Creating Fertile Ground for Intuition
What Highly Sensitive People Need, and Collaborative Journaling to Help You Do
Do you ever just know something? It happens with a sudden flash of clarity, bypassing your tendency to deliberate pros and cons.
I refer to this experience intuition. Other people call it inner knowing, a download, a nudge, an answered prayer for guidance.
Whatever you call it, this kind of knowing always feels like a relief to me as a sensitive person. It’s offers a reprieve from overthinking. It lets me step out of the emotions of a heart that is pulled in too directions.
Intuition is so powerful in helping us navigate the complexities of living at this time in history. It can help us connect to our values and guide us toward decisions that support our authentic growth.
Are you making room for this intuitive kind of knowing in your life?
This type of knowing doesn’t happen on schedule, or because we demand it, or even because it’s what we want to hear. It transcends logic, but it’s not illogical and it can’t be forced to show up at our convenience.
There are many ways we make space for our intuition. One of the classics is when we’re showering and suddenly a rush of ideas pops to the forefront of our minds. Or when we wake up from a dream and suddenly have a solution to a problem that has been hanging over us. Or when we notice synchronicities, coincidences, patterns, repeated symbols, all of which point out attention in a given direction.
We need to be rested, making time for creativity, and practicing our spirituality for this kind of knowing to be fully accessible to us. Humor, spending time with kindred spirits, and being in nature can also help us hear the voice of our intuition.
Collaborative Journaling about Your Intuition as a Sensitive Person
I’d love to hear more about your experience of intuition as a sensitive person. This month’s Collaborative Journaling (CJ) invitation is to explore this type of knowing that I call intuition, but you may call by whatever name resonates for you. Here are the prompts:
What do you call this kind of knowing?
How can you cultivate greater access to this kind of knowing through the lifestyle you lead?
What are some examples of how you’ve benefited from tapping into this type of knowing? These can serve as reminders to you of the importance of nurturing your relationship with your intuitive knowing.
The Collaborative Journaling Process:
1. Journal about the prompt in whatever medium you choose (writing, song, art, building, etc.).
2. Paste your typed journal in the body of an email or attach a photo/video of your responses. Email your response to me: journaling[at]singularlysensitive[dot]com (journaling@singularlysensitive.com).
3. Please send your response no later than 11 PM Eastern on Tuesday, May 27th.
4. Technical issues can happen, and I’m human. I will make every attempt to email you my response within 48 hours. If it’s been longer than that and you haven’t gotten a response from me, please check in with me so I don’t inadvertently miss your response.
Please keep in mind these points if you choose to join me in Collaborative Journaling:
· CJ is meant to be an interpersonal exchange of ideas—think journaling pen pals. It isn’t therapy, coaching, a class, a medical intervention, or a prescription. You should contact the appropriate professionals in your life if you need those kinds of support.
· Trust your intuition about whether to participate and how. I trust you to be responsible for your reactions and your needs. If this process brings up distressing memories or emotions, seek professional help in your community and/or use the 988 Crisis Line (in the U.S.A.) for support.
Lori,
I appreciate the way you’re holding space for a kind of knowing that doesn’t demand justification. For me, intuition is not something ethereal or poetic. It’s deeply physical. Tactile. Trained. It’s the outcome of having tracked my nervous system over years, becoming fluent in the felt signals of what’s right for me—even before my mind can explain why.
I’ve stopped seeing intuition as a mystery. It’s not a sudden “download” or transcendent voice—it’s more like an old friend who doesn’t waste words. It arrives through breath, tension, fascia. Through pattern. Through silence. Through the absence of push.
What others call “intuitive hits,” I often call recognition. Not new information, but returning to something I’ve already known and didn’t have permission to trust.
Cultivating that trust has meant years of learning what safety actually feels like in my body—because without safety, what shows up isn’t intuition, it’s trauma reenactment in disguise.
So no—I don’t “just know.” I track, I sense, I listen, I wait. And sometimes, that waiting births a knowing that doesn’t need validation. Not even from me.
Thank you for inviting this reflection. I’ll likely respond to the journaling prompt in image and gesture, not as a tidy journal entry. My intuition isn’t linear—it’s layered. And I trust it enough now to let it speak in its own language.
xo Jay
What you said about not being able to demand intuition really struck a chord.
It's so true; it's like trying to force a flower to bloom by yelling at it. The more I try to control or summon it, the more it seems to retreat. It's in those quiet moments, when I’ve released the grip, that it decides to make itself known. I've spent so much time analyzing, trying to "figure it out," when what I needed was to just be and let it come to me. I think sometimes my logical brain gets in the way.
Maybe my logical brain is just insecure and wants to be in control! It’s almost like preparing the soil. You do the work, and then you leave it and wait. 🩵