Copyright ©2006 NPR. For personal, noncommercial use only. See Terms of Use. For other uses, prior permission required.

MICHELE NORRIS, host:

On Mondays we bring you our series, This I Believe. Cynthia Santana Summer of Sacramento is among the 14,000 people who sent us essays. She heard our invitation to write about personal conviction at a moment of transition in her life.

Here's our series curator, independent producer, Jay Allison.

Mr. JAY ALLISON (Series Curator, This I Believe): A belief is a hunch you live by and the proof is in the living. Cynthia Sommer was born into a world that followed hunches, but she wanted harder data. She chose facts over belief. But that didn't last.

Here she is with her essay for This I Believe.

Ms. CYNTHIA SOMMER: I believe in intuition, that feeling you have about something or someone, without knowing quite why. Intuition is defined as knowing or sensing without the use of rational processes. I'm not sure if that's a fair assessment; it suggests that intuition is irrational.

As a Latina, I come from a culture that acknowledges the supernatural and is rooted in indigenous traditions aligned closely with nature. I grew up with a grandmother who administered herbal home remedies, and applied concoctions like olive oil and salt to bumps on the head. She also listened as we retold our dreams, helping to decipher their meanings. The passing of a loved one was always less surprising after dreaming of doves.

I'm only recently learning to trust my intuition again. Over a decade ago, I purposefully made the investment in an MBA to develop my analytical skills. By graduation, I had learned the process of being rational. My first job post-MBA was as an analyst. As my career progressed, so did the analytics. I began to believe less in my intuition. Budgets, metrics, research and ratios: my form of expression became much more calculated.

All of which served me well until I became executive director of a cultural arts center promoting Chicano, Latino and indigenous cultures. Every day I was with artists who wholly embraced intuition as a driving force for their creativity and culture as a way to express it, be it through Danza Azteca Flor y Canto, or teatro.

About the same time, I found myself drawn to anything with the shape or image of a lizard. When buying inventory for the centro, I always selected products with lizards and they sold well. I figured I was simply making good retail choices, but a community elder suggested the lizard may be my totem.

She told me the lizard is associated with the dream life, and that individuals with a lizard totem should listen to their own intuition over anyone else's. A lizard's tail will detach from the body, literally leaving behind a part of itself in order to survive. The elder suggested that what I needed to lose was my corporate-ness.

It seems I had come full circle. The lizard brought me back around to counting on my intuition as much as the numbers. And just as I listened to my grandmother and mother conversing about their dreams and intuition, so do my children.

They know that what they're feeling can be trusted in making decisions and judgments. And they're comfortable sharing their dreams with us.

So I believe in intuition. For me, it feels like the right thing to do.

Mr. ALLISON: Cynthia Santana Sommer with her essay for This I Believe. Summer is planning a trip to Mexico with her family to explore her cultural roots, and maybe spot a lizard or two.

We hope you'll consider writing about your personal beliefs for our series. Check npr.org for details, or call 202-408-0300.

For This I Believe, I'm Jay Allison.

NORRIS: Next week on Morning Edition, an essay about belief in duty by 14-year-old Ying Ying Yu(ph) of Princeton, N.J.

Copyright © 2006 NPR. All rights reserved. No quotes from the materials contained herein may be used in any media without attribution to NPR. This transcript is provided for personal, noncommercial use only, pursuant to our Terms of Use. Any other use requires NPR's prior permission. Visit our permissions page for further information.

NPR transcripts are created on a rush deadline by a contractor for NPR, and accuracy and availability may vary. This text may not be in its final form and may be updated or revised in the future. Please be aware that the authoritative record of NPR's programming is the audio.

Comments

 

Please keep your community civil. All comments must follow the NPR.org Community rules and terms of use, and will be moderated prior to posting. NPR reserves the right to use the comments we receive, in whole or in part, and to use the commenter's name and location, in any medium. See also the Terms of Use, Privacy Policy and Community FAQ.