Come for a walk in the woods with me. We’ll look for mushrooms and talk about intuition and creativity.

I live deep in the woods—we’re talking can’t-see-the-house-from-the-road, who-even-lives-back-there, must-be-a-witch kind of vibes. Lolly Willowes kind of vibes (affiliate link*). IYKYK.

I spend a lot of time in the woods making friends with the gnarled oak and scruffy-looking shagbark hickory trees. I also find many, many mushrooms. Everything from cheerful patches of bright yellow lemon disco to sturdy artist’s brackets to an enormous chicken of the woods.

A funny thing happens when I go into the woods searching for mushrooms. Often, at first, I don’t see many. The leaf litter is thick, and pale decaying leaves can trick the eye. I have to relax, let my eyes wander.

And eventually, I spot one. Then another. Suddenly, it’s as though my mushroom-vision has been turned on—they’re all around me. If I look back the way I came, I see everything I missed.

Intuition can feel quite a lot like that.

Once you get in tune with it and start listening for its messages, it’s as if they’re all around you. One moment, you might be shuffling through the undergrowth with nothing to show for it—and then, mushrooms.

But what exactly is intuition? Isn’t “listening to your intuition”…kind of woo?

Ask a neuroscientist, and they might tell you that what we call intuition is a flash of insight emerging from embodied experience.

Ask a mystic or a witch, and they might tell you that what we call intuition is an embodied message from the universe, a spirit, or Source.

Some people use tools to access their intuition—tarot cards, oracle decks, runecasting, tea leaf reading. I love the tarot for the ways you can use it to build a narrative, the layers of symbolism you can peel back and explore.

For others, intuition might show up as a hunch, a gut feeling, a vision, or a voice. A sudden clear insight or the faintest whisper of an idea. It looks a little different for everyone.

However you slice it, intuition is our bodies picking up what the world is throwing down before our conscious minds catch up and put it into words. Intuition is a skill we can cultivate and practice.

My gut knows when something is amiss. I am also really, really good at slicing through to the heart of a situation—a stalled writing practice, a story that’s not quite working—and pointing out pathways to possibility.

One reason writers who work with me find that their creativity feels like it’s been unlocked is that I give them all the tools and permission they need to trust their intuition after years of being told not to.

Getting unstuck isn't about disciplining yourself into "better" writing habits. It's about learning to cultivate your intuition and act on what it's telling you.

The problem is not that intuition is woo. The problem is that most of us are taught not to listen to our intuition at all.

And that’s a real issue for our writing, because intuition and creativity are inseparable. The more cut off you are from your intuition, the more stifled your creativity will be.

Intuition is a nudge, a whisper that tells you there’s something interesting over this way, if only you’ll pay attention long enough to notice. Creativity is how you express what you find—the connections you make, the ideas that appear as if by magic, the stories and books that result.

Getting into a flow state is one of the best indications that your intuition and creativity are firing on all cylinders.

When the ideas seem to arrive unbidden, time melts away, and you’re writing just to keep up with the story rather than hunting fruitlessly for the right words, that’s when you know everything is working in sync.

The mushrooms are everywhere—all you had to do was learn to see them.

Every part of our writing lives benefits from the combined power of intuition and creativity. Intuition has a role to play in how we think about our writing, design and engage with our writing practices, and level up our skills. We’ll talk more about this soon.

The tricky part is learning how to listen again—and distinguishing intuition from anxiety and the voice of the inner critic. (Pro tip: Your intuition is never going to sound like a jerk. Your inner critic? You probably already know that voice pretty well.)

Before we jump into strategies for bringing intuition back into your writing practice, spend a little time reflecting on it.

• How does your intuition show up? Do you get a gut feeling, hear a voice, or see an image?
• Think about a time when you got an intuitive hit of some kind and listened to it—or ignored it. What happened?
• When was the last time you were in a flow state with your writing? What were the conditions that led up to it?

Next time I’m in your inbox, we’re going to talk about some strategies you can start using to access your intuition and unlock your creativity.