Signs That You’re Disconnected From Your Intuition
And How to Get Back on Track
Photo by Denise Jans
I just moved to a new town for a year (near trees! near a river!). This felt like a much-needed shift for me. Even when change is welcome, however, it’s not easy for me.
My hyper-vigilant nervous system gets even more on high-alert when everything is new around me, and it takes me time to be able to see what’s actually around me, rather than the high-voltage shadowy version of things I perceive when I don’t feel safe.
This high-voltage shadowy version of things was what I thought was real for much of my life. I didn’t understand the way PTSD and my highly sensitive nervous system were shaping my reality. I believed I wasn’t safe, ever. I wasn’t able to settle into my body and check in about this moment. This moment, writing at my new table with my dogs at my feet, as the afternoon sun streams into the room, I am safe.
Learning to recognize when we aren't able to access our intuition is as important as learning how to access our intuition.
One of the things that learning to step into my full intuitive self has taught me is that it is just as important to be able to recognize when we aren’t able to access our intuitive knowing as it is to know how to access our intuition. (And to notice this without judgment!)
There are times when we just aren’t able to access our inner wellspring of creative ideas, of well-being, of inner wisdom. This is part of being human. We move in and out of feeling connected. There is nothing wrong with us that we do.
These signals let us know it might be time to pause and give ourselves self-care (rather than beating ourselves up!)
This tool—learning to recognize our personal signs that we are disconnected from our full intuitive self—can help us know when to pause, when we need self-care, when we need time to make a decision.
We might have hidden expectations about what being intuitive means, and we can push or be hard on ourselves when we aren't able to know the answer to something quickly. I do this too—I can sometimes be impatient with myself.
I want my intuition to work as a reliable machine, and quickly!
I want certainty, and I want it fast!
Especially if someone else is asking me to make a decision—I can internalize that perceived pressure and believe I should be able to know the answer now.
It can take time to come to our own knowing about something.
The more I’ve come to know my own signs for not being able to access my intuition, the more I’ve learned to allow myself time to come to my own knowing about something.
Often, intuitive answers aren’t like a Magic 8-Ball.
Sometimes the answers are deeper than we expect, and sometimes what we actually need is to make a shift in our thinking, or let go of the need to know because it is a disguised form of control.
Here are 10 signs that let me know I'm not able to access my intuition right now:
I over-rely on logic to make a decision, but no decision feels good.
My thinking becomes circular; I spin and spin trying to "figure out" the answer.
I create an elaborate "pros and cons list," trying to accumulate "evidence" as to why one choice is better than another.
I ask friend after friend for their opinion, and everything sounds good when they’re saying it. Or nothing does.
I try to force myself to just decide; then the second-guessing begins.
I look for what worked for someone else and think If I could just be like So and So and do what they did, then things will work out for me too.
I might make an impulsive "F**k it!" decision, but there's a nagging feeling that I'm ignoring something. Or the impulsive decision kicks up a deep-rooted false belief that "I'm irresponsible," which I try to push away with the counter thought, "No—I'm fun!" (And yup, more brain spinning...)
My chest feels tight, my breathing gets shallow, and I feel a pressure on the top of my head.
I feel a heavy energy around the decision, as if it is life or death, even if it’s something small.
I become very hard on myself, wonder what's wrong with me that I can't make a decision, and tell myself stories that I’m “indecisive,” “flakey,” or “non-committal.”
What are your signals?
If you're having trouble coming up with a list of your own personal signals, take a moment to notice what's going on with you the next time you have trouble making a decision.
Often, the things we give ourselves a hard time about or try to push through are the signs that are trying to let us know that we're not able to access our intuition right now.
For example, I might give myself a hard time for constantly second-guessing myself. Then I try to force myself to make a decision in a sea of self-blame, which makes things harder. But when I learn to recognize second-guessing as one of my personal signs that I'm not able to access my intuition, I can take a step back from self-judgment. And I can give myself the time and self-care I need to help me reconnect with my intuition.
How can you be more patient with yourself once you recognize that now might not be the time for answers?
When I am going through a change that triggers my hyper-vigilant nervous system, whatever decisions I push myself to make will most likely be filtered through my lens of not feeling safe. I’ve learned that it’s very difficult for me to make a decision that feels good from that place.
Forcing myself to do something (and giving myself a hard time for feeling the way I feel) only adds to this feeling of not being safe. Learning how to be a safe space for myself by giving myself the time I need, and allowing myself to feel whatever I feel, help my body begin to soften. What I need when I’m feeling like this is time and self-care.
A relaxed body and a calm nervous system are ripe soil for intuitive guidance.
Instead of pushing myself, I need meditation and deep breathing and walking barefoot in the grass (which I can now do at the new house!) I need naps when I can take them, and gentle stretching, and dog cuddles. I need less opinions coming in, not more. I need understanding and compassion for myself. I also might need to set boundaries to protect my time by letting others know I need time to get back to them (while being aware that I might be internalizing (or projecting) someone else’s feelings of frenzy or urgency.)
After about a week in the new house, my nervous system is beginning to calm down, in its own time. The quality of my thoughts are becoming less frenzied, less urgent, less suspicious. As I feel myself settling back into my body, I’m becoming more capable of seeing what’s actually around me: the new place is beautiful and lovely and gentle and Oh, that scary shadowy thing with teeth is actually a stunning row of honeysuckle scaling the fence.
And my Intuitive Self is right where I left her.
Now I can turn to the ways I’ve learned how to connect to her, to my animals, to my guides, to my loved ones in spirit, who have, of course, never left my side—I just couldn’t feel them for awhile.
Photo by Tatevik Vardanyan
