If you’re looking for a way to identify your intuitive ‘voice’ from the many other voices inside you vying for your attention and your action, how about this:
Your intuition does not use a whip.
If that voice – that felt sense, whispered or silent – is cajoling you, bribing you, blackmailing you, or beating up on you, then what you are hearing is not intuition.
If you are bargaining against fear with it, then it is not intuition.
If it is telling you to do something, or else face the consequences: not intuition.
If it causes you anxiety, or your blood to run cold? Nope. Not intuition.
Likewise, if it dangles promises in front of you, or offers to hit you up to sate whatever withdrawal symptoms you’re feeling, or rescue you from your discomfort, or promises you a short-cut that’s too good to be true?
All of these other voices may masquerade as intuition with varying degrees of success, but they are not it.
Intuition does not use a whip; nor does it offer you a narcotic shot of bliss to wow you out of your circumstances. Nor does it judge you, or others – or anything.
Intuition does not cause you to feel contracted, repelled, or hooked-in.
Intuition sinks and expands you deeper into yourself, your body, and your breath. You let go, you exhale. You know.
There is no emotional charge to intuition, whether that emotion is an upper or a downer. Intuition is entirely neutral.
Intuition is an expansive thrum, humming through your body. It is a knowing without affect, a wisdom free from feelings. It lies beyond feeling.
Intuition is there before you hear it. And when it does speak, and you do hear, it talks quietly, or whispers, or resonates – and it is always entirely present.
To identify intuition, picture this:
A room filled with people, all of them wearing masks. All of them talking above each other. It’s loud in there!
Now look carefully.
There, in the centre of the room.
The one figure that stands quietly, calmly, undeterred – and looking directly at you. It isn’t interested in being loud, or heard, or even understood. It is simply interested in you.
And it is waiting for you to become interested in it.
To do that, you must learn its habits – its stance, its look, its feel, its silence, its lack of drama, its unwavering presence and attention.
It is not out to impress you with that attention; it’s just that its only reason for being there is to witness you, and to act as a mirror to you.
That is intuition: the one in the room that is interested in you just as you are, and which will wait patiently – for ever, if need be – for you to listen to what it has to say to you.
No shouting, grabbing, anger, seduction.
When you first manage to pinpoint your intuition in the crowded room that is your mind, you have taken a huge step – towards yourself, and also towards being able to familiarise yourself with what intuition looks and feels like.
So that next time, when you’re in that room, you’ll have a clearer idea of what you’re looking for.
But don’t forget: that metaphorical room is full. Full of others that don’t want you to see that figure in the centre who’s looking at you. They’re not interested in you at all: they only want you to hear what they have to say.
But that figure, who keeps their eyes trained on you? It doesn’t care that the room is full.
It cares about you.
In the same way, it isn’t interested in what you want to hear: it tells you what it serves you to know, and it will tell you for as long as it needs to.
And it will never use a whip.