Start Here: Have Compassion for Yourself
Written by Derek Wolf for Learn to Be Intuitive at L2Bintuitive.com
If today is your first day learning to be intuitive, good.
Let it be.
Let it be your first day without shame, without self-judgment, and without comparing yourself to where you think you should already be.
Everyone wants to get clear.
Everyone wants to feel certain, confident, connected.
But what nobody says out loud is this:
Learning to listen to yourself often begins with unlearning how you’ve been treating yourself.
And that takes compassion.
Not the soft, fluffy kind
but the kind that holds steady when you’re frustrated.
The kind that reminds you, “This isn’t failure. This is practice.”
Because here’s the truth most people avoid:
You will doubt yourself.
You will get it wrong.
You will override your own knowing sometimes—even after you swore you wouldn’t.
And that doesn’t mean you’re not intuitive.
It just means you’re human.
So instead of beating yourself up every time you miss a signal or override your gut, do something different:
Start again.
And lean forward, not backward.
Don’t spiral into “I should’ve known better.”
That pulls you into the past.
That feeds resentment.
That keeps you stuck.
Instead ask:
What did I learn?
What did that moment show me about how I react under pressure?
How can I support myself better next time?
That’s what learning to be intuitive really looks like.
Not floating in a mystical state of clarity
but learning to pause, check in, and start again with grace.
Your progress won’t be a straight line.
Some days you’ll feel wide open.
Some days you’ll feel shut down.
Some days you’ll hear your inner voice clearly.
And some days it’ll feel like static.
That’s okay.
What matters most is not how quickly you “get it right”
but how gently you respond to yourself while you’re learning.
So if today feels like your first day, let it be.
If it feels like your tenth restart, let that be too.
You’re not behind.
You’re not broken.
You’re rebuilding trust with yourself—moment by moment.
So keep leaning forward.
You’re not here to get it perfect.
You’re here to get honest.
And that’s enough.
What self-compassion looks like in practice
Self-compassion isn’t a mood—it’s a behavior.
It sounds like: “Of course that was hard.”
It moves like: taking three breaths before you answer the text.
It chooses: water over another doom-scroll.
It remembers: you don’t need to earn your own kindness.
Think of compassion as the container for intuition.
When the container is harsh, your inner voice goes quiet.
When the container is gentle, your inner voice gets brave.
Three promises to make to yourself (and keep)
1) I will not weaponize hindsight.
No more punishing yourself for what you can only see clearly now.
2) I will replace judgment with curiosity.
Swap “Why am I like this?” for “What is this trying to teach me?”
3) I will measure progress by presence, not perfection.
Did you pause? Did you check in? That counts.
When old patterns flare
There will be days you slip into people-pleasing, overthinking, or numbness.
On those days, do not make grand declarations about who you are.
Make a small decision about what you’ll do next.
Text yourself one honest sentence: “I feel overwhelmed and I’m going outside for five minutes.”
That one sentence is a stitch in the fabric of trust.
Your body is on your side
Intuition speaks body-first—through breath, chest, belly, jaw, shoulders.
Self-compassion says: “I’ll listen to those signals without shaming them.”
Try this micro-practice right now:
Place one hand on your sternum and one on your belly.
Inhale through the nose for four counts, exhale through the mouth for six.
Do that three times.
Then ask, quietly: “What do I need in the next hour?”
Take the smallest step toward that need.
Five gentle anchors for wobbly days
• Name the moment: “This is a learning moment, not a verdict.”
• Lower the bar: Choose the 60-second version of care (stretch, sip, step outside).
• One kind sentence: Talk to yourself like you would a dear friend.
• Micro-choice: Ask, “What’s the next honest step?” and do only that.
• Close the loop: Celebrate completion out loud: “I did that.”
A 7-day compassion-first starter plan
Day 1: Begin with three breaths and one question: “What would feel supportive today?” Write it down.
Day 2: Practice a no that honors your energy. Keep it kind and brief.
Day 3: Eat, move, or rest when your body asks—once—without negotiating.
Day 4: Journal five lines: “I knew… / I ignored… / I learned… / I’ll try… / I’m proud that…”
Day 5: Replace one doom-loop thought with a compassionate reframe: “I’m learning. I don’t need to rush.”
Day 6: Ask for what you want in one conversation. Simple. Specific. No apology.
Day 7: Review the week. Circle one win to repeat next week.
When doubt gets loud
Doubt loves speed and certainty. Compassion loves slowness and presence.
If you’re spinning, try the 3S reset: Stand up, See five true things in the room, Soften your shoulders.
Then ask, “What is the smallest experiment I can run?” Intuition thrives on experiments—not ultimatums.
