Future Perfect Tense

Carl Sagan once said that humanity is a tiny speck in the universe. Well, let’s not exaggerate. For a tiny speck of dust, we have to work pretty hard before we break down into even smaller specks. After all, everything, except sleep, is work. We work to earn money. We put effort into building a family, maintaining friendships, and scrambling eggs. Sometimes falling asleep is work too, not to mention getting up. It’s interesting, then, that in sections devoted to human statistics, work is divided into only two categories: physical and mental. I feel there’s one more component missing, one that lies somewhere on the edge of body and mind—the work of our intuition. Intuition, or a hunch. “I don’t want to be here anymore.” “I think I should dress like this.” “I have a feeling it’s time to part ways.” Something is swirling in our heads, appearing as doubt or an opportunity. A problem emerges, and we apply our knowledge, hints from friends, and advice from horoscopes to it. If, despite this, we remain stuck at the starting point, we must trust our hunches.

with perceiving and touching the true nature of things. Some of them point out that mathematics is an intuitive science, derived from abstraction, existing not as a physical entity but as a purely intellectual one. In science, on the other hand, the prevailing view is that intuition is a derivative of all registered stimuli, lying somewhere in the subconscious, unanalyzed by our reasoning. We use them spontaneously when calculations fail and we must make a decision.

And here the issue of work comes back. I don’t know about you, but for me, making a decision is the hardest thing in life every single time. Arguments for and against pile up on the scales. Mom, always in my ear, whispers: “Be careful, son, maybe it’s better not to.” Dad provokes: “What’s wrong with you, are you a wimp?” Moments after asking myself an important question, I slip into madness and save myself by making the most rational and safe decision possible. A friend of mine got a tattoo with the saying: “A calm sea doesn’t make a good sailor.” Psychologists believe that among people who trust their intuition more than average, one can find businesspeople, travelers, adventurers, and inventors. It is precisely these types of people who seem to be the epitome of individualism and a more fulfilling life. Perhaps that is why I subconsciously agreed recently to visit a shaman recently.

I was accompanying a friend who trusts such figures. I walked into the office just for a laugh—it amused me that New Age music, the sound of bells, and birds chirping were coming from behind the door. The thing is, by the time I heard the birds, I was already long past my so-called comfort zone. The shaman was seeing me for the first time, yet he spoke as if he’d known me since childhood. Unfulfilled dreams, unrealized plans, and stifled potential were brought to the surface and stared at me with the eyes of a wronged cat. Perhaps, as some researchers of quacks and mediums claim, my shaman was a master of observation. From my hunched body, tense muscles, and fleeting smile, he read the stories hidden behind them. Perhaps his culture, different from the European one, allowed him to connect with realms beyond rational analysis. Perhaps a spirit spoke to him—one that, according to the shaman, clung to me and ruined everything.

One thing I know—nothing in recent years has prompted me to take bolder actions than that dreamlike and irrational encounter with superstition. Perhaps this is what all those who hide within the shell of safe choices need. Let’s play life with new cards. Let’s do as the stars, the coffee grounds, and the rolled dice dictate. Let’s turn off our ambitious egos and ingrained patterns of behavior. As a consolation, I’ll add that scientists, studying the consequences of decisions made based on intuition, have concluded that they yield the same results as decisions based on rational calculation. Isn’t that wonderful?

Text by Mateusz Wójcik, illustration by Anna Jeglorz