It could be a mug, a key, a spoon, or a pencil. Today, we’re going to play with it.

Change the name to change the way you see it

That object is tired. Tired of being called the same thing. Tired of doing what it’s meant to do. Let’s give it a holiday and give it another name instead. An absurd one.
One that doesn’t match what it represents. One that makes you smile and wonder whether you’ve slightly lost a screw somewhere along the way.

• The spoon could become a silver racket.
• The key could become a metal jewel.
• The mug could become a porcelain hat.

Don’t explain why. Just look at it again. Is it still exactly the same?

Sometimes creativity with simple objects begins like this — by changing a single word.

The Italian writer Gianni Rodari spoke about this in The Grammar of Fantasy: when we bring together things that don’t usually belong together… something wakes up.

That’s what we’re doing here. Waking up perception. This creative game with an everyday object is a simple way of practising intuitive vision at home.

An exercise also used in intuitive vision: switch hands

Now let’s take it one step further. If you’re right-handed, use your left. If you’re left-handed, use your right.

Pick up the object with your non-dominant hand. Move it. Turn it. Place it somewhere else.

If you feel like it, try doing more things today with that hand: opening a door, writing a word, brushing your teeth.

Not to do it perfectly. To feel.

The “clumsy” hand forces you to pay attention. The movement slows down. Your gaze becomes more present. And suddenly, something simple begins to change.

Dr. Joe Dispenza often points out that when you do something new — like brushing your teeth with your non-dominant hand, changing your routine, or learning a new skill — you’re nudging the brain out of autopilot. This activates neural circuits you don’t usually rely on and may help create or strengthen new synaptic connections.

This small exercise, also applicable to intuitive vision, can be done at home in less than five minutes. And yes — it works. (If the coffee spills, the blog takes no responsibility…)

It’s not the object. It’s you.

We’re not trying to become more creative. We’re loosening habit. As we saw in Simple Materials, Infinite Possibilities, you don’t need anything extraordinary to shift your perception. An everyday object can become something new. And so can you.

And then…

We haven’t done anything extraordinary. We’ve just renamed a spoon and used the “wrong” hand. And yet, something moved.

Maybe imagination doesn’t need big plans. Just small acts of mischief.

Tomorrow the object will go back to being what it was. Although you and I both know… it might not be exactly the same. And that changes quite a lot.

La entrada Creative play with an everyday object se publicó primero en Eyesoul.

Dear me,

I’m writing this for those days when it feels like everything is working… except you.
Even though I know I’m going through an intuitive vision process, there are moments when my confidence wobbles and those rather annoying doubts start to show up.

You know the one, right? The mind with its favourite lines:

— Others can do it.
— You can’t.
— You’re not capable.
— Maybe this just isn’t for you.

(The mind doesn’t just “get in the way”. It can put together an entire movie — dramatic soundtrack included.)

That voice tends to appear when expectations aren’t met.
Or when you get that strange feeling that something is slightly off, even though everything looks perfectly normal from the outside.

And I want to remind you of something, calmly: Not everything that isn’t visible is going wrong.

The invisible part of an intuitive vision process

Do you remember when those meditations started to appear in your life?

Something very strange was happening. Your body moved. Something was activating. But you didn’t feel anything clearly. Nothing. And that’s unsettling.

When you work with perception and intuitive vision, what matters most is often not the spectacular experiences, but what quietly begins to take shape from the inside.

Until one day, the chest thing began. That swirling sensation. That warmth that made it feel as if your heart might jump out. As if something inside was spinning.
Even that internal sound that made you think: “Am I the only one hearing this?” (…yes, it was you.) And still, you doubted.

It happened with every energy centre. One by one. And it wasn’t immediate. It didn’t happen during some magical three-day retreat.

It took 16 months.

Sixteen months of simple consistency — of continuing to knock on the door without knowing exactly when it would open.There were no guarantees. No spectacular signs. Just the inner sense that if you kept knocking, that day would come.

And it did.

Not because you forced anything. Not because you pushed yourself beyond what you could give. But because the body needed its own time to understand, integrate, and open.

And when it finally happened, you remembered those sincere words from Joe Dispenza — not as some magical promise someone had made, but as something that finally made sense in your own experience.

Allow yourself to receive letters from someone who loves you and wants the best for you. Even if that person is you. With love, your self in process.

Doubt is also part of the process

Developing intuitive vision isn’t like flipping a switch. It’s an inner maturation process that needs time, consistency, and trust.

And doubt, uncomfortable as it may be, is also part of the path.
So if today you doubt, breathe. If today something feels like it’s not how it “should” be, don’t turn it into a verdict.

