Intuition. What is it? It defies definition. It’s one of those unmeasurable entities. Its existence is doubted by many yet the word is commonly used. Women are often said to be the keepers of it, yet it’s available to everyone. It’s the psychic within us all.
When I intuit something I am removed from words, from the mental. I am sensing something, feeling it with my guts. It can come quietly to land on my shoulder or it might jab me where it hurts. Intuition is not awkward. It can open doors and turn on lights. It’s touching that part within myself which knows something as much as I can know anything. It’s a sense of being on one’s path, floating down a river on an inner tube, bread rising to its fullness.
And I know when I’ve not followed my intuition, thinking I might be able to sneak by on this one: I encounter more sharp edges, my hair tangles more easily, and I feel a bit lost.
When I have followed my intuition, I feel in touch with myself, my guts and my honesty. To me, it’s the honesty which comes from the heart.
Intuition is somewhere between feeling and thinking. It is the father of both, yet not enough like either to give its name to them. It comes without effort of thought or the necessary openness of feeling or the action of emotion. In comparison, however, its speed is like lightning and its effects are devastating. Intuition is the higher octave of the intellect and feeling mind, which patterns our lives and communication with others.
Before times of psychological eloquence I think this function came from the god Uranus. And even though we have discovered Uranus within all the darkness of space, we are just beginning to find him within ourselves. Uranus lives out beyond the seven ancient planets and so far away that even the sun can hardly light his body.
Knowing. Knowing God within and without you.
The ah-ha moment when the jigsaw puzzle which is a dream begins to fit together. (This may be days later.)
The ooh-aah moment when you dare to be yourself, to act upon your faith, to make that leap across that pit which is doubt and the longing for oblivion, for the return to the womb, for untroubled deep, deep sleep. When you feel strength in your thighs and spring in your legs, and you feel you can make it across.
When the lightbulb goes on above your head as you understand a Biblical passage. Christ is Logos, but he can’t be understood without intuition. Often his words have to be wrestled with, much as Jacob wrestled with the angel until the angel blessed him; sometimes commentaries, concordances, and other translations (other holds) have to be used to find the blessing. God is good, so every line contains a blessing if you understand it with your heart, not just your mind.
The flash when love enters in at the eye. When the eyes of people in love meet and share a gleam.
The twinkling of an eye when we shall all be changed.
The natural high from the new wine.
The consciousness that you are a child of God the Father/Mother, the Creator, the Most High, YHWH, Yah! Woah!
I’m discovering that what I thought was entirely an inner knowing includes an outer seeing as well. Here in the desert one learns to walk carefully, so that it starts after awhile to be automatic, “intuitive.” First, because some seasons there are snakes, and it’s best not to step on them. Then as I live here I become more aware of the subtlety of the desert — the tiny plants that spring up only hours after a rain, the cactus that I thought remained the same all year suddenly in late summer with lovely furry blossoms. So I’ve begun to develop a more sensitive outer awareness. Intuition for me stems more and more from staying aware.
That awareness results in a knowing, sensing, feeling about places and people which seems almost magical. My work is to maintain that consciousness, as well as staying aware of the freeway, the gas gauge, and the water supply. Intuition, for me, is a willingness to let go of old feelings, opinions, and judgments. At times it’s a lot of work, yet it can’t be done through effort, a stiff alertness, a purpose, or a preconception.
I’ve become much less active, because there seems much less to do, in terms of responding to my inner self. (I’m reminded of an American Indian tradition in which decisions are often from a very quiet gathering of those involved, staying together until the decision is just there.) I think that intuition is the translation of feeling, sensation, awareness into thought. In other words, I can experience, but cannot act, or react, until I have defined to some extent what has produced the sensation. For example, I may become aware of a shift in feeling in my chest area, but until I have defined the sensation as pleasant or unpleasant (disease), looked both inner and outer to try to determine what has produced the sensation and then decided how I will react, I can’t call it intuition; it is merely sensation or experience. This process happens very rapidly, much of it below consciousness, so that until I have chosen a form of reaction I’m only minimally aware of the sensation, and my processing of it. I am learning to trust that process more all the time, as it’s added a wonderful dimension to my life.
Lucerne Valley, California