self-knowledge: reflections and thoughts on intuition and fear

reflections from my knowledge journal about fear and intuition

A couple of weeks ago, I started reflecting on what writing truly means to me, why I write. And I realized something: I write to understand, to think. Writing is how I think. For a long time, I believed that I wrote mostly to process emotions, and that is partly true. When I put my emotions into words and make sense of them, I can release them more easily, even if only for a moment. But deep down, I write because it’s how I think. And today, I found myself thinking about fear and intuition.

I believe fear often takes away our joy, our hope, the possibility of how beautifully things could have bloomed. I picture it like overwatering a flower because you think it needs more care, unaware that you’re actually drowning it. That’s what fear feels like to me most of the time, especially the fear that stems from worry when I’m trying to create something.

Intuition, however, is something entirely different. It quiets you. It arrives out of nowhere and brings a calming clarity with it. There are no questions like, “But what if…?” or “How will this work?” No overthinking. It is quiet and certain. A few days ago, I read a comment that said, “Fear asks questions, while intuition feels like a statement.” It couldn’t be more accurate. When intuition shows up, you just know.

pieces i created in moments of pure intuition.

Intuition comes as a subtle signal from somewhere beyond logic, as if your body becomes a channel for guidance. It feels like something you receive, like a vessel receiving water. It’s a return to yourself, almost like waking up, or remembering something true that you already knew.

I find it fascinating that as children, we experience intuition more naturally. Even though we lack life experience, we trust our inner world more. We’re not yet distracted or influenced by the noise around us. Fear, shaped by experiences, hasn’t taken over our vision of the world.

I can remember a situation a few years ago when, deep inside, I knew I shouldn’t do something. But I did it anyway, and ended up deeply hurt by the outcome. Do I regret it? No, not at all. But I do wish I had trusted myself and listened to my inner voice.

I also used to believed intuition is strengthened by pattern recognition. Some things repeat themselves, and over the years, we begin to notice patterns that show up in all areas of life, especially in behavior. But no, intuition exists beyond that. It still comes from a place of calm, almost like acceptance, and trust.

Fear, on the other hand, has often robbed me of joy, taken away potential, kept me small, and made me quiet. It made me feel as though my voice had no value. Intuition, however, does the opposite, it dissolves all of that. When I’m in tune with it, I feel like I have no control, yet everything around me becomes still.

But maybe fear isn’t as terrible as we make it out to be. Maybe it’s a force we can actually work with. At its core, it isn’t something bad. It’s like wanting something good, but feeling blocked. The problem lies in the moment we let it stop us, that’s what holds us back from acting, from being. In many ways, fear is there to draw our attention to something, often as a form of protection. But it should never become the reason we stop ourselves from moving forward.

What I know for sure is that fear is an energy that wants to move—it needs to move. Yet I’m often the one who traps it inside. Maybe if we just had the courage to let it flow, we’d find a small light waiting behind it, a light that had been hidden beneath it all along. (That’s actually how I imagine all “negative” emotions: once they’re released, a little light follows behind them.)

And maybe fear is just intuition in disguise, at least at its core. Both are energies that flow through us. Both are signals, both are guides. The difference is that fear is loud and chaotic and blocks us because we don’t know how to handle it. Intuition, on the other hand, is quiet, so quiet that it becomes powerful in its silence. Maybe if we learned to understand fear, it could actually work with intuition. Maybe these two words don’t need to stand in opposition to each other, but rather be seen as two related signals, because their source is one and the same.

Here are reflection questions on this topic, perhaps they might spark something within you, especially if this theme speaks to you too:

• Have you ever felt an intuitive pull and decided to follow it? If so, how did it feel?

• Has fear ever kept you from doing something you secretly wished to experience, not something you necessarily regret, but something you sometimes wish you had tried?

• Next time you feel fear before taking a step forward, could you give yourself a moment of stillness, to listen, to understand what it wants to show you, and to let it move through you gently, until the light behind it begins to reveal itself?

I’d love to hear your thoughts and reflections on this, if you feel like sharing. And by the way, I can’t pronounce the word intuition. I always stumble over it, and honestly, I’m just glad I don’t have to say it out loud and can just write it instead.

With Love

Rania🤍