I was leading an all-day professional development program for medical staff at a remote hospital. During the lunch break a couple entered the classroom and asked to speak privately with me. They were very concerned about their young son, who they said was completely helpless, paralysed, in a wheelchair, unable to speak or hear. As parents they felt so powerless and guilty around him, especially as he was growing from little boy to adolescent and they had no idea what he needed or if he was even aware of them. I asked to meet their son, one on one. They wheeled him in, his body twisted and tight, his face blank. The parents left us alone and we sat quietly for about thirty minutes. Within moments the boy was speaking to me, in a rush of great emotion. It was subtle, silent and very clear. No physical muscle moved; no sound was made. He communicated his anger, his love, his frustration and fear, his awareness and his relief at finally being able to chat normally, albeit silently with someone. I called his parents back in and explained, with his permission, that he was very conscious and able to communicate with them too, if they could listen differently. There was nothing extraordinary in this intuitive exchange, no special energy or psychic skill, nothing to fear or tire of. In fact, the moment it becomes special, it is gone.
I was brought up in Quebec, where most people are bilingual, learning both French and English from an early age. Intuitive communication is similar, becoming a kind of parallel or bilingual ability, using silent subtlety and / or spoken words, and like all language skills, it gets better with practice.