is there a limit to what the inner self know?

over the course of a couple of weeks, several times i look at this 'empty' tube in the toiletry cabinet wondering if it's time to throw it away. it is exfoliating facial scrub. hubby bought it somewhere years ago thinking it's the kind of things i would like. i do like a good exfoliator but i think this is too expensive. it isn't bad. i just don't think it's worth the price. anyway i finally squeezed all that i could out of it. it couldn't be flattened any more and it had been standing upside down for a long time so gravity has absolutely pulled down whatever it could. and yet, and yet, i just don't feel right to throw it away. not quite yet. so this morning, the clear, direct message received in meditation is 'cut it in half.' i follow through with it. what do i find? the insides is like a find sand beach. each particle is a cluster of who knows how many tiny, tiny beads. i scoop up a few 'sand' particles, massage them over my wet face. wow, amazing, fantastic. the skin is transformed, so smooth and soft, like, in hubby's words, baby bottom. i look at the wealth that i almost trashed. hey, is there a limit to how much the inner self know? i don't think so.