Trusting the Small Voice Within

How old are we before we realize there is a "small voice" inside that warns us when something isn't right? I had been aware that all people or things are not good for us, but I was a teenager before a real life experience proved it to me.

I was outgoing and naturally liked people from as far back as I could remember. Because of this I had put my teenage experience away into the back of my mind until I read a very old story in the early 90's. It was a story in the book, "Women Who Run With the Wolves" by Clarissa Pinkola Estes, Ph.D. The story that grabbed my attention was about Vasalisa the Wise and the Doll in her pocket.

In this story, a young mother who was very ill called her young daughter to come to her bedside. The girl was dressed in red shoes, a black skirt, and a white pinafore with pockets. The mom said her daughter would have to go into the dark woods and find the cottage of the mean lady known as the "Old Hag."  Vasalisa was to ask her for a fire start. The very young daughter asked how she would find the cottage. The mother said to reach in her pinafore pocket. She did and she pulled out a little doll that looked and was dressed just like her. The mother said to stop when she needed food so she could eat some bread from the other pocket. Every time she ate she was to feed crumbs to the doll. The mother then went on to tell her daughter that anytime she did not know which way to go she should ask the doll. Trust the doll and also remember to feed and nurture her. Then the mother died. The lone little girl left on a pitch black night and nurtured and trusted the voice of the little doll. They did find the cabin and the doll in her pocket helped her survive there as well.

The moral of that story is that each of us has a certain knowing inside of us. Some call it intuition, spirit, that small voice, the doll in the pocket and even God's voice. I feel certain God's voice is always inside of me waiting for me to ask for his help. At least for me it has always been God's voice. To know it is there and call upon it, we also need to nurture our relationship with God and trust he will take care of us. This doll in the old story is to me a metaphor for that inner knowing. Feeding the doll refers to nurturing the understanding that the voice is there within. Often, people take care of the outer self and ignore what dwells inside. Some people might call this "not trusting our gut".

When I started high school, I was very excited. There were 1800 students there and I was having a ball meeting as many as I could. I had dated a few boys in Jr. High, but this was different. This was more fun. One of the boys I met was Ron. He was shy, but would pass me notes in the hall. He did not go to dances, parties or school sport events. He liked movies and sometimes he would come to my house and we would take the city bus downtown to the theater district. Ron was the best looking boy I had ever met, with glossy black hair combed like the young Tony Curtis. His skin looked like he had just been under a sunlamp. He had a very bright mind but wasn't interested in any of his classes except art. His drawing was amazing but every picture had a dark sinister feel. If he drew a room the light would be a bare light bulb hanging from a worn wire. There would be places where the wall paper was pealing off and the diagonal boards showing below. Another common feature was a mouse or rat hole in the baseboard with a very real looking rat or mouse looking out with obvious mischief on its mind. Ron was the oldest child in his family and felt he didn't count compared to adorable young twins. I was still dating other guys and that upset him. When I came out of a class I would see Ron down the hall watching to see who I spoke to or walked out with. The next note he passed would be about the other people he had seen talking to me. Today I suppose he would be called a STALKER. I felt sorry for him, but finally told him I didn't think we should see each other again. I knew he cared about me and never felt unsafe around him.

Once in a while, he would call just to see how I was. About a year later, he called and told me he felt "so bad" because he knew I was never going out with him again. He pleaded with me to go to one last movie and then he would be OK. Finally, I agreed to go as I just hated that he sounded so sad...and I did not want to hurt his feelings! I was surprised to find when he picked me up, he had borrowed a car. We drove to the theater and he seemed to be in good spirits. After the movie had been on for a few minutes he excused himself and went to the restroom. He was gone for quite a while and I wondered if he was just going to leave me there. Was this his idea of getting even with me? What was going on? Finally he came back acting like nothing was wrong. I was confused and glad to be heading home soon.

After the movie was over, Ron headed up the hill toward my neighborhood and then turned north and headed up toward a park on the sound. I asked him where we were going and he simply said he wanted to show me something special. He drove down by a ferry dock and then made a right turn and drove out onto an area of fill dirt and large rocks where a new yacht club was going to be built. He stopped the car and then turned the key off. This was new. We had a very innocent relationship and had never parked. The radio was playing music as he leaned over, kissed me and slid his hands up under my sweater. This was also new and THE ALARM IN MY HEAD WAS STARTING TO GO OFF. I told him, "This is not going to happen, Ron, take me home now!"