Three common traps (and the exits)
• Trap: “If I’m compassionate, I’ll get complacent.”
Exit: Compassion isn’t a pass; it’s fuel. People change faster when they feel safe.
• Trap: “If I were truly intuitive, I wouldn’t doubt.”
Exit: Doubt means your old survival system is checking the locks. Thank it; choose anyway.
• Trap: “I messed up, so I’m starting from zero.”
Exit: You never start from zero. You start from experience.
Language that helps (copy/paste)
“I’m learning. I don’t need to rush clarity.”
“My body is telling me the truth; I’m listening.”
“This is uncomfortable and I can stay with myself.”
“Today I choose the next honest step.”
How compassion protects your boundaries
It’s easier to say no when you aren’t shaming yourself for needing one.
Try boundary frames like:
• “I can do 15 minutes now; for more, let’s schedule.”
• “I’m not available for that, but here’s what I can offer.”
• “I need some quiet tonight; I’ll check in tomorrow.”
Each clean boundary is a love note to your future self.
Each kept promise is proof that you are safe with you.
Celebrate tiny evidence
Intuitive confidence grows from kept promises, not perfect outcomes.
Keep a notes app list titled “Proof I can trust myself.”
Add three lines a day—minuscule counts: “Chose water,” “Paused before replying,” “Went for a 5-minute walk.”
When fear argues, you’ll have receipts.
If you feel late to your life
You are right on time for the person you’re becoming.
Every moment you choose compassion over criticism, you shorten the distance between who you are and how you live.
When you need to begin again (script)
Pause. Hand to heart.
Say, “I forgive the version of me that didn’t know how yet.”
Say, “I’m willing to learn.”
Ask, “What would supportive look like for the next hour?”
Do that. Close the loop: “I showed up for me.”
You don’t have to turn your life around in a day.
You only have to turn toward yourself in this one.
So if today is your first day, welcome.
If it’s your first day again, welcome twice.
You are allowed to be a beginner for as long as it takes.
Beginnings are holy. Compassion makes them durable.
Keep going.
Keep listening.
Keep starting again—with kindness.
You’re not here to get it perfect.
You’re here to get honest.
And that’s enough.
Derek
Derek Wolf © 2025 Derek Wolf. All rights reserved.
Originally published on L2Bintuitive.com
Written by Derek Wolf for Learn to Be Intuitive at L2Bintuitive.com
If today is your first day learning to be intuitive, good.
Let it be.
Let it be your first day without shame, without self-judgment, and without comparing yourself to where you think you should already be.
Everyone wants to get clear.
Everyone wants to feel certain, confident, connected.
But what nobody says out loud is this:
Learning to listen to yourself often begins with unlearning how you’ve been treating yourself.
And that takes compassion.
Not the soft, fluffy kind
but the kind that holds steady when you’re frustrated.
The kind that reminds you, “This isn’t failure. This is practice.”
Because here’s the truth most people avoid:
You will doubt yourself.
You will get it wrong.
You will override your own knowing sometimes—even after you swore you wouldn’t.
And that doesn’t mean you’re not intuitive.
It just means you’re human.
So instead of beating yourself up every time you miss a signal or override your gut, do something different:
Start again.
And lean forward, not backward.
Don’t spiral into “I should’ve known better.”
That pulls you into the past.
That feeds resentment.
That keeps you stuck.
Instead ask:
What did I learn?
What did that moment show me about how I react under pressure?
How can I support myself better next time?
That’s what learning to be intuitive really looks like.
Not floating in a mystical state of clarity
but learning to pause, check in, and start again with grace.
Your progress won’t be a straight line.
Some days you’ll feel wide open.
Some days you’ll feel shut down.
Some days you’ll hear your inner voice clearly.
And some days it’ll feel like static.
That’s okay.
What matters most is not how quickly you “get it right”
but how gently you respond to yourself while you’re learning.
So if today feels like your first day, let it be.
If it feels like your tenth restart, let that be too.
You’re not behind.
You’re not broken.
You’re rebuilding trust with yourself—moment by moment.
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And the next moment is always waiting.So keep leaning forward.
You’re not here to get it perfect.
You’re here to get honest.
And that’s enough.
What self-compassion looks like in practice
Self-compassion isn’t a mood—it’s a behavior.
It sounds like: “Of course that was hard.”
It moves like: taking three breaths before you answer the text.
It chooses: water over another doom-scroll.
It remembers: you don’t need to earn your own kindness.
Think of compassion as the container for intuition.
When the container is harsh, your inner voice goes quiet.
When the container is gentle, your inner voice gets brave.
