The Adventure Continues…
An Intuitive Compass
“You are a very strong person, extremely intelligent and gifted in ways you have yet to uncover.” -C.K. Kochis
Following our heart can lead us on a wild goose chase. This past week is a perfect example.
The app I rely on to get me to where I was going would not located the fairgrounds no matter how I arranged the words in the search box. Once I entered the physical address, the app lit up the route. Thank goodness the association hosting the event set up sandwich boards with large arrows along the roadside leading to the parking lot for the 54th Annual RockHound RoundUp Gem & Mineral Show. The app insisted I was going to the wrong way and continued to broadcast “Proceed to the route.” Truly it was an adventure to get to the Southwest New Mexico Fairgrounds in Deming, New Mexico, on Friday, March 8th.
There was a fair number of cars in the parking, but no obvious entrance door for the event. I wondered if I’d walked up to the wrong building. A woman rounded the corner, and I asked, “Is this where I enter the gem show?” She opened the heavy green metal door for me, and said, “Yep.”
Oh my. It felt like I walked into a gemstone, quartz, crystal and mineral heaven.
Sunday, March 10th, was travel day. I’d been at the City of Rocks State Park for eleven days and it felt like it was time to move. New Mexico State Park policy allows campers to stay a maximum of fourteen days; we can return after six nights away. I decided to return to Rockhound State Park south of Deming. I felt comfortable, almost at home, when I previously camped at their location. More than six days had transpired and I wanted to test my luck. Could I get another site with hookups at a campground that’s famously known for being over-full? I was less than an hour away, my black and gray water tanks near full and the closest place to “dump” them was at Rockhound State Park.
When I arrived, I made a loop to see if anything was available before dumping. SWEET! Number sixteen was open. It’s the highest site on the mountainside campground and I was feelin’ like I hit the lottery. I set out a folding chair and moved a cone that was off to the side in the middle of the site to quote-unquote mark my spot. It seemed to take forever for the waste water tanks to empty. I’d left my chair unsupervised at the site, I knew it’d still be there, but…
Once the tanks were empty I drove up the hill, backed into the site and set up camp. I’ve got the routine down to a science so set up doesn’t take me long; 20 minutes tops. I began to fill out the permit and find the cash to pay for the seven night stay.
I heard a vehicle pull up close to my truck. I looked out the window and a class c camper was parked in the site, and a man and woman were walking towards my door. He called out, “Hello?”
I stood in the doorway, and replied, “Yes…”
Before I could continue my sentence, the woman states, “This is my spot.”
Something I haven’t mentioned is that the non-reservation sites are on a first come first “camp” basis. I responded, “The site was empty and I’ve been here for at least forty-five minutes or longer.”
“Well,” the volume of her voice rises, “I left a couple of jugs on the table with a sign stating it was occupied.” She looks at the man and he nodded his head.
“Yeah. I saw it,” he agreed.
“Don’t know what to tell you. But there was nothing here when I pulled up. I even went and emptied my tanks before setting up. There was nothing here, and it’s first come…”
Interrupting me again, she said, “I’ve already paid for the week. This is my site. Where are my jugs?”
“Don’t know where your jugs, or the note, are. Let’s find a camp host to…” I responded.
“I’m a camp host and I remember seeing the jugs on the table before.”
It was clear this conversation was not going in my favor, so I stated, “No problem. I’ll leave.”
“Whoa. Whoa. You don’t have to leave. I can try and find you another site,” said the male camp host. “I knows there’s a space in the group area…”
Before he could finish, I stated, “Nope. I’ll leave. It’s fine.” I already knew there wasn’t any open sites from my drive around the loop upon my arrival. I wasn’t going to argue; it’s not worth it. I admit I was not happy with her relentless bantering about the spot being her site, she’d already paid and the damn jugs.
In less than fifteen minutes, I was on the road and headed down to Poncho Villa State Park. Before I reached the highway, my sister called. Poor timing on her behalf; good timing for me. I let out one long rant while I attempted to remain upbeat and not annihilate her birthday.
