When the Veil Thins, Tune In: The Lost Art of Intuition

In a world overflowing with information, it can feel almost impossible to hear the quiet murmur of our own inner voice. From the moment we wake, we are bombarded: endless news updates, social media scrolls, texts, and the constant hum of opinions vying for our attention. All of it fills the space where intuition—the whispering language of the subconscious—once thrived.

Yet, as writers, intuition is one of our greatest tools. It’s what allows us to leap into a story we don’t fully understand yet, to follow a surprising character down an unplanned path, or to trust an image or phrase that arrives out of nowhere. Without it, we risk writing only what we already know, instead of what wants to reveal itself.

Fall: The Season of Listening

October, with its crisp air and longer nights, brings a natural invitation to slow down and listen. Folklore tells us that in autumn, as the veil thins between the seen and unseen, intuition becomes easier to access. Shadows stretch differently, the wind carries voices, and we sense the tug of what lies just beyond.

This is the perfect time of year to tune in. The season itself seems to whisper: pay attention, the unseen is speaking.

Why We Lose Touch with Intuition

Intuition is quiet, subtle, and often inconvenient. It rarely announces itself in bold type. Instead, it flickers in images, hunches, gut feelings, or sudden questions that surface in stillness. When we drown our senses in constant input, we crowd out those fleeting signals. It’s like trying to hear an owl’s call on a windy night—you know it’s there, but the noise drowns it out.

Our culture rewards speed, productivity, and certainty. Intuition asks for slowness, stillness, and trust. It feels risky to follow because it rarely comes with a guarantee, but instead with a nudge: “this way, try this, pay attention.”

Reclaiming the Lost Art

The good news is intuition can be reawakened. Like any art, it thrives with practice:

  • Silence the noise. Even a few minutes of quiet each day—no phone, no media, just breath—can make space for inner knowing to rise.
  • Notice the body. Intuition often lives in the gut, the chest, the skin prickling on your arms. Writing down where and how you feel things can help you recognize its signals.
  • Follow the odd image. When a strange metaphor or unexpected detail shows up in your writing, resist the urge to explain it away. Let it lead you.
  • Trust the detours. If you sit down to write one thing but another insists on being written, follow that tug. Intuition often works sideways.

One of my favorite ways to access this hidden reservoir is through freewriting. When we put pen to paper without censoring, judging, or editing, we bypass the noisy critic in our head. Freewriting allows the subconscious to slip through, offering images, insights, and connections that often surprise us. It is a way of honoring the intuition that we so often ignore. In the flow of words that tumble out, we begin to recognize patterns, truths, and directions that were there all along, waiting to be heard.

Tuning in to our intuition is not about achieving perfection or following rules. It is about reclaiming an ancient art: the art of listening inwardly. As the veil thins, perhaps it is time to sit with the page, quiet the outside world, and let your own inner compass

Intuition as a Writer’s Compass

The deepest writing often doesn’t come from logic or planning alone—it comes from the subterranean river of memory, dream, and imagination. Intuition is the compass that guides us into that underground place. When we let it lead, we discover connections we couldn’t have forced, truths we didn’t know we were carrying, and stories that surprise even us.

This October, let the season itself be your reminder. As the veil thins and the shadows lengthen, practice listening for what arises in the quiet. Intuition is not a luxury—it is the thread that ties us to the mystery of creativity itself. To follow it is to reclaim a lost art, both in writing and in life.

(And if you are interested in learning about intuitively understanding your surroundings check out the books by writer Tristan Gooley, like The Nature Instinct or The Natural Navigator.)

Thank you for reading this post and visiting the Old Scratch Press Blog. Next Saturday October 25th at 5:00 p.m., three members of the Old Scratch Press Team are participating in a special online reading from their newly published books. FREE. Read more about it here. And follow us on Facebook.

Ellis Elliott, Founding Member, Old Scratch Press Collective, Author: Break in the Field and A Witch Awakens: A Fire Circle Mystery available on Amazon. Bewilderness Writing : http://bewildernesswriting.com/

In the Season of the Witch: Discovering the Appalachian Granny Witch

When I first read my great-great-grandfather’s Civil War memoir*, I wasn’t expecting to find stories that would inspire my own writing. But tucked among the tales of battle, violence, and survival was a mention of a woman named “Granny Grills”—a healer who gave him charms for protection and herbal preparations for healing. This mysterious “granny witch” lived in the mountains of East Tennessee, tending to her community with a mix of folk wisdom and the magic of the mountains.

Granny Grills introduced me to the rich tradition of the Appalachian Granny Witches (or Granny Women) who served in the isolated towns with the combined roles of midwife, herbal healer, and preparer of the dead for burial. While inspired by Appalachian folklore, the archetype of the folk healer—often a wise, self-sufficient woman—is found across many cultures, from Latin American curanderas to the hedge witches of England. Each of these traditions reflects our very human need to connect with the earth, heal with natural remedies, and seek wisdom from those who live closest to the land.

We live in an age where technology rules, and I think folk magic endures in literature because it connects us with something deeper and often forgotten: our roots. The figure of the granny witch, like other folk healers, symbolizes resilience, self-reliance, and a deep respect for nature—all qualities we find ourselves yearning for in our increasingly tech-centric world. These characters are timeless because they remind us of the power within ourselves (and for me, this is called intuition) and the importance of connection, whether it is to the earth, our community, or our heritage.

Bringing folk magic into fiction isn’t just about fantasy. It can be a way to explore values like resilience, diversity, and community. Granny witches and other similar folk traditions speak to readers because they represent a balance of independence and tradition. They remind us that wisdom is often found where it is least expected, and that those who honor nature and listen to their own “still, small voice” hold a unique kind of power.

*The Thrilling Adventures of Daniel Ellis: 1861-1865, Harper and Bros. 1867. Available on Amazon.

Ellis Elliott is the author of the poetry collection Break in the Field and is currently working on her first cozy mystery novel based on a lineage of Appalachian granny witches.