On Being Sensitive
“All trees are not good trees,” she said as she leaned over, placed her hand over my arm and smiled with that knowing smile that she was right and I, because I dare to care about all trees, was wrong. It wasn’t the first time I was put in my place because I am sensitive to life.
My first memory of being ‘put down’ for being sensitive was when I was a child. My dad and I were watching a movie on television where an old man had saved, at great hardship, to purchase a piece of glass for the window in his cabin. After he bought it and installed it, his mule kicked a bucket through the window. I cried and my dad laughed at me for crying. That’s my first memory of feeling compassion and being pushed out of the tribe.
Those of us who are sensitive live in a world where we are put down, outcast, made to feel less than, called names and in general judged to be stupid or simply wrong. And because we are sensitive as part of our very nature, we sometimes feel completely out of step with the rest of the world. I know many of you are keenly aware of this truth.
It is a painful life we live until we become strong enough to recognize the bullies for what they are, until we come to value our beautiful sensitivity and champion ourselves…and even then we can get stung and so begins the process of healing that deep wound again….and again.
Because we receive negative feedback so often about our deepest, truest selves, we have difficulty believing that we are whole and beautiful. If the world mirrors back to us that empaths are silly, flakey, ridiculous then how do we believe the truth about ourselves? How do we learn to trust ourselves? How do we claim our space in the world?
Clarissa Pinkola Estes says, in her series Mother Night, that people who feel, that are sensitives, are pushed to the edge, are outcast…these people who are the artists, the creatives, the healers with their open hearts and minds…they are pushed to the fringes of society. But when this happens, she warns, the culture dies because they are not allowed to do their work, for their work is nourishment for the psyche.
I was having a rough day and asked for guidance. When I arrived home from cycling I put the sound files on my phone on random play and Clarissa’s series was what came to me…as a big answer. Listening to her reminded me that my empathic ability is my gift. My ability to feel deeply is a gift…to the world. How many of us can breathe that statement in? Try it… My ability to feel deeply is a gift to the world.
Besides the fact that we are outcast and have to deal with that our entire lives, we are keenly aware of the seemingly multitude of beings crying out in pain these days….children, families, animals, wildlife, wild places and yes, even trees. So how do we cope with this two-edged sword of empathy, of sensitivity?
I would suggest not trying to fit in to a world that tries to consistently push us out. So you want to push us out, okay. I will walk along the fringe…I will dance along the fringe and I will find those who will dance with me. I will connect with my sisters and brothers who also bear the scars of feeling in an unfeeling world. Clarissa calls us Scar Clan of the Tribe of the Sacred Heart. We recognize each other by our ability to feel deeply, love deeply and we have the audacity to care deeply.
And then I would suggest spending time to connect with our feelings of love and compassion and to do so without shame. We were taught to be ashamed of our compassion and kindness so let us un-teach that to ourselves and simply sit in stillness and silence with acceptance for ourselves….our beautiful, bright selves.
And lastly, I would suggest allowing the beautiful feelings to be expressed through the creativity we bring to the world….writing, photographing, painting, dancing, singing, speaking, connecting with Nature. What do we love? What do we feel such burning compassion and kindness toward? What are we waiting for my loves?
For a while now I’ve wanted to stop watching television. I didn’t watch much the last several years but had streaming channels that offered just enough drivel to keep me hooked into mindless vegetative bingeing on occasion.
Claire Dubois speaks of the Age of Restoration beginning now. As we turn our creative envisioning from focusing on everything that is falling apart to how we wish to see the world, we began to create the world we want.
Last night a friend came over for a time of drumming. We spoke about issues that we wished to send healing energy to, called in angels, ancestors and other helping spirits and acknowledged the gateways of the six directions. Spontaneously, the issue that seemed to call us both was the children and families held in detention centers.
Usually the room fills with ancestors, animal spirits and angels and it was the same with one exception. The room filled with children last night. As we prayed with our drums and open hearts a dam broke within both of us as we wept for children and families held in for-profit detention centers. Then we shared visions of children being loved and held by grandmother and grandfather spirits, loved by gentle animals.
As we continued to drum we sang, “Jesus loves the little children….all the children of the world…red and yellow, black and white, they are precious in his sight….Jesus loves the little children of the world.” Tears continued to flow and we continued to build a vision of love and compassion for all those suffering in separation from loved ones and risking everything to escape war, famine, violence, persecution.
The energy of love and compassion filled the room as we envisioned children being cared for, reunited with families….on and on we build a vision of restoring families, of politicians stepping up to take right action, of light illuminating the for-profit detention center goals….light, light, light, light, light.
