On Intuition.
originally published on substack: https://substack.com/home/post/p-178525341
Intuition
From the Latin intuitio, meaning “a look” or “a consideration.”
From the verb intueri: in- (“into”) and tueri (“to look at,” “to contemplate”).
The Latin term gave rise to the French intuition and carried with it the same connotation — knowledge, foresight, or immediate perception.
“No one knows where it comes from
The light of imagination
Who owns it, who holds it
These ideas
Sometimes one sings not knowing
Who wrote the song
Yet still, the message remains
Of these ideas.”
///
“De onde vem ninguém sabe
A luz da imaginação
A quem pertence, a quem cabe
Essas ideias
Às vezes canta e não sabe
Quem escreveu a canção
Mas fica sempre a mensagem
Dessas ideias”
Novas Ideias,
Bebel Gilberto e Seu Jorge
I’ve heard this song hundreds of times, but the last time it came up on my gym playlist—somewhere between squats and leg curls—it was as if the very light of imagination had reached out and touched me.
Beyond being masters of composition, Brazilian singers are masters of inner dialogue—the kind that bridges mind and heart, body and spirit. Their God-given antennas are wide open, finely tuned to receive messages from the ether. They’ve long reached that point where they’ve developed such an intimate relationship with the process that it’s easier to admit they don’t know who actually wrote the song. They don’t know where the light of imagination comes from, or where the ideas for the song originate.
I recently came across a story about Michael Jackson (yes, the one and only Michael Jackson) that I found absolutely delightful: apparently, he used to sleep with a notebook and pen by his bedside. If an idea for a song came to him in his sleep, he’d wake up and write it down immediately—afraid that another musician, somewhere else, might be awake and catch the idea before he did.
Between that story and my own perception, I’ve come to feel he was one of those artists who viewed the body and mind as antennas—receptors for subtle signals that we can catch. And, above all, he was humble enough to recognise that those ideas didn’t come from him; they arrived through him from other frequencies, other realms, metaphysical dimensions teeming with information that doesn’t belong to us, yet that we have the extraordinary ability to channel and translate into something tangible, something others can see and hear.
There’s so much that exists beyond the visible—hidden behind the veil of this physical realm—that we can still sense, even if we spend most of our time focused only on what we can see.
There’s something that doesn’t quite add up in the way we’ve been taught to see the world.
Something profoundly distorted in what the collective consensus calls reality.
As if—even after everything we’ve lived through—we were still confined to four walls and a purely material experience.
As if matter itself were the boundary of reality, and beyond it, there was nothing.
Even Truman in The Truman Show (spoiler alert) managed to pierce the sky and realize there was more beyond what he’d been told was real.
There’s far more happening behind the scenes than what the news chooses to show us, still the main point of contact for what most people believe is the world. But for anyone who feels unsatisfied with that version of things, who senses there are other questions waiting to be answered, it becomes quite clear: there are more layers. Countless paths. Unspoken truths that never make it into public spaces—schools, universities, newspapers, politics.
Basically, every structure that props up our system.
Again and again, I feel that the real questions are brushed aside, ignored, swept under the rug. It’s as if we’ve lost the will to ask. As if the comfort of modern life has commodified our curiosity and our innate critical sense. We tell ourselves our existential questions don’t matter, that they’re irrelevant, all in our heads. That things won’t change anyway, so we might as well keep living as we always have.
We convince ourselves that it’s normal to live like this, especially when everyone around us seems to be doing the same, complaining about the same things. We convince ourselves this system is fair, free, and built to protect our interests.
Life goes on. We go to the gym, grab coffee, go out for dinner. For many, that’s enough.
A health scare or two might shake things up, make us think about God for a while, until we forget we were ever sick in the first place. For others, the questions linger, persist, and demand to be seen.
It’s inconvenient. It’s bad timing. But it’s also the kind of thing we can’t really avoid, no matter how hard we try.
With little confirmation from the outside world for what we feel inside, it is easy to believe others always know better. That politicians are doing their best. That wars, ultimately, are necessary.
In exchange for comfort—and not having to think too much—we often hand over our own power and authority.
And because this narrative benefits those in charge, it’s been kept alive for centuries.
