I wish I could tell you that after all these years of reading tarot, teaching intuition, and helping other people navigate life's twists and turns, I've learned to gracefully surrender whenever life throws me a curveball.
I haven't.
This past week I spent most of my time dizzy.
Not the kind of dizzy where you stand up too fast. The kind where the room tilts for no apparent reason and walking from one room to another becomes an exercise in concentration. The kind where you're afraid to drive because you aren't sure your body is going to cooperate.
The doctors don't know why.
Tests. Questions. Shrugs.
"We don't know."
I wish I could tell you that my intuition whispered the answer into my ear.
It didn't.
Instead, my mind did what minds do when they don't have enough information. It started writing stories.
What if this doesn't go away?
What if something is seriously wrong?
What if I can't work?
What if I can't keep teaching?
What if...
Fear is creative.
It can build an entire future out of a single unanswered question.
And while all of that was happening, there was another fear quietly running underneath it.
Money.
I'd been putting off buying new glasses. I needed them, but I kept looking at the price tag and thinking, Not yet. Maybe next month. Maybe I can make these old ones last a little longer.
Isn't that what fear does? It convinces us to postpone taking care of ourselves because we don't know what tomorrow will bring.
Then my daughter quietly offered to pay for half of them.
I didn't ask.
She just did.
A little later, friends surprised me with gifts.
Then people from TikTok—people I've never met in person—sent gifts, too. Complete strangers who have become this strange little online family reminded me that they cared.
None of those things made the dizziness disappear.
The doctors still don't have answers.
I still don't know what's causing it.
But every one of those moments reminded me of something I'd forgotten while I was busy trying to figure everything out.
I wasn't carrying this week alone.
We spend so much time asking our intuition to tell us what's going to happen next.
Should I take this job?
Is this relationship right?
Am I making the right decision?
Those are good questions.
But maybe they're not the only questions intuition is trying to answer.
Maybe intuition isn't always about predicting the future.
Maybe it's about recognizing what's true right now, quietly offering evidence that I was supported.
I almost missed it.
Not because the signs weren't there.
Because fear is loud.
Support is usually quiet.
Fear demands your attention.
Love simply waits to be noticed.
One of the biggest misconceptions people have about intuition is that it's supposed to make life certain.
It doesn't.
If it did, none of us would ever be anxious.
None of us would ever make mistakes.
None of us would ever have unanswered questions.
Intuition isn't a crystal ball.
It's a relationship.
It's the part of you that gently taps you on the shoulder and says,
"Look."
Look at your daughter.
Look at your friends.
Look at the people who barely know you but somehow found a way to remind you that you're not alone.
Look at the kindness that's already here before your fear convinces you there's nothing but darkness ahead.
When I teach tarot, people often want certainty.
They want the cards to tell them exactly what's going to happen.
I understand that.
Life feels safer when we think we know what's coming.
But the older I get, the more I think tarot—and intuition itself—offers us something far more valuable than certainty.
Presence.
Instead of showing us every twist and turn in the road ahead, it teaches us to notice the ground beneath our feet.
To notice the people walking beside us.
To notice the unexpected blessings that show up even when the path is foggy.
Because here's the truth.
I still don't know why I was so dizzy.
I still don't know how long it will last.
I still don't have all the answers I wanted.
But I do know this:
Fear told me I was on my own.
Reality told a different story.
And maybe that's the real work of intuition.
Not predicting tomorrow.
Seeing today clearly.
If you're walking through a season of uncertainty right now, I hope you'll pause for just a moment.
Not to force yourself to be positive.
Not to convince yourself everything is fine.
Just to ask a different question.
Instead of asking, "What if everything falls apart?"
Try asking,
"What is quietly holding me up that I haven't noticed yet?"
The answer may not solve your problem.
But it just might remind you that you are far more supported than fear wants you to believe.
And sometimes...
that's exactly the answer we need.
This is my birthday month and for July only I'm offering a 15% discount on all readings with the code BDAY15.
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