One time, my sister Michelle, my best friend Lora, and I were going to be meeting some band friends of ours at their hotel the day before their concert. The three guys we liked, as well as the rest of the band, all came from different cities around the country. The three of us were particularly looking forward to seeing the bass player Carl*, who was flying in from Chicago; the drummer Sean*, who was arriving from Vancouver; and the guitar player Paul*, who was coming from Dallas.
As we drove there, Michelle and Lora started asking me who I thought would get there first. I took a deep breath and tried to tap into my gut to see if I had any special “feelings” on the matter.
Well, after a few moments of silence, I told them that the lead singer George* was going to be the first person we’d see in the lobby, and that Charlie*, the bodyguard, was actually the first person who arrived that morning and that he’d want to spend the day with us because Carl, Paul, and Sean would all be late.
Michelle and Lora laughed at my prediction and told me I was definitely wrong this time because Lora had just spoken to Carl that morning and knew when he left for the airport. Furthermore, we already knew that Paul and Sean were supposed to end up on the same connecting flight and were scheduled to be there a couple of hours before everyone else, and we were supposed to meet them for lunch. But I didn’t care. I “felt” it in my bones that my prediction was correct.
As an aside, I’m not usually comfortable at giving “predictions” like this. Typically, when I get a “feeling,” it washes over me and encompasses me, but I don’t really know how to “tap into it” at will.
Anyway, we arrived at the hotel, and just as we were checking in, George stepped off the elevator and walked up behind us. “Hi, girls!” We jumped and spun around, stunned to see him. We said we thought he wasn’t supposed to be there until that evening, and he told us he took an earlier flight.
A few minutes later, George left, and Charlie came walking in from outside. He picked us up and twirled us and asked if he could take us to lunch and the beach since Paul, Sean, and Carl wouldn’t be there until that night. Michelle and Lora both shot me a look, and we asked where they were. Charlie said he just got off the phone with Paul and Sean. Apparently, there was a long delay with their flight, and Carl got bumped off his flight for some reason.
[*Not their actual names]
So how about you? Have you ever had a detailed, strong feeling about something and been accurate in your prediction? While you read this, did “Okay, that Rachel’s just weird!” cross your mind? (Be honest.)