Susan H Harris Intuitive Guide, Seer, Author

Between the Buoys

Mon, 06 Jul 2026 08:00:24 -0700

There are seasons in life when something within us begins to shift.

You sense that the way you’ve always moved through life no longer feels like the fullest expression of who you are. At the same time, another way of living calls to you. You can feel it. You can almost recognize it. Yet it hasn’t fully taken shape.

Have you ever found yourself in that space?

Where one part of you knows there is more, while another part reaches for what has always felt familiar?

Spirit showed me an image years ago that has stayed with me ever since.

Imagine standing on a floating buoy.

It has carried you this far. You’ve learned how it moves. You know how to keep your balance. Even when the water becomes choppy, there is a relationship with it. It is familiar.

Then another buoy appears nearby.

It isn’t anchored. It moves with the same water, the same current, the same wind. You can see it. You can sense that it is the next place your life is inviting you. Yet you don’t know how it will feel beneath your feet until you step onto it.

What if this is what change often looks like?

Have you ever noticed how exhausting it is to make a decision?

You make a list of the pros and cons.

You ask a friend.

You search online.

You wait for a sign.

You wonder if your intuition is trying to tell you something.

Then you wonder if it’s your fear pretending to be your intuition.

You think about it while driving.

You replay the conversation before falling asleep.

You wake up hoping the answer will feel clearer in the morning.

Somewhere in the middle of all that thinking, life begins to feel very far away.

It seems like you’re trying to make a decision.

Yet perhaps you’re looking for something else.

Perhaps you’re looking for certainty.

A feeling that says,

“This is the right choice.”

“Everything will work out.”

“You’ll be okay.”

Many of us move through life believing there is one path we are meant to find.

One right decision.

One missed opportunity that changes everything.

One wrong turn that takes...Read More

The Gift Of Your Story

Sun, 05 Jul 2026 11:25:19 -0700

Every story matters.

It matters because it is yours.

It matters because it carries lessons, wisdom, courage, and understanding that only you can share. It matters because your journey becomes part of someone else’s healing.

Lately, I’ve been thinking about how much we need one another’s stories.

How did you get through it?

How did you keep going when life felt impossible?

What helped you understand?

What choices did you make?

What emotions did you meet along the way?

These are gifts. They become lanterns that light the path for someone else.

As I move through my own journey and sit with the beautiful souls I encounter, I notice something. So many people carry what feels like the weight of the world. Some carry grief. Some carry fear. Some carry family wounds that seem older than memory itself.

It makes me wonder.

Is it truly our burden to carry?

Or at some deeper level did we raise our hand and say, “I’ll take this one.”

“I’ll walk this path.”

“I’ll transform what I can for those who came before me and those who will come after me.”

There is often discussion about the pain we inherit from our ancestors. We speak of the wounds, the patterns, and the...Read More

The Missing Piece

Sun, 05 Jul 2026 11:22:41 -0700

Lately I have found myself questioning things.

Maybe it comes from a desire for harmony. Maybe it comes from years of following certain teachings and seeing where they led. Maybe it comes from reaching a point where something within me simply says, “There is more to this.”

I am not entirely sure where the questioning began.

What I do know is that over time I started paying closer attention to what I was feeling.

Not my opinions.

Not what someone else told me was true.

What I was actually experiencing.

There have been many moments in my life when an inner knowing spoke quietly before anything happened. A subtle nudge. A feeling. An awareness that something was not quite aligned.

Sometimes I listened.

Sometimes I didn’t.

Sometimes I wanted something badly enough that I walked right past what I knew.

Love.

Opportunity.

Belonging.

The promise of something I hoped would work out.

And later I would understand why that inner voice spoke in the first place.

What fascinates me is that we are rarely given proof in those moments.

Knowing often arrives without evidence.

When I first started doing readings, people came with questions about the future.

Where is this going? When will it happen? Will it work out? Should I stay or leave?

I understood those questions. We want reassurance. We want direction. Sometimes we just want to know.

But there is something underneath the questions. With each conversation, I am shown past the questions themselves, to the soul who is asking — to what is really being sought, even when the person has no idea themselves.

Someone asks about a love relationship, and underneath it may live: am I lovable?

Someone asks about money, and underneath it may live: will I be safe? Will I get to experience the life I desire?

Every question about the future is a question about the self. The soul navigating this life, working through its stories, discovering itself — what concerns us on the surface shows how something deeper is being expressed, how we are creating.

I have watched this for years. And lately, I’m watching something new.

The world is loud right now. Voices shouting to be heard, nerves on edge, fights being fought outward and inward. We are all feeling it.

But underneath the noise, quieter, something else is moving. More and more people are standing — consciously — in a threshold. Stepping away from a life, a belief, a role, a way of being that no longer feels true. And standing in the middle ground before whatever comes next. Aware of it. Awake in it. More people now than I have ever seen.

Lately, I have been reflecting on how many times life has asked me to let go of who I thought I was.

Not all at once.

In layers.

Sometimes it arrived through loss. Sometimes through endings. Sometimes through the quiet realization that something I had outgrown could no longer carry me forward.

Looking back, I can see how often I wanted certainty.

I wanted to know where I was going.

I wanted reassurance that if I took the next step, everything would work out.

