Intuition is an illusion

You love the idea of intuition.

A secret, inner compass. A wiser, deeper knowing.

Something that bypasses the mind and delivers truth straight to your bones.

It feels different from thinking. It lands as a quiet certainty.

A nudge, a pull, a whisper:

’Go here.’ ‘Say yes.’ ‘Trust this.’

And you do—because it feels like something real.

Something beyond logic.

But if life is already moving exactly as it moves—if nothing was ever in your hands to begin with—then what exactly is intuition guiding?

And to where?

We tell ourselves, ‘My intuition is always right.’

But if we’re honest, we can all name the times it wasn’t.

We say, ‘I just know when something is right for me.’

But where does that knowing come from? And who, exactly, is this ‘me’ it’s supposedly right for?

Because that’s the real illusion, isn’t it?

The idea that there’s a separate ‘you’ who needs an internal GPS to navigate what was always going to happen anyway.

You like to think intuition is different from thinking, but isn’t it just another thought?

Just another flicker of ‘yes’ or ‘no’ rising and falling like everything else?

You imagine it’s some mystical force, some higher intelligence whispering through you, but watch what happens the moment you stop chasing it.

Does life actually need your input?

Do you really need confirmation on what’s already unfolding?

Or is the whole game—intuition, decision-making, trying to ‘get it right’—just the mind playing with itself?

Because look closer, and you’ll see:

The decisions you agonized over were always going to play out the way they played out, intuition or not.

The so-called ‘wrong’ turns were never actually wrong.

And whether you felt guided or not, you still ended up here.

And here is the only place you ever could have been.

So what happens if you stop waiting for signs, stop following nudges, stop trying to ‘trust your gut’ and just let life move?

What if intuition was never something to rely on—because there was never anything to figure out in the first place?

And what if you let that sink in—

Just for a second—

Just long enough for the mind to panic and grasp for something solid—

Only to find that there’s nothing there?