“Intuitive Nudges”
Of all the time I’ve spent on the internet, only one youtuber has stuck with me through every phase. Jenny Bourn’s videos have comforted me when I’ve needed it most for a long, long time. She has lived in cities I don’t think I will ever find myself calling “home.” She is intuitive in a way I wish I could live up to. I can see her strong spirit from miles away. She creates, she tries new things, she is well dressed and well spoken. She does something and I want to embody it. One would think this is out of jealousy or an attempt to imitate. It’s really not. She just seems well, even when it’s clear she isn’t. She knows herself. She’s vulnerable and expresses herself fully without airing out all her dirty laundry to the listener. I admire this balance. I strive to have the qualities she has developed since I started watching her videos in the wearilive early days.
I feel so different from her, but the kicker is that she feels so familiar. Jenny presents wellness, spirituality, and her life without pressure. Her openness to the idea of flexibility being tied to wellness inspires me.
Anyways, that’s a whole lot just to say that I still have her videos circulating on the TV as I’m cooking or cleaning or just laying around before bed. On one hand, it's nice because I always need some kind of background noise anyways. But, on the other hand, watching her videos always ends up being productive for the side of me that wants to make more shit. I’ve seen all the videos before, but every re-watch gives me a new phrase to chew on. I’ll pick up something small that Jenny says and think about it for days, usually using it as a journal prompt at some point. Sometimes those entries get me here and turn into a whole post that I decide to put into the never ending echo chamber of this platform.
About a week ago I was half-listening to one of her vlogs while folding laundry and heard Jenny talk about “intuitive nudges.”
Like most times that I hear something I know I’ll be stuck on, I repeated this phrase in my head until a thought stuck out.
“Intuitive nudges,”
“Intuitive nudges,”
“Intuitive nudges.”
The concept of listening to your intuition is something I feel we’ve been trained to avoid.
Oh, you want to go take a walk? Well where are you going to go? What is it going to accomplish? You should focus on the work you have to do instead.
You passed a beautiful garden on the way to the store? Well, you can’t stop. It’s too hard to turn around. It’ll set your errands back. It doesn’t matter how much you’d enjoy it.
The idea of ignoring what may bring you joy or pleasure in order to stay productive is implemented so seamlessly these days. But, like Jenny said, if you aren’t harming anyone in the process, why does it matter? Why shouldn’t you take advantage? You should stop for a moment if you feel called to. You should slow down.
What I’ve been realizing is that nobody actually notices when you take a moment to yourself. Nobody cares, but not in a negative way. You typically aren’t inconveniencing anyone by stopping for five minutes to look at that flower on your walk. It is probably much better for you in the long run. Granted, this is a small example of listening to your intuition, letting the nudge… you know… nudge you.
It’s naive for anyone, especially those with a creative itch, to say “no” to an opportunity that could spark something new. These desired moments of slowness are guaranteed to spark some peace. They’re also inclined to give you a new image, a new perspective, maybe the slowing down will find a way to teach you.
I’ve started to think about how intuition shows up and how anxiety shows up. How do I know the difference? I’m still not completely sure. However, recognizing when you feel small intuitive nudges for joy trains you to understand what larger intuition feels like. Doing this is a tiny exercise in the bigger scheme of understanding the self. It’s practice for distinguishing between the anxiety and the call.
It seems my intuition is something that is silenced by anxiety. It’s usually out of fear or a trauma response.
No, you can’t go on that walk or that bike ride because what if you get hit by a car?
That beautiful garden? What if there’s someone hiding in the bushes, waiting for you?
Although it sounds morbid, it’s the reality. Unaddressed trauma turns into intrusive thoughts that shut down intuition.
Knowing myself means knowing when my brain might be lying to me. Anxiety seems to feel more like imagination, a presentation of images to talk me out of something I very well could enjoy. It’s so vivid. When I have an intuitive nudge towards joy, I can’t pinpoint exactly what I will feel like or what I will see if I follow through with the action. I know it will make me feel good, but I can’t exactly picture how it will. I sometimes don’t know what I’ll discover, and this is what allows the anxious thoughts, the “oh, but…”, to seep in.
Training yourself out of this is, simply, really fucking hard. In order to know your intuition, you must practice it. You can’t expect yourself to be able to silence the trauma immediately. You must work through it. I believe that a part of working through it, and feeling good about yourself in the process, is listening to the small intuitive nudges you have. This way you can learn what it feels like.
Being conscious of a practice like this alone helps you understand your intuition.
I was walking in the park the other day and saw a leaf on the ground. It was dried and had curled onto itself to form a cone shape. I’ve had a habit of picking weeds, small flowers, and fun leaves while my girlfriend fishes before, so my immediate thought was that this particular leaf was a perfect vessel for a small bouquet. So, naturally, I just left the leaf in the grass.
This kind of ate away at me. Why shouldn’t I make a small bouquet? It would be something nice to do. It would force me to look around at the details of this park that I may not have noticed otherwise. I could leave it at the park for someone else to find. Maybe they’d smile at it. Maybe they’d pass it by. Who knows and who cares.
I’ve been trying to burn candles with intention more, collecting specific colors to manifest/deliberate over various aspects of my life. Not sure if it’s entirely how you’re supposed to use spell candles, but I like doing it. I’ve been running low on what I bought about a year ago, because I’ve really just now been getting back onto the spirituality horse in all honesty, so I went to my local metaphysical store to get more.
I found the green and white candles I wanted (for abundance/prosperity and to cleanse/protect) and then felt like I should walk around a bit more. Every time I go without a list, I get sucked in at the metaphysical store, so I didn’t feel like I truly had the time or money to go searching around. It all didn’t feel worth it. I tried to talk myself out of it and then found myself looking around at the books five minutes later.
I’m glad I stayed. I had never taken a good look at the tarot cards before. I’ve always been interested in practicing tarot, but never learned too much about it.
I was eyeing this tarot deck but kept coming back to, “oh well I don’t really know what I’m doing so I don’t need it,” or “it’s going to be too expensive.” Well, google is a thing and when I flipped over the box they were on sale.
Now I am enjoying my candles and taking some time for myself every once in a while to learn more about tarot. Finding new ways to spend my alone time has been a goal during this season, and I think this has been a good contribution.
Actually writing when I want to, rather than letting fear or the feeling of time being scarce get to me, feels like allowing my intuition to nudge and guide me.
It feels so human to give into living leisurely, to see others do it, too.
We are forced to give into pain so often that we forget we have the time for pleasure.
Paying attention to, and using free will for, these things has shown me just how much time I do have. It is a new mindfulness practice. You have the time, you have the tools, and you really don’t have an excuse not to listen. This especially goes for the quick things. I think deciding to carve out a big chunk of time for delight is harder, but I’m finding it more doable each day.
Thank you, Jenny Bourn, for all the food for thought over the years. If you’d like to read Jenny’s Substack and find her other links, which I’d highly recommend, here it is: