Intuition is a tall woman with soft oval nails, unpainted, on her beautiful sun-kissed hands. Resting open on her lap, her hands are warm, welcoming, expressive. Her eyes deep pools of light, patient and inviting.
She sits in a generous chair, amid the lushness of a private garden. Like a child swaddled in a baptismal gown handed down from generation to generation, her bare feet peek from beneath an ancient garment of palest ivory. She waits.
I approach and say hello. I take the seat to her left.
Relax, she says.
There is something greater out there.
This day is as temporary as lost keys or found wallets.
What matters is not answers, but questions.
Moment by moment.
Intuition by Susan Piver
The secret of fortune is joy in our hands. – Ralph Waldo Emerson
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? SP