By Lisa T. Wood, Treasurer of Board of The Intuitive Writing Project

My intuition whispered to me softly—lay fallow like the rich, productive fields and something new will grow.

So I cleared the field of my life, turned it over, aerated it and then let it be. Oh, it’s not as if I did “nothing.” I nurtured the soil of my field, for sure. I watered it with time and fed it with love. I tilled it with curiosity and protected it with intention. Below the surface, my field shifted and changed, the soil pregnant with hope, ideas, and excitement—life!

One day, a small, green bud poked up, the tender top of its stalk translucent green, greeting the sun shyly for the first time. A small leaf uncurled itself from the safety of the stalk, still resting for courage on a small opening in the soil. The sun beckoned, the sky held itself open and the breeze encouraged the little leaf with the heady and sweet scent of the future.

On my hands and knees I looked closely, to see this fresh-born from the field. From the healthy, rested soil, I saw I had grown a whole new me.