Sometimes it’s not off. It’s just maturing. With love (and a little more patience), me.

If you are going through your own process and need support, you can learn more about intuitive vision sessions here.

La entrada Learning to trust the intuitive vision process se publicó primero en Eyesoul.

Before anything else, an important clarification:
These are not exercises to achieve anything special.

They are not tests. They are not training.
And no — they are not meant to prove anything to anyone (not even to yourself).

They are just games.

And from experience — in sessions and beyond — I can say that when someone takes them too seriously, they tend to stop being useful. That’s when Ms. Frustration shows up… and there’s not much left to do.
Curiously, when a smile or a silly laugh appears, the body begins to cooperate much more.
(You might not stop laughing afterwards…)

The proposal is simpler than it seems

This is not about “seeing well”, noticing more, or having something interesting to report afterwards. It’s about listening.

Listening to how the body responds.
Listening to what appears… or doesn’t appear.
Listening even when all that’s there is a big and honest: “I don’t feel anything.”
It has happened to me — and it still does.

In sessions, that moment often comes with a sense of relief.
As if the body were saying: “Ah, okay… I don’t have to do this right.”

The atmosphere is almost everything

You can play alone, with your family, or with someone you trust. But more important than the game itself is the atmosphere.

You might feel like I’m repeating myself. I probably am. But setting aside pressure, corrections, and hurry makes a big difference. I see it every day.

Add a bit of humour and care less about doing it right — and the cocktail is complete.

Some simple ideas

Remember what I said before: there’s no wrong way to do this. Everything is perfect.

• The Colour You Can Feel

Choose a colour — out loud or silently — and notice what happens in your body.

This is not about imagining or guessing. Just notice what reaches you.

Is it temperature? A strange emotion? A fleeting image? Or maybe the urge to yawn?

It’s not important to describe the shape. What matters is noticing how whatever comes, comes —
as pressure, as an impulse….

• Shapes with the Hands

One person makes a simple shape with their hands. The other, with their eyes closed, listens.

It’s not important to describe the shape. What matters is noticing how whatever comes, comes —
as pressure, as an impulse… Saying “I have no idea” is also an option — and possibly a doorway, even if it doesn’t seem like it.

• The Photo That Speaks

Place a photo face down and, without looking, listen to what appears. Here you can let your imagination move freely, without embarrassment. For example:

A word. A sensation. A slightly absurd story. Or nothing at all.

You can turn the photo over afterwards… or not. Because the game isn’t in checking, but in that moment beforehand — when you allow yourself to listen without looking and without expectations.

• The Body’s Yes and No

Ask simple, neutral questions. Nothing important. Nothing existential.
Often the body responds before the mind does:
a different breath, a small gesture, a soft tension, a turn of the head…

And if the familiar thought comes up:

“I think I’m making this up” — keep going anyway.
The body responds quietly, not particularly concerned with the mind’s opinion.

Some important hints

It’s not about getting it right. It’s about noticing how what comes, comes… and also when nothing comes.

With children: fewer words, more laughter. With adults: less explanation, more curiosity.

And if one day you don’t feel like playing — don’t play. Listening to that “no” is also a form of perception. And even if it doesn’t seem like it, that too is an important game.

If you’d like to share ideas and new games to practise at home, I encourage you to do so.

Warm regards, Susanna

La entrada Games to practise ta home se publicó primero en Eyesoul.

They are open materials that can be used in many different ways, and that work just as well for someone who is just beginning as for someone with more experience. What changes is not the object, but the proposal, the play, and the way of approaching it. This way of approaching play is closely related to what I share in the post Play Is Only for Children. The same material can accompany very different processes without needing to be replaced by something “better”.

Materials with a story

Very often, the most interesting things aren’t found in a shop, but in the memory chest — that place where many mothers keep toys from when their children were little.

In my case, the materials don’t come from just one place or one stage of my life.

Some belonged to my own children, some are new ones I couldn’t resist, and others arrive with a story Among my materials there is everything: colourful plastic cutlery, cups of all sizes, rubber bands, pom-poms…
Little things that one day are lying around the house and suddenly, another day, your children tell you very seriously that they don’t want them anymore or that they no longer need them.

The other day, for example, María told me very firmly: “I don’t use this.” She showed me a game with pink and blue ping-pong balls that were supposed to land inside a tiny box with a ridiculously small opening — practically impossible to hit. I looked at the game, looked at it again… and started laughing. Truly. Even now, writing this, I’m still laughing.

I thought: How many glasses of wine would I need to drink to manage this?

Today I experienced something similar in the kindergarten, watching how the little ones became inspired creating structures with cardboard, small boxes, ribbons, caps, glue, and masking tape.
They were immersed in a world where creative boundaries were limitless.

