Intuition

The secret of fortune is joy in our hands. – Ralph Waldo Emerson

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If my Intuition had an incarnation, I imagine he would look like the following:


My intuition is a young man; at that age where imagination and reason co-exist harmoniously.  He looks identical to me; full lips, bald head, clean shaven, chocolate brown skin and eyes.  No glasses adorn his face because its his nature to see life clearly.  His eyes dance as he walks around with a knowing smile as if he alone is in on some grand joke.  He is dressed simply; wearing only a plain white t-shirt and shorts with no pockets because he always has what he needs.  He prefers to walk barefoot, but since we are eating in a restaurant he's wearing a black pair of the five finger shoes.


As we sit down to eat our Chicago deep dish spinach and sausage pizza he gazes at me intently.  He looks at me, through me, for an uncomfortably long time before he calmly says, 

"We work well together, you and I.  Since before you knew who I was, you followed me and my path and your steps have been true."  

He leans forward and looks at me again, his chin resting on his thumbs and his steepled fingers against his lips.  His voice takes an urgent tone as he says, 

"Remember, do not see me in everything.  I do not exist in all places or in every decision you make.  While every experience has lessons to teach, do not cause yourself avoidable suffering.  Do not confuse following me with following Chance.  I see things clearly, Chance walks blind."  

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In response to...

If you could picture your intuition as a person, what would he or she look like? If you sat down together for dinner, what is the first thing he or she would tell you?

(Author: Susan Piver)