Life rarely offered that.

Instead, it offered invitations.

Invitations to trust what I could not yet see.

Invitations to listen more deeply.

Invitations to release old stories and discover what remained when they fell away.

Many years ago, I found myself in one of those seasons.

From the outside, parts of my life looked intact.

Inside, something was shifting.

The truths I had built my life around were changing. The ways I understood myself were changing. The path ahead was no longer obvious.

I remember how lonely that felt at times.

Not because I was alone.

Because I struggled to find language for...Read More

Mile Markers

Sun, 05 Jul 2026 11:11:20 -0700

Grief is an interesting character, isn’t it?

We often don’t know how to befriend it. Maybe we ignore it. Hide it away. Maybe we manage to sit with it for a moment, but that becomes too much, so we walk away as if we’ve left a bad date sitting at the table.

Over the last five years, I have found a kind of acceptance. Slowly, riding the waves of highs and lows, I have settled into a middle ground. Allowing myself to feel what arises, hold myself through it, and then let it leave.

Deaths can be mile markers in our lives. They become reference points for change, growth, and then more change.

Over these five years, I have moved through many of the emotions of the little girl who wanted something other than what she got. More recently, I came to a deep shift regarding my dad, how I interpreted him, and how I viewed our relationship. In some ways, I set myself free from the confines I had created.

Now, when I think of my dad, I lean more toward the joy. His humor. His caring. His support. I have loosened my grip on the judgments I once carried and allowed myself to see him more fully.

That doesn’t mean I don’t get sad. I do.

The difference is that it is no longer the sadness that comes from an unresolved relationship. It is no longer tied to the things I wished he had said or done, or the things I wished had been different.

Instead, there is a clarity that has settled in. Not just in my mind, but in my heart. In my emotions. In the stories I carried for so long.

As the fifth anniversary of my dad’s...Read More

Walking Without A Map

Sun, 05 Jul 2026 11:08:16 -0700

We speak so often in modern spirituality about “letting go” of the past, as though the human experience is something we can simply throw away like an old receipt.

Release it.
Burn it.
Move on.
Choose higher vibrations.

But life does not move through us that cleanly.

The body remembers.
The nervous system remembers.
The heart remembers.

Some experiences stay with us because they were beautiful. Others stay because they hurt deeply, because they shaped the way we learned to protect ourselves, love others, trust, or survive.

There is wisdom in learning not to live entirely inside the past. But there is also wisdom in acknowledging that we cannot force ourselves into wholeness by pretending our grief, anger, fear, or heartbreak no longer exist.

Healing is not always the act of removing.
Sometimes it is the act of relating differently.

Maybe the invitation is not to erase the past.
Maybe it is to stop abandoning the parts of ourselves that lived through it.

In many spiritual spaces, people are encouraged to “rise above” difficult emotions quickly. Yet emotions that are ignored do not disappear. They often settle deeper into the body, waiting for acknowledgment.

We can spend years trying to become more light-filled while secretly carrying unspoken grief beneath the surface.

Smiling.

Functioning.

Doing the...Read More

The Nearest Door To Ancestral Medicine

Sun, 05 Jul 2026 10:38:21 -0700

Sometimes we search far back for our ancestors.

We imagine we need old names, records, countries, dates, stories, and proof before we can feel connected to the people we come from.

We think the doorway to ancestral connection must be hidden somewhere deep in the past.

And sometimes it is.

But sometimes the nearest door is much closer.

A parent.
A grandparent.
A family story.
A choice someone made.
A hardship someone moved through.
A beginning that became something more.

We may look at our lineage and first see the struggle.

The poverty.
The loss.
The displacement.
The silence.
The survival.
The things no one knew how to speak about.

Those stories matter.

They shaped people.
They shaped families.
They shaped what was carried forward.

But they are not the whole inheritance.

There is also medicine in the line.

There is the medicine of the ones who found a way forward.

The ones who came from little and built something.
The ones who left familiar places and traveled toward uncertain beginnings.
The ones who crossed oceans.
The ones who started over.
The ones who chose a different path than the one handed to them.
The ones who were pressed by life and kept moving.

Sometimes we call this survival.

Where Is It?

Sun, 05 Jul 2026 10:30:23 -0700

I have asked this question in so many ways.

Even after I heard the angelic voice say, there is more to this life, I still found myself looking around and asking, where?

Where is it?

Where is the more?
Where is the life I can feel but cannot yet see?
Where is the path?
Where is the opening?
Where is the proof?
Where is the thing I am supposed to find?

And maybe that is part of being human.

We feel something before we can name it.
We sense a life before we are living it.
We hear the call before we know where it is leading.

So we ask, where is it?

Where is the healing?
Where is the relationship?
Where is the money?
Where is the clarity?
Where is the place I belong?
Where is the version of me I keep sensing but cannot fully reach?

I wonder if we ever fully stop asking.

Maybe the question itself is not the problem.

Maybe it comes down to where we are asking from.

Sometimes where is it comes from fear.

It comes from the part of us that is tired. The part that has waited, hoped, tried, reached, prayed, and still does not see the thing in front of us.

Sometimes it comes from lack.

Where is the support?
Where is the answer?
Where is the life I thought I would have by now?