on going with your gut

I’ve been listening to my gut since I was 14 years old, and frankly speaking, I’ve come to the conclusion that my guts have shit for brains.

–John Cusack, High Fidelity

No offense, JCus, but I disagree. Sometimes things are simple. I met a great landlord and saw an adorable, squeal-worthy apartment this weekend but proceeded to visit two more, only to realize my gut had been right. I think Teh Gutz are smarter than we know. There’s something magical and intangible and completely unscientific about the feeling you get that tells you, “Run away!” or “This is it!” that can’t really be broken down and analyzed. It’s all of our senses and subconscious quickly churning in a slurpee machine of internal emotion and analysis that happens faster than should be possible, spewing out an instinct you should take to the bank. It’s the layers of analysis that we pour on, bordering on geological, that obscure what we knew, deep down, all along (but painted over or rationalized away out of fear). Those layers, not Teh Gutz, are what deserve a leery second look.