And that’s where the magic lies. What no longer makes sense to them sometimes becomes the perfect material for me. Not because the object is special, but because it doesn’t impose, it doesn’t demand, it doesn’t promise anything. They are simple materials, almost absurd, light — inviting play without taking things too seriously, and allowing us to listen to what happens when there is simply no human way of doing it “wrong”.

Sharing and giving new life

There are also simple and special materials that belonged to my nephew and were part of his everyday life. When I knew they were no longer going to be used, a light turned on inside me. It filled me with joy to think that my project could give them a new life — that other children could enjoy them, and that they could continue accompanying, in a different way.

Sharing is just that: allowing what has been important to one person to continue doing good for others, without attachment or nostalgia — simply allowing it to remain in motion.

Less is more (really)

In sessions, I see again and again that you don’t need much to begin. In fact, the simpler the material, the more space there is to listen. That’s why, for a first encounter with intuitive vision, I usually propose something very simple: coloured cardstock.

Nothing more. Not as a closed exercise, and not as something to do “right”, but as a first contact.

Something that doesn’t intimidate, that doesn’t impose, and that doesn’t activate the feeling of: I have to get it right.

A first proposal

The idea is to go slowly, without pressure, introducing the colours little by little. It’s not about seeing them, analysing them, or looking for meanings. It’s about feeling them, listening to the body, and observing what information arrives — or doesn’t arrive.

Sometimes a sensation appears. Sometimes an emotion. And sometimes absolutely nothing. And all of that is fine.
There are no correct answers and no goals to achieve — only presence, listening, and curiosity. And very often, to begin with, that is already more than enough.

La entrada Simple materials, infinite possibilities se publicó primero en Eyesoul.

If you’ve arrived here, you’re probably a curious adult. Perhaps you have children, perhaps you spend time with them, or perhaps — as happened to me — you feel it’s been a long time since you’ve played in this way: without pressure, and from the body. Here, I share games for children of all ages, including yours.

This text doesn’t offer games or specific proposals. It offers something simpler and, at times, more difficult: permission.

An important note: this is not a test. There is no judgment. Zero control.

Playing is not about doing things right or learning something new. It’s about trying, making mistakes, laughing, and thinking a little less. It’s about letting the body go first and set the rhythm.

When children play, they are not chasing results. They move, stop, get bored, laugh, and begin again without overthinking. The body responds before the mind and doesn’t need explanations.

• Sometimes it responds with laughter.
• Sometimes with movement.
• Sometimes with silence.

All of that is information too — believe me.

A way of being

Playing like a child has less to do with what is done and more with how one is. With moving without a goal, looking around with curiosity, sitting on the floor, or changing the usual rhythm of the day.

Daily contact with young children has given me something I didn’t expect.
Sitting on the floor with them, playing with dolls, running, building wooden towers, creating shapes with blocks, stringing bead necklaces, decorating little boxes, sewing what breaks, or playing memory games has awakened in me a childlike part that may have been waiting for its moment.

In this unhurried sharing, I feel that I too recover time, perspective, and the richness of seeing the world through a child’s eyes.

And something similar happens in sessions

In sessions, something very similar to play takes place. Sometimes we don’t do anything special at all.
It might be sitting on the floor, moving a little, playing with an object, or simply flowing and seeing what emerges.

There is nowhere to get to and nothing specific that needs to happen. We observe what unfolds when there’s no hurry, when nothing has to be done right, and when we allow ourselves to stop.

Very often, just like in play, it’s in these simple moments that clarity appears — a sensation, an emotion, an image, or simply a deep rest.

And all of that is fine.

The smile

Over time, I’ve noticed something very simple: when someone smiles, things often work out better.
Not because they do them better, but because they’re more at ease, more comfortable, and less tense.

I see this often with children and in sessions too. When the body relaxes and a spontaneous smile appears — even a small one — something shifts. Things flow a little more easily.

There’s no need to look for it or force it. Just like in play, the less it’s chased, the more easily it appears.

Stopping is also part of the game

If one day you feel tired, you stop — as simple as noticing it. The same happens if boredom appears or if you don’t feel like doing anything at all. The best option, then, is to stop.
Listening to that limit is also part of the game, and part of perception.

This way of playing doesn’t aim to develop skills or train abilities. It seeks something simpler: to recover a lighter and more present attitude towards experience.
It often rests on simple materials — have you already read the post?

Because play only makes sense when it comes from willingness, not obligation.

La entrada Play is only for children (or for anyone brave enough to play like one) se publicó primero en Eyesoul.