We start to believe our opinions don’t matter all that much, as long as “everyone’s okay.”
We surrender our critical thinking and personal responsibility to external institutions, which are masters at making us feel small—too ignorant, too ordinary to understand the complexities of the world. They use big words, twist meanings, hide rituals in plain sight, and entangle us deeper in their web, keeping us away from our individual path.
We mistake the loss of personal sovereignty for the well-being of the collective.
We ignore intuition, that inner technology everyone talks about but few know how to use, and try not to fall into the woo trap.
It’s as if we now live by distorted values, in favor of peace. “War is Peace.” “Ignorance is Strength.”
If you’ve read George Orwell, you know what I mean. I recently listened to a fascinating episode of Occult Symbolism and Pop Culture with Isaac Weishaupt about how Orwell’s 1984 has become frighteningly real today.
There are layers upon layers of interests, a true social mille-feuille, that goes far beyond money.
There are ideas we’d rather not believe, not because they’re crazy, but because they might actually be true.
We’ve been trained to think of “conspiracy theories” as the ramblings of unhinged people who see hidden agendas everywhere. And social media does a great job reinforcing that narrative, distorting theories by amplifying the most radical voices, creating confusion and division.
That view, though convenient, is also shallow (and dare I say, arrogant). Because digging deep into certain subjects does shake our worldview sometimes. It does raise uncomfortable questions. And that’s precisely why it’s necessary.
Whatever the theory, outlandish or reasonable, extraterrestrial or one-world government, most of them seem to share a few common threads:
A sense of disbelief in governments and systems.
Disillusionment with modern life, consumerism, and convenience.
A desire to get to the bottom of things, just to know whether we’re being lied to or not.
Curiosity and the urge to find patterns in a world that insists everything is causal, scientific, material… and has always been that way.
We share this world with so much we can’t see.
We can’t see Wi-Fi, we can’t see the air we breathe, and yet we feel it when we inhale, sneeze, or cough. It’s invisible, but undeniably there, a sign of life itself.
We feel love, anger, heartbreak, sadness, joy, excitement. These emotions are so tangible in the body that we never doubt their existence for a second.
In fact, emotions are so real they can literally get stuck in the body, what we call somatisation.
There are countless things we can’t see but still know exist.
We don’t have to see everything with our eyes to believe in it. Intuition is one of those things we can only feel.
By intuition, I mean that innate, inner sensation—almost palpable—that wordless compass inside that tells us something is right or wrong, true or false, black or white (or gray), something makes sense or it doesn’t. It’s a knowing reflected through the body.
Intuition is something we’re born with, and we can feel it in two particular parts of the body: the heart and the solar plexus, the area of the stomach.
It’s not a rational feeling we can argue with. The moment logic and reasoning enter the conversation, intuition steps aside and the mind takes over.
Distinguishing between the two takes practice.
And to be clear, this isn’t about abandoning reason in favor of intuition. The magic happens when they work together, mind and the body.
What I want to emphasise is how much we gain when we includeintuition and bodily sensations in the equation, whether for complex decisions or seemingly simple ones. There’s great value in pausing, breathing, taking an internal X-ray, and asking: What am I actually feeling right now?
Though it isn’t tied to a specific organ, the body understands intuition as a kind of harmonic guide, an invisible teacher that knows more than our conscious mind can grasp. It’s a barometer of coherence, of inner truth, of alignment with who we are and what we believe. Like an electric current delivering a message, it’s irrational, not controlled by logic, but translated by the body into sensation.
In my attempt to find more practical ways to describe intuition, I went through several books on my shelf and found a beautiful metaphor in Tuning the Human Biofield: Healing With Vibrational Sound Therapy.
“The mail slot is the metaphor I use for describing intuitive guidance.
The author described it as a mail slot in the back of his head that would randomly open and a note would drop in. He found that if the note contained instructions to do something, for example, and he did it, he would observe a beneficial outcome. As a result, he had learned to trust and follow whatever came in through the mail slot.”
Like that mail slot that opens when we least expect, the more we pay attention to its messages and act on them, balancing it with reason and logic, the more momentum we gain in this dynamic. We create movement, dialogue.