Three promises to make to yourself (and keep)
1) I will not weaponize hindsight.
No more punishing yourself for what you can only see clearly now.
2) I will replace judgment with curiosity.
Swap “Why am I like this?” for “What is this trying to teach me?”
3) I will measure progress by presence, not perfection.
Did you pause? Did you check in? That counts.
When old patterns flare
There will be days you slip into people-pleasing, overthinking, or numbness.
On those days, do not make grand declarations about who you are.
Make a small decision about what you’ll do next.
Text yourself one honest sentence: “I feel overwhelmed and I’m going outside for five minutes.”
That one sentence is a stitch in the fabric of trust.
Your body is on your side
Intuition speaks body-first—through breath, chest, belly, jaw, shoulders.
Self-compassion says: “I’ll listen to those signals without shaming them.”
Try this micro-practice right now:
Place one hand on your sternum and one on your belly.
Inhale through the nose for four counts, exhale through the mouth for six.
Do that three times.
Then ask, quietly: “What do I need in the next hour?”
Take the smallest step toward that need.
Five gentle anchors for wobbly days
• Name the moment: “This is a learning moment, not a verdict.”
• Lower the bar: Choose the 60-second version of care (stretch, sip, step outside).
• One kind sentence: Talk to yourself like you would a dear friend.
• Micro-choice: Ask, “What’s the next honest step?” and do only that.
• Close the loop: Celebrate completion out loud: “I did that.”
A 7-day compassion-first starter plan
Day 1: Begin with three breaths and one question: “What would feel supportive today?” Write it down.
Day 2: Practice a no that honors your energy. Keep it kind and brief.
Day 3: Eat, move, or rest when your body asks—once—without negotiating.
Day 4: Journal five lines: “I knew… / I ignored… / I learned… / I’ll try… / I’m proud that…”
Day 5: Replace one doom-loop thought with a compassionate reframe: “I’m learning. I don’t need to rush.”
Day 6: Ask for what you want in one conversation. Simple. Specific. No apology.
Day 7: Review the week. Circle one win to repeat next week.
When doubt gets loud
Doubt loves speed and certainty. Compassion loves slowness and presence.
If you’re spinning, try the 3S reset: Stand up, See five true things in the room, Soften your shoulders.
Then ask, “What is the smallest experiment I can run?” Intuition thrives on experiments—not ultimatums.
Three common traps (and the exits)
• Trap: “If I’m compassionate, I’ll get complacent.”
Exit: Compassion isn’t a pass; it’s fuel. People change faster when they feel safe.
• Trap: “If I were truly intuitive, I wouldn’t doubt.”
Exit: Doubt means your old survival system is checking the locks. Thank it; choose anyway.
• Trap: “I messed up, so I’m starting from zero.”
Exit: You never start from zero. You start from experience.
Language that helps (copy/paste)
“I’m learning. I don’t need to rush clarity.”
“My body is telling me the truth; I’m listening.”
“This is uncomfortable and I can stay with myself.”
“Today I choose the next honest step.”
How compassion protects your boundaries
It’s easier to say no when you aren’t shaming yourself for needing one.
Try boundary frames like:
• “I can do 15 minutes now; for more, let’s schedule.”
• “I’m not available for that, but here’s what I can offer.”
• “I need some quiet tonight; I’ll check in tomorrow.”
Each clean boundary is a love note to your future self.
Each kept promise is proof that you are safe with you.
Celebrate tiny evidence
Intuitive confidence grows from kept promises, not perfect outcomes.
Keep a notes app list titled “Proof I can trust myself.”
Add three lines a day—minuscule counts: “Chose water,” “Paused before replying,” “Went for a 5-minute walk.”
When fear argues, you’ll have receipts.
If you feel late to your life
You are right on time for the person you’re becoming.
Every moment you choose compassion over criticism, you shorten the distance between who you are and how you live.
When you need to begin again (script)
Pause. Hand to heart.
Say, “I forgive the version of me that didn’t know how yet.”
Say, “I’m willing to learn.”
Ask, “What would supportive look like for the next hour?”
Do that. Close the loop: “I showed up for me.”
You don’t have to turn your life around in a day.
You only have to turn toward yourself in this one.
So if today is your first day, welcome.
If it’s your first day again, welcome twice.
You are allowed to be a beginner for as long as it takes.
Beginnings are holy. Compassion makes them durable.
Keep going.
Keep listening.
Keep starting again—with kindness.
You’re not here to get it perfect.
You’re here to get honest.
And that’s enough.
Derek
Derek Wolf © 2025 Derek Wolf. All rights reserved.
Originally published on L2Bintuitive.com