What if each of us longing for a better world took the time to actually envision it rather than keep envisioning a world that is falling apart. We know the old paradigm is falling apart. Now let us plant the seeds of the world we wish to create.
There is an incredible amount of light flooding the planet these days. That’s why the old paradigm is crumbling—the old ways are falling. Let us remember that the light is here for us to heal as well…and to open and to grow beyond our wildest dreams. It is a catalyst not only for the breaking down but for the re-building. What is it you wish to create, to become? What kind of world do you want?
It wasn’t the most peaceful meditation. It was more of a journey into the reality of what is happening not just in my life but with all of us. The old paradigm is crumbling and the process is scary and filled with danger. We even turn on others we care about in the process of dismantling the old way of living.
I came to a box of books on the Ocean, whales and dolphins…some of my most precious books. When I started looking at them I stopped and hugged the box to me and wept deeply for my cetacean brothers and sisters and our beautiful seas and all life that hangs in a very precarious place. I allowed myself to feel the grief and be with feelings of great sadness.
What a strange time to be alive. We are watching the old paradigm be challenged every day and it rears up and shows its abusive self…but we are collectively taking it down….piece by piece.
It’s a time of intense emotions and fears and great anger at what is being done to innocent children and wildlife and wild places. Ultimately compassion and kindness and a deep, fierce love and devotion is what is needed. The kind of love that stands up and says…NO MORE! We are experiencing the old paradigm die within ourselves and in the world around us.
Stay hydrated, rest, take time to be still and quiet, eat well, talk to friends who understand, talk to a life/spiritual coach, be outdoors, get a massage, take a salt bath. Take loving care for you are birthing a new world from within yourself.
A Mary Oliver poem recently reminded me of my inner child’s love of rushing water. I was going to write about it and then let it slide until I saw the same poem again, posted on a social media post. My cue to explore this reminder cannot be ignored.
“What can I say that I have not said before? So I’ll say it again. The leaf has a song in it.” She then reminds us through her poem to take our busy hearts to the forest. “The song you heard singing in the leaf when you were a child is singing still.”
So after a couple years in the second Saturn return, I find myself anxiously and longingly anticipating the return to those mountains to live. Saturn returns are generally ages 27-31, 56-60 and 84-90. The first is when a person leaves youth behind, the second is coming into maturity and the third is the final one when a person enters ‘wise’ old age.
Saturn return….just the thought of it can make some cringe. Western astrologers think of these times as major thresholds before moving into the next phase of life. It can mark major upheavals and major life-changes. But some of the greatest leaps and transformations come from the most challenging times.
What I’m finding during this rather intense ‘return’ is a greater call to listen to my heart and be true to the path that calls me…the deeper spiritual path. I am more conscious of clearing the energetic gunk that comes through technology so I’ve recently stopped streaming television, the last bit of TV I allowed into my home. I’m also aware of the negative energy in politics and social media and am limiting my time with both. Fears are intense during this time so I’m working very hard to listen but to not allow them to control me. Mostly I am evaluating my work…although I just typed ‘worth’ which I thought was a mistake….obviously the truth came through my fingers. So yes, I’m evaluating my self-worth, too.
What gifts did I bring with me to this life and what others have I developed since incarnating. Mostly I want to let go of things that no longer serve me. I am going through every box I packed almost a year ago and am evaluating the contents as a way to let go of more ‘stuff’ both physically and symbolically. What no longer serves me I happily release.
As the Borg said in Star Trek, “Resistance is futile.” The more we fight it, the harder we make it for ourselves. So here, Universe. Take this and this….and this, too. Oh, no…I didn’t want to keep that. Please, by all means, take that too…I say with a bit of sarcasm.
A David Wilcox song comes to mind… “This is where I played as a baby, this is where I ran as a child. This is where my dad took the last breath he had and smiled….I guess I’m wondering where this place is trying to take me, overnight, if I never did resist. What strange breezes make a sailor want to come to this. With lines untied, slipping though my fist.”
Nearly two years ago I shared with a retreat group in Ireland that I was at a Threshold. Never in my wildest dreams would I believe I would still here at the Threshold, awaiting passage. But now I understand it a little more clearly. It’s exactly what’s supposed to be happening. So here I drift with lines slipping through my hands…releasing the fists that want to hold on….and asking the Universe to help me move gracefully to the next place in this life. That magical mountain home as well as my spiritual home within the heart of the planet.
The clear, rushing waters still sing to my heart. They are calling me home.