What ridiculousness to be awake at 130am again. I don’t know whether to scream and rant or go for a walk. The latter perhaps not a wise choice. Instead a warm milky chai. And perhaps if I blog I might clear my head. Yet strangely my head is not full of clear thoughts keeping me awake. Instead it is rather an annoying white noise. The buzzing in my ears is strong. Perhaps because they are still a little blocked from last weeks flight. Perhaps it is information being downloaded. Many thoughts surround what this means.
I’ve written at times on living as an empath. Perhaps it is time to explore more deeply. The more I have read, the more it all makes sense. For once in my life. What I am noticing however is that the more conscious I become the more aware I become of what is happening within my body systems. The feelings and sensations. The thoughts. Like fine tuning the radio dial it becomes clearer. Do I really want to do this? I contemplate and reflect a minute. Yes. For in doing so I can finally learn to distinguish what is me and what is not.
Confusion for so much of my life. Wondering who I really am. Where all these thoughts and feelings come from. Most doesn’t make sense. I analyse. Over-analyse. Have been told I think too much. Read too much into things and words people say or write in text. I understand now why. The lack of clarity. The discordance between words and behaviours and the feelings I get. Saying one thing and meaning another. Sometimes I wish I was not like this. Perhaps life would be easier. But maybe life would also be rather dull. For feelings and emotions bring colour and life. Music and laughter. Pleasure and pain. Everything that life is about.
I feel I could write a book. The words falling rapidly from my head to my fingers as i tap away on my iPad. I’m craving sleep. Quiet and peace. Despite being alone. And perhaps because this year I have spent more time alone things are becoming clearer. My radio dial tuning in to more that is out there.
So what is this like? Big sighs. Easiest best to describe situations. Like driving through the country side. Feeling an overwhelming sadness. Not despair. But grief and loss. I checked the time this occurred. Asked my self if this was me. Got a ‘no’. And sometimes I get very strong replies. This was definitely a ‘no’. For there was no reason for me to feel this way. I let my mind drift as I drove. Ran through people I knew. Searching to find a ‘hit’ and I got one. He stayed in my mind. And it made sense. Knowing that it wasn’t me I literally shook off the feelings. Sent them to mother earth with love. Purposefully and directly. I do not want to let feelings just go wherever. For our thoughts and feelings are energy. And energy travels.
A few days later I was talking to him online. I asked when the funeral was of his best friends wife who had just passed from cancer. Young. Too young to leave her husband and children. The funeral had been that morning. He was a pall bearer. That afternoon and evening they were rapidly drinking themselves into oblivion. Totally bereft at her loss. I had tuned into him. Two states away.
A week later I was driving to work. About to enter the tunnel. Listening to my music I had the urge to turn up the volume and I did. But the waves of anger and frustration overtook me. A moment of WTF? I cranked up the volume wanting to drown it all out. Looking around me the cars traveling beside me. Tho I cannot say for sure, when I think back now I still have the sense of a black car beside me. To outwards appearances there was nothing untoward. But I registered this fact. Realised what was happening. Turned down the volume. Acknowledged the emotions and again literally shook them off. By the time I hit the tunnel the feeling was gone.
How many times during my life have I felt sudden, unexplicable strong emotions. I have lost count. It is a common daily occurrence. I guess I have been so used to it all my life. I have blocked and built walls to lessen the energy. But my walls are now down. I like my music loud. To drown out others thoughts.
I had never really thought about telepathy. And here I might sound like a weirdo. But then I admit to being weird and warped. Strangely I have always felt we can communicate telepathically. It’s frustrated me that we can’t. Or supposedly can’t. In a way I am more comfortable with being silent than talking. Tho I manage to do enough of the latter for more than my share. And now I recall a comment made during a meditation group last year. That soon I would be able to do what I always knew I could. Hmm perhaps now is the beginning of this. Or rather the awakening awareness.
Two nights ago I could not sleep. The voice in my mind was loud, persistent, incessant. ‘I hate my life’ … over and over again. When I registered this I froze. Listening. This was not me. Not my voice. For my voice sounds different in my mind. And most certainly I do not hate my life. The feelings were frustration and pain. Again not where I am at in this point in my life. But when I stopped and listened, it was a male voice. I acknowledged this and let it go. Shaking it off. Again to earth with love.
It is so much easier to send love now. For so long I couldn’t. I recall an episode years ago. A boss I did not like. The feeling mutual. She made our lives a nightmare. We bought into it. Creating bigger dramas. She left and we had peace. For a while til she returned. What on earth had I not learnt the first time I asked. For I knew she was there with a lesson for me. I had to learn to send her love. To ignore the animosity and rage radiating off her. In a way I could understand her. Felt sorry for her. Not in a pitying way. But I let myself get caught up in the game play of others. And learnt a lesson there too.
I have been blessed having a few mentors and guides over the years. Older and wiser women who helped me open the doors to who I really am. In a way I owe them my sanity. My lesson was to send love. Wrapping this woman I detested, who caused me to panic and created such anxiety, up in a bubble. Filling the bubble, slowly, with pink. I do not recall being able to fill up the bubble completely but something inside me says I did. For that was when she left again. For good. Sadly her life is even more unhappy. But it is her choice. We only have our selves to account for how we react and respond to the challenges life presents us.
I always recall my parents telling me that God never gives us more than we can handle. And tho we might not think that’s the case, it has been a comfort to me. In fact, much of my parents teaching through life has given me comfort and hope. To this day they remain committed with a deep and loving belief of God and Christ. Tho my beliefs have changed over the years, I am forever thankful for their words of wisdom and love. And though for many years I turned an ear deaf, now I have the opportunity to fully appreciate them, whilst they are still with us. And that is indeed a blessing.
I could go on forever retelling here. But I sense now this is coming to a close. The rest left for another time. I have written, let it all out, put it to print and perhaps now I can sleep a few hours. What I am very conscious of now is the feelings I get from those around me. Frustration, tiredness, peace, love and joy and every other possible strong emotion.
I remember two weeks ago suddenly feeling incredibly tired at work after lunch. But it didn’t feel like me. I wandered into my colleagues office and plopped on his couch complaining of how I wanted to sleep. Stillness surrounded me. I looked at him. Asked him if he was tired. He had a nasty cold. Dropping his head to his hands he told me he was incredibly tired. I smiled and grinned. Felt energy surging back through me and jumped up. ‘Hah! It’s you I’m sensing.’ I laughed. Walked over and put my hands on his shoulders and head. Sending him energy. Of course he had to ask almost immediately ‘are you done yet?’ Like the child who asks ‘are we there yet?’ A lesson learnt here that not everyone who says they want help actually do. But I bounced out and shook off his tiredness to mother earth. I did not want to return it to him.
Tiredness is falling. I can now try for more sleep. This is my life. Being empathic is both a pleasure and a pain. Sifting through emotions and feelings. Thoughts and reactions. Physical aches and pains. How much have I carried over the years that was not mine.
Now living alone I realise that most was not mine. I am learning to distinguish between mine and others. I am learning to ask, be still and listen. For the answer always comes. Then I know what I can do with it. And if it is someone close by, at hand that I know, I can put my hands on them. Let the energy flow. Draw it into and through me. And yes diminish their pain. And send to mother earth. If they are at a distance I can do the same. For all thoughts are energy waves traveling through space and time. No longer will I hold another’s pain. It is not mine and it does me no good. But the other side of my empathic nature is the ability to help those around me. When I can. And when they will. It is not always wanted or required. But it is there if they choose. If I choose.