Hearing Intuition in Times of Chaos
- Emily Lily
- Apr 2
- 3 min read
Lately, I’ve been reflecting on the role of silence in my spiritual practice—not as a rule or a “should,” but as something that’s helped me find clarity during uncertain times. I want to share what’s been true for me, not because I think I have the answers, but because I believe in the power of honest reflection and open conversation.
This isn’t a guide or a how-to. It’s simply a glimpse into my experience—an offering of ideas to sit with, ponder, or leave behind. My hope is that it sparks something meaningful in you, in your own unique way.
In a world overflowing with noise—constant updates, pings, headlines, opinions, algorithms—it can feel almost radical to be quiet.
After spending the past few months intentionally decluttering distractions from my life, something unexpected and profound began to rise to the surface: silence. Not just the absence of noise, but a deeply intentional stillness. And with that stillness? Clarity.
If energetic clutter is the fog that keeps us from seeing clearly, silence is the breath that helps it lift.
Silence, I’ve found, is not empty. It’s where my inner knowing speaks the loudest.
It’s in the quiet walks with my dog that I hear a truth I hadn’t realized I was avoiding. It’s in the soft, tech-free mornings that I remember what really matters. It’s in those pause moments—between distractions, between to-do lists—where my intuition weaves its way into my consciousness, whispering things my busy mind could never access.
But it's definitely not easy for me and I don't always want to do it. Silence isn’t always comfortable. In fact, sometimes it feels loud. It brings up thoughts I’ve been avoiding, grief I haven’t processed, truths I've numbed. But when I stay with it—when I resist the urge to fill the gap—it becomes alchemical. It clears space for guidance, for creativity, for deeper self-trust.
We live in a culture that glorifies noise, urgency, productivity. Silence asks us to slow down, listen, and be with ourselves. That is a radical act of self-connection.
I don’t always feel brave enough to sit in silence—but when I do, I remember who I am.
And in these times—when so much is uncertain, when the world feels heavy with grief, injustice, and collective overwhelm—silence becomes more than self-care. It becomes survival. It becomes spiritual sovereignty.
I’m not saying silence will fix the world. But I am saying it can help us find our place in it.
When we’re quiet enough to hear our intuition, we are better resourced to respond. To show up. To discern where we can help and where we need to rest. We can’t dismantle oppressive systems if we’re constantly in survival mode, disconnected from our own wisdom.
Silence, for me, has become a portal to possibility. To resilience. To creative energy. To the next right thing.
And so, for our upcoming circle, we’ll explore this together. Sacred Silence is about intentionally pausing the noise, so we can tune into our deep knowing. Together, we’ll practice listening—not just to each other, but to ourselves. To the part of us that always knows what we need. We’ll reflect, share, and create space for our intuition to rise—gently, powerfully, and with love.
If you’ve been feeling ungrounded, overstimulated, or just ready for a reset, I hope you’ll join us. This isn’t about having the right answers. It’s about creating space for the questions—and trusting the wisdom that comes in the quiet.
Warmly, Emily
