How to turn anxiety into powerful intuition (and make it your superpower)

When anxiety blares like a car alarm at 3am, what if it could become a compass pointing to what matters most?

The woman on the train across from me kept tapping her heel against the floor, a tiny metronome for a storm only she could feel. Her eyes flicked to the doors, then the map, then her watch, as if time itself might bite. I recognised that choreography. The tight chest, the tunnelled vision, the so-many-what-ifs that you could knit a jumper from them. We’ve all had that moment when your body seems to know something is off, and your mind scrambles to translate.

I watched as she paused, breathed, then took out a folded note. Three words, written in a rushed hand: “Safety, truth, agency.” She stared at the paper, shoulders lowering, as if she’d just found the manual for her dashboard. The train hummed on. The panic softened. A different kind of signal took the wheel. Something else was speaking.

What if anxiety is data, not doom?

From alarm bells to antennae

Anxiety often arrives with big sound and bigger shadows. It feels like a burglar alarm when the wind lifts the letterbox. Heart up, stomach tight, brain loud. The instinct is to silence it, to shove it back in the cupboard and slam the door.

But looked at from another angle, anxiety is the body’s way of saying, “I’m trying to keep you alive, can we talk?” It’s a message, delivered in all caps. **Anxiety isn’t always a malfunction; it’s often mislabelled information.** The art isn’t to mute it. It’s to tune it.

In the UK, surveys suggest roughly one in six adults experiences symptoms of anxiety or depression in any given week. That’s a lot of nervous systems doing their best with a complex world. Picture someone lying awake at 2am, replaying a conversation with their boss. On the surface, it’s fear. Underneath, maybe it’s a signal about values—fairness, recognition, security. When they write down “I need clarity on expectations,” their breath eases. The alarm stops ringing, and the antenna switches on.

Decode the signal, don’t fight the siren

Start with the body, not the story. Label three sensations: “buzzing in chest, heat in cheeks, jaw tight.” Then name two emotions underneath: “fear, frustration.” Finally, note one need: “certainty.” This 3-2-1 check-in turns a storm into a weather report. **Name the fear, then name the need.** The shift can be absurdly quick.

Let’s be honest: nobody really does this every day. Real life gets messy. But even once or twice a week changes the texture of your decisions. I saw a founder do this before investor calls. Her signal? Dry mouth. She drank water, sure, but she also wrote, “I need partnership, not performance.” That line changed her questions, and oddly, the investors’ tone. She was listening to the message, not the noise.

Why does this work? Stories can spiral. Sensations sit in the present tense. When you map sensations to needs, you anchor your nervous system to something actionable. It’s not about proving the fear wrong. It’s about translating it into a step: send the email asking for clarity; choose the smaller meeting room; leave five minutes earlier; say no. There’s a wiser signal beneath the noise.

Field guide: turn anxious energy into intelligent attention

Use the 90-second flood rule. Strong emotion often spikes and begins to ebb in around a minute and a half if you don’t feed it with adrenaline-chasing thoughts. Set a timer. Sit with the feeling like you’d sit with a wet dog—patient, kind, slightly amused. When the buzzer goes, ask: “What’s the cleanest, smallest action that honours what I felt?” Then do that. Nothing grand, just clean.

Watch for two common traps. First, over-mentalising: creating ten theories instead of one small step. Second, catastrophising in disguise: “If I don’t fix everything today, I’m doomed.” Swap both for experiments. Try a “micro-ask” at work—one sentence for clarity. Try a “micro-boundary” at home—five minutes of transition time before conversation. Tiny acts teach your anxious brain it can trust you to act, not just analyse. Compassion helps more than willpower here.

An anxiety-to-intuition practice thrives on context cues. Decide your cues in advance: kettle boils; train doors close; calendar reminder at 4pm. On cue, run a 30-second scan: sensation, emotion, need. Then write one sentence beginning with “So I will…” and keep it bite-sized.

“Anxiety shouts to be heard. Intuition speaks to be understood.”

• 3-2-1 check-in: three sensations, two emotions, one need.
• 90-second flood: feel it, don’t feed it.
• Micro-step: one action that honours the need today.
• Context cues: build low-friction reminders into your day.
• Reflect once a week: what patterns keep showing up?

What your anxiety has been trying to tell you

Here’s a gentle reframe. Anxiety is often a headline about misalignment—between your values and your calendar, your body and your pace, your need for safety and the way you speak to yourself. If the headline keeps shouting, the article probably matters. This doesn’t mean tolerate suffering. It means harvest the message before you change the scene.

The signal often points to one of four domains. Safety: “Are we okay here, physically or financially?” Truth: “Is something off, and am I avoiding it?” Belonging: “Am I about to be left out or judged?” Power: “Do I have a say in what happens next?” Map your anxious thought to one domain. Suddenly, you’re not battling a hydra. You’re addressing a door with a clear lock.

There’s a pragmatic payoff. Decision-making sharpens when fear gets translated into criteria. If your stomach churns before a yes, ask which domain is blinking. You may spot that your “no” isn’t fear of change but a need for a slower ramp-up. Saying so turns you from reactive to relational. **Your body keeps the receipts, your mind can read them.** The more you practise, the quieter the siren, the clearer the compass.

FAQ :

• Isn’t anxiety just a disorder to be eliminated?Sometimes anxiety is a clinical condition that deserves proper care. Often, it’s also a messenger pointing to needs or values. Both can be true at once.
• How do I tell intuition from fear?Fear shouts and narrows options. Intuition feels quieter and specific, often paired with a small, clear next step. Give it 90 seconds of space and look for the actionable line.
• What if my anxiety is constant?Start tiny: one check-in at the same time daily, one micro-step. If it’s overwhelming, consider talking with a GP or counsellor—getting support is a wise signal too.
• Can this help at work, not just at home?Yes. Turn “I’m panicking before the meeting” into “I need clarity on my role today.” Then ask one concrete question at the start. You’ll feel steadier and sound clearer.
• What if I try and it doesn’t work?Think like a scientist: adjust the variables. Change the cue, shorten the step, reflect weekly. Progress is messy. The practice is the point.