Intuition in Medicine
Intuition is one of the tools I bring into a session. People sometimes picture intuition as something vague or mystical. In my practice it is concrete: it is the information I pick up before, during, and between the questions, the labs, and the history.
I use it in three main places. First, in the initial impression I get of a person. Second, in choosing which medicines and protocols to start with. And third, in finding the root of what is going on, which is often emotional as much as physical.
The first impression
There is always an initial energetic impression when I meet someone, this is the case for most of us, and its a skill that can be enhanced and honed with practice. Sometimes that impression comes as distinct information: a specific organ system that wants attention, a word, an image, or a clear sense of what is at the center of things. Other times it is less precise and more of a quality or a texture. I might sense that a person feels:
Damp — heavy, stuck, sluggish, a sense of things not moving or draining well
Heat — inflamed, agitated, overactive, burning through their reserves
Deficient — depleted, running on empty, without enough to draw from
Excess — congested, overloaded, too much of something that needs to be cleared
They describe patterns, and the body often shows them before they show up as overt symptoms or lab abnormalities. Very often what comes through first is emotional. I may pick up grief, fear, anger, or a sense of someone holding themselves together through sheer effort. Alongside that, I can usually feel the tone of their nervous system: whether they are braced and on high alert, collapsed and shut down, or settled enough to take in what we are about to do together, and part of the therapeutic process is tailoring the session to help the persons nervous system to relax. That tone matters a great deal, because it shapes how much a person can receive and how fast we can move.
Choosing medicines and protocols
The second place intuition shows up is in deciding where to begin. Most people come in with several things going on at once, and there are usually many reasonable options on the table. The question is rarely just "what could help?" It is "what should come first?"
I think of treatment in layers. The first layer has to meet a person where they are right now. Someone who feels depleted and frayed may need nourishment and nervous system support before anything that pushes or clears. Someone who feels congested and heavy may need things to start moving before we build. My intuitive read helps me choose that first layer, and the specific remedies, supplements, or practices within it.
I often notice a clear pull toward one option over others that look equally good on paper. Sometimes a particular remedy simply feels right for this person, or a protocol I would usually reach for feels wrong for them. I pay attention to that. Then I check it against everything else I know about them.
Getting to the Root
The third layer is the root cause, and this is where intuition often does its deepest work. Symptoms are real and they deserve care, but they usually point to something underneath. That something is frequently emotional: an old loss that was never grieved, a long stretch of living in survival mode, a pattern of holding everything in.
These roots do not always reveal themselves in the first visit. As the first layers of treatment take hold and the body has more capacity, deeper material tends to surface. I stay attuned to that shift. When I sense that someone is ready, we can begin to work with the emotional processing that sits beneath the physical picture, gently and at a pace their nervous system can handle.
In my experience, this is where lasting change happens. Supporting the body clears the way, and addressing the root lets the healing hold.
In Person Intuitive Healing Sessions
In person, especially in craniosacral therapy, intuition plays a huge role, and is the main guiding force. Craniosacral work is a light-touch practice: we rest our hands gently on the head, sacrum, or other areas and listen to the subtle rhythm and tension patterns in the body. It asks us to slow down, quiet our own minds, and receive rather than direct.
That listening state is where our intuitive sense sharpens. We can feel where the tissue is holding, where the rhythm is restricted or uneven, and where the body seems to be guarding something. The same qualities we sense in a first impression show up here in a physical way: a place that feels dense and congested, one that feels hot and reactive, one that feels thin and depleted.
We let the body lead. Rather than imposing a sequence, we follow where it draws our hands and wait for the tissue to soften and release on its own. Often, as a restriction unwinds, emotion moves with it. A person may suddenly feel sad, remember something, take a deep spontaneous breath, or simply feel their whole system settle.
Hands-on work also lets us go deeper than we can in conversation alone. Sometimes stored memories come up as the tissue releases, surfacing in images, sensations, or feelings the person didn't expect. Sometimes the organs themselves seem to "speak" in their own way. We might sense that the liver is holding frustration, the heart is guarded, or the gut is braced against something. We hold this information gently and explore it with the person, letting it add depth to the picture rather than define it.
This is one of the clearest places where the physical, emotional, and energetic layers meet. A session can quietly open the door to the root-level work described above, in a way that feels safe because the body sets the pace.
Intuition and clinical reasoning, together
Intuition never replaces the fundamentals, rather often it aligns with the analytical information. I still take a thorough history, listen carefully, order labs when they are warranted, and draw on what I know about physiology and the medicines I use. What intuition does is help me see where to look and what to prioritize.
The two inform each other. An impression of deficiency might lead me to check for specific depletions. A lab result might confirm what I sensed, or it might surprise me and send me back to look again. When my intuition and the objective picture disagree, I take that seriously and keep exploring rather than forcing one to fit the other.
Intuition is also a skill that grows with practice and humility. I treat my impressions as information to explore with the person in front of me, not as conclusions to hand them. They are the expert on their own experience, and the best insights tend to come from that conversation.
For me, intuition is a way of listening more fully. It lets me take in the whole person — their energy, their emotions, their nervous system, and their body — and respond to what is actually there. Combined with solid clinical knowledge, it makes care more personal, more precise, and more likely to reach the root of what someone is carrying.