We start trusting ourselves and the invisible messages our bodies send.
We start trusting that inner, intuitive knowledge, even when the outer world offers no validation.
We begin to listen more closely, doubt less, and develop faith in ourselves and in the invisible forces that surround us.
That’s how synchronicities happen. That’s how the right opportunities show up. That’s how we begin to have conversationswith the unseen.
I feel that intuition is one of the simplest—and most essential—things we can reclaim to restore our sovereignty, autonomy, and discernment in this society. It’s the foundation for finding our place in the world, the first step toward more complex and interactive dynamics.
Especially because so much around us, systems, hierarchies, rules, are designed to make us believe that intuition is woo woo, New Age, or reserved for the spiritually gifted.
Of course, governments and institutions aren’t built to run on intuition; that’s not really their purpose.
But what I’ve noticed is how deep and oppressive their reach has become, how much they try to format us into collective thinking, erasing individuality. It’s both intentional and systemic: systems evolve to protect themselves.
Intuitive, emotionally intelligent, embodied people are harder to manipulate.
Power structures built on control and consumption naturally reinforce disconnection because that’s what keeps the machine running. If the goal is to maximize profit, obedience, and predictability, awakening intuition does exactly the opposite.
I’ve spent countless hours reflecting on this; on intuition and the other innate gifts we have and I genuinely believe one of the system’s goals is to cut off our connection to Source, to the divine technology of the body.
From my own experience, my relationship with intuition (which is always evolving, always asking more questions than providing answers) has been the starting point for recognising this technology and the body’s signals. Even when dormant after years of disuse, they’re still working quietly in our favor.
But there’s a crucial detail in this equation: we have to make a conscious decision to stop ignoring them—and start listening.
Integration has to happen and it needs to become a daily practice, in as many moments as possible. It can’t be something we do only when things are calm and easy, when our choices align with comfort or habit.
It won’t be perfect, of course not. Intuition is like a muscle that gets old, buried under layers of conditioning, hidden by the ego (our primal protector) so we could adapt to a world that has little time for feelings and emotion.
But times are changing. And some signals are becoming harder to ignore.
Intuition has been intentionally buried, blocked, prevented from flowing where it’s meant to be heard.
I have a personal theory: intuition is that last spark, the remnant of a direct line we once had with our creator. And since the system can’t truly cut that connection, the best it can do is jam the receiver—us.
Our consciousness, our capacity to pick up invisible messages.
It’s also a survival mechanism; our inner connection to others and to the natural world.
This disconnection can come from many things, internal and external.
Education systems and most modern jobs value analytical and abstract thinking. When we spend too much time in our heads, we stop feeling the body’s subtle messages.
Excessive medication, sedentary lifestyles, chaotic diets don’t help either.
The information overload from social media and news acts like a silencer to the inner voice. The nervous system becomes confused, unable to distinguish real signals from artificial ones. The brain doesn’t know the difference between reality and fiction, no matter how sophisticated the content.
On top of that, many people learned that trusting their instincts led to punishment or rejection. So, to protect itself, the body quiets down even more.
The system, as we’ve seen, is built to leave little room for divine technology. The economy thrives when people feel incomplete, when they search for solutions outside themselves. Advertising and culture make us doubt that we are already whole.
Companies profit when we’re predictable, easy to sway by our most primitive instincts. Empathy and creativity are threats to hierarchies of power.
Cutting the connection to Source makes us more susceptible to control by the system, its messages, and its techniques for keeping us free inside the cage.It reminds me of Plato’s Allegory of the Cave, the metaphor that we live imprisoned by our senses and preconceptions, blind to true knowledge. The shadows and echoes the prisoners see are the biases we inherit, the belief that there is nothing beyond the visible world.
And it’s always the same: those who glimpse beyond are called “crazy” by those who don’t.
But thank God for memory, for myth, for the stories carved into stone by our ancestors reminding us that things weren’t always like this.
When this capacity is suppressed, what we lose isn’t only ancestral, unconscious wisdom—but also orientation, trust in the unseen.
The Gut and the Heart
Intuition moves like an electric current, felt especially in two parts of the body: the stomach (solar plexus) and the heart.
