Count Me Out (Intuition)

“Relax said the night man, we are programmed to receive. You can checkout any time you like, but you can never leave.” – Hotel California, The Eagles

Some people seem to waltz through life unaffected by the world around them. They don’t seem to notice the annoyances, discomfort, or pain of others. Or if they do, they don’t let it bother them. I am not one of those people… although I’d like to be. As a sensitive soul, I take EVERYTHING in. I can easily buy into the ideas, beliefs and stories of other people. It’s as though a spell is cast on me and instantly, I exchange my truth for theirs.
Count Me Out is a song about using intuition to stay in my own truth. It’s about recognizing when I’ve checked into someone else’s “Hotel California” (or my own) and checking myself out as fast as possible!

When I am around other humans, I usually find myself in a permanent state of fly-swatting where I’m constantly trying to swat away their beliefs so that they won’t penetrate my own fragile belief system. Sometimes it’s easy. For instance, I might see a news headline that triggers a fear about the terrible fate of the world and I can simply shoo it away…. like a mosquito. But other times, it can be more like a big, angry hornet. If it stings me, I’ll be hurting for days. One really bad sting happened when I was 27. I was feeling un-pretty and particularly vulnerable about my appearance when someone told me I looked like I was 45! Another sting happened when I was in my early 30’s. I was struggling financially and worried about my future as an artist when I randomly bumped into someone who took it upon themself to tell me how few artists over the age of 30 survive in the music industry. They went on to back it up with statistical data!

In my early years, I tried to avoid people who might accidentally sting me (I’m sure you know the type). To be honest, I’d avoid all conversations that might challenge or trigger my numerous sensitivities. However, I quickly learned that a career as a performer is not the ideal place to hide. You’d be surprised how remarkably honest people can be, especially in a bar setting once their filters have been loosened by alcohol. Becuase of this, I developed many strategies to checkout of “stinger” conversations, but I was definitely going to need a bigger fly-swatter if I was going to survive a career in showbiz. The phrase Count Me Out was one of these heavy-hitter fly swatters.

Count Me Out came to me one night at a concert. I was in the middle of a busy bar and I was emotionally drained. I’d spent the morning on the phone talking about fearful things like disease and death and then spent the afternoon trying to organize an event and dealing with the many challenges that come with leadership roles. By the time I got to the concert, my proverbial arm was exhausted from all the fly-swatting I’d already done that day. As I settled in to watch the concert with friends, I quickly realized that the event was more of an industry showcase. The concert was brief, and the focus was on mingling. It was basically one of my worst nightmares. I immediately began plotting a swift exit, but the universe had a different plan for me that night. I found myself engaged in a variety of conversations that were triggering all of my vulnerabilities. My outside voice was saying: “Yes, yes…of course, this band is garnering 100,000 hits on Youtube and they are definitely gaining momentum on Instagram” while my inside voice screamed: “No one ever watches my YouTube videos! I hate Instagram! This career is not for me!”

I could feel myself getting stung. I started slipping into discomfort and comparing myself, my career, and my life to the others around me. Just as I started thinking about finding an administrative job in the back of some warehouse where I wouldn’t have to talk to anyone, I heard this voice in my head that said: COUNT ME OUT!!!

Wait. What? “Count me out”? I heard it again and again. The people around me were still talking, but I stopped hearing them. I felt complete stillness within myself. I had officially “checked out” and the countless stingers that had penetrated my skin just moments before magically fell away. A few moments later, the sounds of the room returned to normal, but I was different.

I re-established my connection to the conversation and realized no one had even noticed that I’d left. I spent the rest of the night hearing “count me out” every time a hornet approached. It was like the fly swatter of all fly swatters. It was automatic and effortless. Nothing could sting me. I spent the rest of the night singing Count Me Out in my head while the outside world floated around in an entertaining way. I started to see the courage and kindness of the people around me. Everyone wanted to connect in some way. How lucky was I to be part of all of this? It was beautiful.

From that day on, “count me out” held a bigger meaning than just a simple phrase. It’s like those three words were saying: You don’t need to check into anyone else’s Hotel California, and if you do, you can check-out anytime you like. I found this to be a powerful way to escape not only the unhelpful thoughts, ideas, and beliefs other people can present, but also my own.

“Count me out” is not the only fly-swatting catchphrase I’ve recited in my head. For almost two decades, I heard the phrase: “That sounds like a wager.” It comes up in a variety of scenarios and I always know it’s my intuitive side trying to awaken the humour in whatever I’m currently choosing to believe. For example, someone said, “You won’t be able to get financing for that new car.” And, just as I started to believe that I couldn’t buy myself a new car, I heard my intuitive voice say, “that sounds like a wager.” And what a wonderful wager it was. I LOVED my new car!

There are so many beliefs that I’ve clung to in my early years, I’m not sure I’ll be able to remove all of the stingers before I die. But, I’m certain that my intuition is going to keep trying to check me out of my own Hotel California with its powerful voice and comical catchphrases.

Count Me Out will always remind me that as long as I stay calm and allow myself to be guided by what feels right to me, I can’t go wrong. I like to believe that I’ll be guided to be “that smiling old lady in a broken-down trailer, picklin’ up cukes and laughing with friends.” I have no idea what could possibly be more important than that.