I was four years old the first time I remember hearing the voice. I was playing in the front yard and my toy rolled onto the sidewalk. We lived on a busy street and I knew I was not allowed to step off the lawn, but I really, really wanted that toy. My mother was inside with my baby brother, and I figured she’d be none the wiser if I quickly jumped out onto the sidewalk, grabbed my toy and ran back. As I went to step out, I heard a voice say very lovingly, “Cheryl, you know you’re not supposed to do that.” It seemed to come from both inside my head and above me at the same time. I quickly looked around but no one was there – just my cat, Inky. I eyed Inky suspiciously. Until that moment I didn’t know she could talk, but it was the only explanation I could come up with. I decided I better not go on the sidewalk or Inky might tell my mother.

That was over 50 years ago, and I have heard the voice numerous times since then. I learned over time that this is the sound of my higher self. Sometimes it’s barely there in the background, pointing me in the right direction with a nudge or a song lyric, or a bit of humor and love. Other times she comes through loud and clear with precise instructions or suggestions. No topic is too large or too small to engage my higher self, and the range of comments over the years have both startled and amused me. I was at a party once and got the word very distinctly, “Do not eat the blue cheese dressing.” Bummer, because that was my favorite. Another time I was at home musing about work and my need for a creative outlet, and I heard the name of a magazine for poetry and literature that was accepting submitted articles. Car maintenance is always a popular theme: “put air in your tires,” or “get gas now, not later.” More recently, I agonized over putting our beloved ancient cat to sleep or letting her final illness take its course. I was assured that either decision was valid, and that my cat was at peace either way.

Do I always follow this wise guidance? The short answer is no, not all the time. I did skip the blue cheese dressing that day, but I did not submit anything to the literary magazine. I do check my tires or buy gas when I get the message, but I did not move or relocate when I “heard” about a more ideal town. I don’t always follow the suggestion, but I do always listen. And who knows, I may still end up living in that better town a few years from now, just as I wound up writing at a different online magazine a year or so after the first suggestion. I imagine my higher self smiling at this and lining up the next thing she wants me to do.

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