an apartment in the city. I'm not really sure. But what I wouldn't have done is what we did do: within a week of being denied the NYC apartment we decided instead to move to Austin, Texas.

Blinded by our frustration with NYC, we decided to take a completely different and drastic route. We took our savings, arranged a sublet near the University of Texas, and a week later, we packed up our pickup truck and started driving. It wasn't until we arrived that we realized the miscalculations of our hasty decision: despite having a nickname of the "Third Coast" for film production (after LA and NYC), the job market in Austin was scarce. We were told by neighbors almost immediately upon arrival that Austin had the highest ratio in the country of PHD holders working as waitstaff. We also learned that we had mistakenly found an apartment in the most expensive area of the city. Not a smart move.

Five weeks later we were broke, lonely, with zero job prospects and wounded egos. Despite how much we enjoyed Austin, we re-packed the truck and headed back home.

In retrospect, my intuition told me from the beginning that Austin was a gamble. I chose to ignore the feeling of uncertainty in my gut, never admitting its existence until we fully realized our mistake. But while I know that today I'd make a different decision, I don't regret those five weeks for a second. A whirlwind of self-evaluation and soul-searching, our brief stint in Texas was a priceless learning experience. Not to mention the lingering memory of unmatched Tex-Mex!

But being young(er) and choosing to ignore my gut, I was riskier and perhaps, some might say, a little daft. I hadn't quite come to embrace the power of that little twinge of guidance that, at the time, mimicked a concerned parent.

The older and (hopefully) wiser I get, the more I appreciate the voice of insight that comes when needed. Tuning in and considering all perspectives seems to provide a sounder base for decision-making as well as a clarity of consequence. I hope that one day I can look back and connect the dots - wholly confident in my presence and contented by the paths I've chosen, knowing fully that somehow I knew it all along.