Approaching the state park, I could tell I would not be staying long at the campground. I found a spot to park and couldn’t get myself to unhook the camper from the truck hitch. I promised myself, I’d be on the road early in the morning and head north.
My mother and I connected via FaceTime so I could watch my youngest grandson blow out his birthday cake candles. The video call was short due to poor cell phone connection. I could not relax. Something felt off. There was nothing wrong with the campground; it wasn’t that I felt unsafe nor was it run down. Something had my intuitive cackles up and I needed to move. I grabbed another beverage and a banana and headed to the driver’s seat. I drove out of the state park faster than I arrived.
Next destination was Cabalo State Park near Hillsboro. The first camping area, above the damn, was full. The welcoming park volunteer at the gate provided me with directions to the campground below the dam and was certain they had a couple of sites available. It was almost four o’clock and I was tired. I slowly crept over the three of four speed bumps and rolled to a stop where a man stood in the road waiting for me.
“Welcome. How ya doin’? How can I help you today?” said the camp host.
“Good afternoon, sir. I’m looking for water/electric for a couple of nights. Do you have any available?”
“I sure do.” The gentleman provided me a site number and the directions.
Once parked, I unhooked and exhaled.
Tuesday morning, I drove out of the campground and headed north. I kept an eye on the weather apps in the afternoon and evening hours. I counted my blessings as I payed attention to the serve weather alerts surrounding my location. There were snow storm warnings for the higher elevations across northern New Mexico and tornado warnings in the southeast corner of the state. At 5:30 p.m. a tornado damaged/destroyed ten homes in Dexter while two other tornadoes touched down in non-residential areas.
This morning, I’m sitting at my dinning table/desk occasionally looking out at the predawn darkness. Today’s weather warnings include snow storms for the north, snow/rain for the southwest and high winds (gusting from 55 to 80 mph) stretching across the state. I may not understand the reason at the time, however I continue to be grateful that I follow my intuition.
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I have learned the hard way that not following my intuition has consequences. My inner warning light has never let me down. Glad you’re ok.
I understand, and agree wholeheartedly. I’ve learned the hardest lessons when I didn’t listen to my intuition.
If something doesn’t feel right, Cindy, it’s our intuition. We can’t explain our decisions but later understand that we’ve helped ourselves.
I remember way back in November 1987 when I was studying for my Chartered Accountancy qualification in London, my route back home from office involved changing the underground train at the King’s Cross Station because it was the fastest way home.
It was rush hour time and for some reason, I changed my mind at the last minute and chose another line which required changing trains 3 times instead.
When I got home, I had 3 frantic messages waiting for me from my father and the receptionist at the desk of my student accommodation insisted I call my parents in Copenhagen right there and then.
It turned out that there had been a fire at King’s Cross Station and my dad knew my route home was worried after seeing the news on BBC and learning of the 31 deaths and 100 injured people.
Thank God for intuition and thank God you’re okay.
Oh my goodness, Vatsala! I, too, am glad you followed your heart and took the other route. Your poor father. I know that feeling of waiting for a child to call to let me know they’re okay. Thank you for sharing your story with me (us).
Intuition is everything, it truly does guide us along with our angels. I hope you enjoyed the gem & mineral show. I went to one for the first time last year & found it intoxicating!
Intoxicating. That’s an appropriate word to describe gem and mineral shows. I did enjoy myself. I learned a lot about where specific gems/rocks/minerals come from and how they are formed.
This adventure you are on requires you to rely on your intuition even more than usual because you are constantly in unfamiliar situations and locations. So glad you are safe and following your inner compass.
Thank you, Rachel. I am safe and was in the best place to ride out the storm system that blew across the state. I am grateful for the internal nudging to move along.
My work is all about the Compass Within, so naturally I resonated with your experiences. I love the adventure that you are on, Cindy, and how you share it!
I’m thrilled to have you join me on this journey, and it warms my heart that it resonates with you. Thank you, Laurie.