Before I googled “impulse vs. intuition,” I knew in my gut there was a difference between the two.
Both arise from the gut and not the brain. Both arrive quickly and both can feel like truth.
Impulse is reactionary. It’s often rooted in fear, urgency, scarcity, discomfort, or craving. It lunges.
Intuition is measured.
Intuition feels more like a centering breath and leaning toward what aligns. It may come quickly, but it doesn’t shove.
When I follow intuition, I don’t typically get myself in a pickle.
Impulse decisions, however, can become full dives into the pickle jar.
Yesterday, I made an impulse click after reading a Bluesky comment about the NYC Midnight 500 Word Challenge.
Nine hours before the prompts dropped, I was registered.
At 11 p.m. last night my time, the clock started ticking off the 48 hours that I have to write 500 words using the assigned genre, action, and object prompts.
This was definitely an impulsive, not intuitive, click.
I’m busy this weekend. And after browsing the judges’ bios and headshots, I felt my deep-South, middle-aged white-woman tethers tightening around me.
But hell, I already paid the entry fee.
There’s not much more to lose except sleep, confidence, and maybe another wrestling match with my ego.
If I had paused, taken a breath, and read through the challenge details before registering, I may have clicked anyway. And, honestly, this challenge may be the distraction I need as forty of us wait for Ed and Amanda to drop the Not Quite Write April short list/winner episode.
My writer needs the distraction. The dare. The reminder that it’s okay to leap. I can sort it out midair. I’ve practiced this.
©Pennie Nichols. All Rights Reserved. 2026
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