An Intuitive Moment

October 17, 2013

“You show me how to do that!” Joyce exclaimed.  She was so close to my face I could feel her breath puffing in and out as it rode on the waves of absolute frustration. “You tell me what I need to do right now!”

I looked around at the other students in the life coach training school, wondering if their reactions would help me figure out not only how to handle this frantic woman but more importantly, why she chose me out of the 40 people in the room.  Seeing no facial expressions that seemed helpful in any way, I decided to keep my emotions in check and answer utilizing my intuition.

“Now!” Joyce all but yelled right in my face. “I want to know what to do right now in order to be calm, sweet, and intuitive!”

Just after a lunch break, all the students had been divided into about 5 groups. Our task was to give each of the group members a character to act out based upon what the group determined was his or her greatest weakness. Joyce had been given the task of standing in front of the group to act like a calm, loving puppy dog who reacted to life intuitively, something she found all but impossible.  Joyce’s life experiences had given her a chance to develop her strong, wild side as a form of self-protection.  Terms like surrender, accept, and receive were as foreign to her as Chinese would have been.

“You already are intuitive,” I answered trying to stay calm and centered in the face of such frustration.

“I don’t know what to do to be intuitive,” Joyce cried. The tears had begun to swell in the inside corner of her eyes.  Joyce lived on the edge of wanting to create perfection in order control her life experiences.  No one is perfect though; she was just creating more frustration for herself.

“Joyce,” I said, lowering my voice slightly in order that she would be still and quiet enough to hear me.  Centering myself  I answered, “I said you already are intuitive. Tell me why you came to me instead of all the other students in this room as you were acting out your assigned role. Why did you come to me?”

“I have no idea, really.” Joyce’s voice had modulated somewhat. The tearful expression was turning into one of puzzlement. “Why did I do that? Do you know?”

The others in the room were sitting upright in their chairs, as still as pins on a cushion.  “Perhaps your coming to me was an example of you using your own intuition,” I answered as gently as possible.  I did not wish to give Joyce more information than I thought she could handle at the moment.  She already was overwhelmed by the assignment from the group.

Joyce said nothing in return. Instead she straightened her body posture and stepped back a more respectable distance from the front of my chair. She looked as me as if I were absolutely nutty. I stood up, wanting to be on equal footing with Joyce in order to meet her exactly where she was at this moment. Joyce waited for me to say more.

“Joyce, I am very intuitive. I actually function intuitively better than I do analytically.  You probably sensed this utilizing your own sense of intuition. You are a lot more intuitive than you have ever realized.”

“Really?” Joyce asked in amazement.  Yet, on some level I felt her processing this possibility.

“Intuition isn’t something you do, Joyce,” I added.  “It’s something you receive.  Something you allow. Something you surrender your grasping, your over-trying, and your frantic feelings of not being able to do it correctly.  When you begin to become comfortable functioning in this way, you will be pleasantly surprised at the intuitive moments you will have in the future.”

Joyce said nothing at first. After a long pause, she said just one word. “Stillness.”

“Yes, that’s where it really begins to happen. In Stillness. There’s absolute safety in stillness. You already are what you have been trying to become.”

Joyce looked around the group, then back at me. After a long moment in the silence of the room, she got on all fours just as a loving puppy dog could have done, and went to nuzzle the leg of one of our instructors.  In her own way, Joyce had just experienced an epiphany.  A door opened wide to her own sacred story.

{ 0 comments… add one now }

Leave a Comment

Previous post:

Next post:

© All Rights Reserved Paddy Fievet, LLC | site build by: angel sullivan