A Ramble on Intuition
For years I longed to be able to describe myself as intuitive. Mostly it felt like I was trying to pin down some amorphous blob. For one thing, I had intuition confused with clairvoyance (and the other clairs: clairsentience, clairaudience etc). They’re cousins, but not identical. Clairvoyance is flashier. Intuition, when you really come down to it, is drab and kind of boring if your goal is to make it do noticeable stuff in the world. But you can’t have your clairs in a heal
"I'm fine."
We just got back from a short and sweet and mostly relaxing holiday. We came back to find mouse poop on our spare bedroom bed. I went to sleep last night before the kids, and was awake before 6 this morning, imagining that we have a mouse nesting in the box spring of the bed, making more mice. And into the thoughts of mouse-ness, another thought occurred to me, a much deeper one that has been incubating for days and days, stemming from a conversation that happened while we we