The Art of Intuition

WHEN I WAS A LITTLE GIRL, a dowser came out to my grandmother’s farm to walk the pastures looking for water, or rather for where to place a well. Everyone who grows up in the country is familiar with these so-called water witches, who have the ability to take a slender Y-shaped branch in their hands (preferably hazel, willow, or peach), stride up and down the hills, and find by the bending of the branch the best site for drilling. (A variety of rods, straight or bent, wire or plastic, are used for dowsing as well as for finding minerals, pipes, oil, and electrical and other forces.) I was about twelve at the time, and curious. I remember I took the dowser’s branch and discovered I, too, had the gift—except in reverse! The branch tore the very skin off my hands as I struggled to keep it from moving. It lifted its point skyward and twisted round, slashing, whipping me in the face! I felt humiliated when the grown-ups laughed, but I had no doubt about what happened, for I’d done everything I could to prevent the stick from moving. I don’t use the gift, but on those occasions when for fun I’ve tried, the wand always behaves in the reckless same way: swiveling skyward and around toward me instead of dipping courteously toward the earth and the water lying hidden in its depths.

I have a sensitive friend, Elizabeth Paige. One day, hiking alone in Crete (for these images often come when you are alone), she found herself in an isolated little valley with the stonework remains of an abandoned farm. She stood a few moments near one of the roofless stone huts (a former springhouse?) and shuddered as she saw with movie-clip clarity a young woman in long skirts who, standing near the hut, looked up from her work and was washed by terror. She’d seen her father leading his donkey up the hillside on his way home, and a wave of panic had swept over her, knowing that once again he would assault her. Incest! Rape! She had no way to protect herself. Her loneliness. Her helplessness. Her isolation. Blink! The vision lasted only a second, but it was so strong that my friend could not shake it. She hurried away. She never doubted that for one moment she’d ripped the fabric of time and seen the resonance of a real event.

Inviting Intuition IV: Using the Pendulum

Because everyone is different, there are no hard-and-fast rules for learning intuition, except the one concerning stillness and deep listening. But once you can easily attain a quiet and attentive “no-mind” state, the pendulum becomes a wondrous tool.

You may use any pendant hanging on a chain or string. A sewing needle works perfectly. Thread the needle with about twelve inches of thread and tie a knot (to keep it on the needle). Hold the knot, allowing the needle to swing free. (It may be easier to see if you hold it over a dark surface or your hand.)

Empty your mind. Go into the space of no-mind.

First you must create a relationship between yourself and your pendulum. Ask the needle to show you “Yes.” When I do it, the “Yes” presents as a vertical swing or, sometimes, when the pendulum is wildly enthusiastic, as high, fast, clockwise circles.

For “No,” the pendulum swings horizontally back and forth or else in passionate counterclockwise sweeps. But bear in mind that if your pendulum reverses this signal, that’s perfectly all right! What’s important is that you and your pendulum work together and that you both understand the signature.

Once you feel comfortable with your pendulum, you begin to work with it. Remember it can respond only with Yes or No. Your questions, therefore, must be phrased in such a way that it can provide you with either a positive or negative answer. If you ask something like “What shall I do about X?” the pendulum, helpless, will either stand still or weave the air in sinuous coils, expressing hesitation, anguish, frustration, like a dragon coiled in its lair. Break the question down.

“Should I contact X?”

“Yes.”

“By e-mail?”

“No.”

“By phone?”

“Yes.”

“Should I phone tomorrow?”

“Yes.”

“Should I call before twelve noon? Before ten o’clock? Between ten-thirty and eleven o’clock?”

“Should I apologize?”

By the time you use your pendulum daily or even several times a day, you will have acquired one that appeals to you—a jeweled watch fob, perhaps, a gold cross, or an amethyst carved and shaped into a fine point—and you’ll ask your questions and receive responses swift as thought: no one could imagine what you’ve done. But until that time and while you are learning, I suggest that each time you pick up your pendulum, you ask it for permission to work with you. Each time ask it to show you Yes and No. (There’s no point misreading the message from your higher senses).

Each time ask it three questions: Could I ask you about X? Should I ask about X? And finally, May I ask?

If you receive a deliberate “Yes” for each of the three, then boldly form your questions. You can also use the pendulum for long-sighted, farsighted information.

Your questions may be as important as whether to quit your job or change your daughter’s school. Or they may be as silly as whether your husband, who is traveling, is still asleep or if he can be phoned. Let’s say you’ve planned to meet a friend in a café and you forgot to confirm. Will he be there? Ask your pendulum. It will tell you. (You could also call on your cell phone, I agree.)

I used to dislike pendulum dowsing simply because I could make the pendant give any answer that I chose! But once you learn to empty yourself of desire for an outcome the pendulum becomes another useful tool.

The Ethics of Dowsing

Never use your pendulum in a public space, like a subway or business meeting, where strangers can see you. (Of course, if you are participating in a psychic circle or using it to give a reading on behalf of someone else, that’s another story.)

There are several reasons. First, someone may be tempted maliciously to deflect it by sending it a contradictory thought (psychokinesis), and don’t imagine that the pendulum won’t respond. Or, someone could unconsciously interfere merely by the strength of his or her energy field, and torque your answer like a compass needle shifted from true north.

But second, it’s not respectful of either the pendulum or the people around you.

Keep your pendulum in a pure and private place. Treasure it.

Remember that the pendulum, like a crystal ball or the tarot, is nothing but a tool. As you become adept, you may set it aside. You’ll scry with your perfected intuition. The answer comes instantly without the tool. Even then, however, if you’ve been ill or thrown off center by an unexpected blow, you may wish to revert to the pendulum. If you haven’t used it in a while, remember to begin each time afresh, asking it for Yes and No.