With this he got out of the car, slammed the door and opened the trunk. What was he doing? What was in the trunk? Was it something to drink for courage, or maybe pills? I hated to even think it, but was it a WEAPON? I was still aware that he cared for me so I just could not believe he would hurt me. The small voice inside of me was active. I kept repeating to myself, "God give me your Peace!" I loved and trusted God and believed his voice was the one I heard in my heart and my head. I decided quickly not to panic and act too scared. I did not want to set him off in any way. He got back in the car and started the engine. Then he looked at me and very calmly said, "I know you will never go out with me again...so I have decided to KEEP YOU!" I said, "Ron, you can't just keep someone!" He said, "Oh yes I can and if you try to get out of the car, I will have to hurt you!" He started driving. My plea for God's peace continued! My mind was working and I thought to myself, my curfew is coming soon and Mamma will be watching. If I am not home soon, she will have the police looking for me. "God, give me your peace!" I have always had a memory for streets and roads, so I was watching closely where he drove. At one time he was on a street that I knew because it was in my neighborhood and I knew it would dead end in a few blocks in a heavy patch of scotch bloom. I decided when he stopped to turn around I would make a run for it and try to hide in the brush until I could head home. He stopped, I jumped out of the car and took off. I could hear his foot steps and breathing as he closed in on me. Finally he grabbed me roughly, put my arms behind my back and dragged me back to the car. He was out of breath but easy to understand when he forcefully said "Don't try that again or I swear I will hurt you!" He put me back in the car and said, "I mean it!" What happened to him I wondered. Again I concentrated on my prayer and my plea, "God give me your peace!" I needed it now. I had to clear my head and stop crying. As the crazy night continued, I tried to talk to him as calmly as I could. I assured him I knew he would not harm me, but he got more and more silent.

It was getting very late and I was sure the police were looking for me. Ron headed further out of town. It was much later but I absolutely knew the road well. I still did not drive, but my parents said even as a 2-3 year old I recognized roads I had been on over a year before. This road was heavily wooded and the night was inky black. I knew the road was heading south in a long curve and there were deep ditches and trees on both sides. It must have been 3:00 AM and no cars on the road but us. The thought passed through my mind that someone driving that late on a Friday night might be as bad as who I was with. The voice inside me said..."Do something and do it now", "Don't let him take you anywhere else." He had pulled off on the shoulder in deep gravel. I prayed, "Be with me God and protect me now!" Ron had laid his head back on the seat and closed his eyes. I decided to wait until his breathing was slow and then quietly climb out of the car and run up the hill, so he would have to turn around if he was going to run me down. At that point I planned to jump into the woods and lay flat. I had forgotten one thing, when I opened the door the overhead light came on and Ron was wide awake. I ran and ran as I listened to his tires spinning in the large gravel. "Thank you God!" Soon my legs were burning. I had never run that fast up hill. Suddenly a car from a side road pulled up and a man's voice asked if I needed a ride. I was so afraid of getting in with a stranger that I said, "No Thanks!" and kept on running. Then I heard a woman's voice say, "It's OK, I'm his wife...can we take you to a phone?" At that point I climbed into the back seat and collapsed. The woman said, "I have a daughter your age and if she was where you are, I'd want her brought to my door." And they did exactly that.

There were no police cars in front of the house and Mamma wasn't looking out through the blinds. In fact I had to walk through the house and wake both of my parents. Until she died, Mamma was convinced that God had let her sleep, knowing what agony she would have gone through if she had been awake. I thanked God for that, too. It felt wonderful to be home! My parents wanted to call the police immediately but I told them it would be better to call Ron's doctor in the morning. On the way to the movie, he mentioned he had a new friend, a doctor. Sometimes he took him along when he went out of town and even let Ron drive. Mamma talked to him bright and early the following day and he said it was good that she called him. He said for her to be sure I was never in a position to be alone with Ron again. His new friend turned out to be a Psychiatrist.

I learned some important lessons that night that every girl should know:

1. Trust the small voice inside that tells you something is wrong...nurture the relationship with yourself.
    Call it what it is to you, I call it the voice of God. For you it may be different.

2. Never do something because you don't want to HURT THEIR FEELINGS. Sometimes the price is too high.

3. When worse comes to worse, watch for a chance to run and take it.

 Many years later, I was talking with Ann Rule who wrote many books about serial killers including Ted Bundy. Ann said Ron fit the profile she looked for when she started a new book. She gave me her private number in case I ever needed her help. A few years later I saw at a high school reunion that Ron was listed with the deceased.