Let’s start with the stomach, the one I know best.
Between the ribs and the navel lies the center of inner knowing. It’s tied to personal will, discernment, boundaries, presence, and personal power.
The stomach processes the energy of our will versus the external world and its demands. It’s no coincidence we call it a gut feeling.
Biologically, the stomach digests what enters the body—separating nourishment from toxins—and energetically, it digests the tension between who we are and what’s expected of us. It’s a brilliant interpreter of this primal, instinctive force, perfectly captured by the English expression gut feeling.
That same biological function translates energetically into inner questions like Is this good for me? Does it align with me? Does it make sense right now?
The gut feeling is an excellent lie detector. Some people and situations empower us; others drain us…subtly or not at all.
This can be felt physically: a “yes” feels like expansion, relaxation, openness, sovereignty, inner brightness. A “no” feels like contraction, tension, discomfort, that tight, twisted stomach.
And of course, those butterflies when we’re nervous or excited, they belong to the same family.
The stomach is often called the “second brain,” connected to the nervous system through the vagus nerve, which influences emotion and mood.
The heart, on the other hand, generates the body’s largest electromagnetic field detectable several feet away.
Each heartbeat sends out its own electrical signal, carrying energy that influences the bloodstream and nervous system. It’s literally a current that runs through us: no wonder we call it the circulatory system.
The heart is a stabilizer, a barometer of coherence, balance, harmony in our relationships. It aligns the body’s various energy fields through rhythm and resonance, literally and figuratively.
According to the HeartMath Institute, pioneers in studying the energetic qualities of the heart:
“The electrical energy produced by the heart radiates outside the body into space. The heart’s field is not static. It changes depending on what we are feeling. When we experience emotions like anger or frustration, the frequencies in the field become chaotic and disordered. But when we experience emotions like compassion, care, appreciation, or love, the frequencies become more ordered and coherent. Through the electromagnetic field created by the heart, we are literally broadcasting our emotions like radio waves.”
The heart is an antenna because its energy is rhythmic and expansive by nature. It’s a master at sensing incoherence in real time, long before the logical mind can process it. It’s less about thinking rationally and more about feeling aligned.
Woo woo? Maybe. But try it. Listen to your heart.
Researcher Rollin McCraty, PhD, Director of the HeartMath Institute, found that the heart’s electrical field (measured by electrocardiogram) is about 60 times stronger than the brain’s electrical activity (EEG), and its magnetic field is roughly 50,000 times stronger (!). It can be detected meters away with a magnetometer.
What we feel has more impact than what we think, for better or worse. We read emotions faster than words.
Together, the stomach and heart act as resonance meters: one tied to survival and integrity (the gut), the other to harmony and connection (the heart). They’re vital, emotional instruments—and deeply intuitive ones.
From my own experience, recognizing intuitive signals is the easy part; acting on them is the hard one. Doing something different from what we’re used to, or from what others expect, that’s the real challenge.
We can ignore intuition as many times as we want. We can act against our values, our beliefs, in exchange for things.
We make hundreds of choices a day; not all are meaningful. You don’t need intuition to choose between two grocery stores. But maybe you do when deciding whether to accept that job offer or that dinner invitation. Intuition prioritizes what the mind tends to overlook.
Ignoring what we feel forces us to box up the truths we “know by heart” (from Latin cor, cordis, heart), the ancestral belief that the heart is the source of our deepest knowing.
And those boxes? They only open with effort… with inner work, with remembering, with untying the knots we once tied ourselves.
Going against the current often means change, uncomfortable, uncertain change. It means stepping into unknown territory without a map, without confirmation. It’s a leap of faith into the abyss, with no guarantee of a soft landing.
And yet we jump anyway because the reward might be greater than anything we could imagine.Intuitively speaking, it feels like it’s the right time to jump.
*Referenced here:
Book Tuning the Human Biofield: Healing With Vibrational Sound Therapy de Eileen Day McKusick
Podcast Occult Symbolism and Pop Culture with Isaac Weishaupt, highlight the episode about “1984” by George Orwell
Movie The Truman Show (1998)
Documentary The 1 Field - a film by Tsipi Raz (available on YouTube)