And Now Here Is the Question…

So…last night the_color_of_nature_by_taitai03I am at the bar with friends and it is someone’s birthday party.

“You must read my friend,” a woman says as she drags a shy woman behind her.  The friend looks at me and smiles.

“Yes, can you read me?” I smile back and tell her to take a seat next to me.  I have already read the middle-aged man to my right, and his new love interest who is sitting next to him.  Every time I looked at him, all I could see was a much younger version in a football uniform.  So strange.

“Ok, the first thing I see is there is a woman with you who would be like a sister, but she is the same height as you, and either is like you in personality or looks like you, but you both have a great relationship.  You keep each other laughing,” I said.  At first when I said sister, she was nodding, but as soon as I started to describing the relationship, she started to look confused.

“Well, I have a sister,” she began, “but we don’t talk.”

“Then this wouldn’t be her,” I said.  “This person loves you, listens to you, and your relationship is good.  Do you have a good girlfriend who is like a sister?”  She shook her head “no”.  “I have a daughter,” she said hesitatingly.

“Maybe it’s her…do you have a “sister” type relationship with her?  She would have to do the mothering and giving advice piece too.  This wouldn’t be the type of relationship that you have a leadership role in.” She was nodding her head “yes”.  I continued her reading and told her about her ex and some other things. I kept wanting to think that she worked in education, but she didn’t.  She worked in a hospital.  Not sure what that was about, but sometimes things just don’t click.

After this woman, I read her daughter and her daughter’s boyfriend and her other young friend. It was fun, and at the end of the night, one of the girls told me I was amazing.  Another woman told me that a had a really special gift and she thanked me for giving her insight into her destructive relationship with a manipulative ex-husband.  Someone else tearfully grabbed me and asked if she was going to be successful in life.  I just hugged her and said I can’t see the future, but I can feel how strong she is inside and I just know that everything can work out for her.  Finally, one woman asked if I could do parties and she would pay me to read her and her friends.

I have always questioned why I have my ability to read and feel others.  Is my gift to help people understand themselves or do I in some way interfere with their path by giving them advice or showing them something about themselves that they can’t see?  When I read people, it feels good. I get chills and I can feel people opening under my understanding as if what they have long locked away is there to be seen.  Maybe I am a tour guide of sorts, a woman behind the information booth of life, just pointing people in a direction, acting as another sign post that leads people inwards.

One of my friends warns me about karma.  She warns that my advice or insights could have disastrous consequences for me and my spiritual path.

Also, is it even ever right to charge people to only show them how they feel?  I am not talking to loved ones who have passed on…I am not telling them their future.  Truthfully, I don’t think you should ever believe anyone who says they can accurately tell the future. I have had a couple of occasions while reading people and I felt like the path they were going to take was still very optional for them.  I also felt like if they did not make the “choice” at that moment that it would show up again at a later date.  I have no way of validating either of these things.  That is just how it felt, but I felt I was being shown a series of possible outcomes that were contingent on the choice the woman I was reading would make at some point.  Very weird.

Any feedback you have for this would be greatly appreciated…especially advice from other Empaths.  I have read so many things where people are crippled by this “gift” and I feel like I am in a healthy spot with it.

Also, if you want to be read, I would love to practice more and receive validation.

Fear and the Empath

 

Image result for pics of mothsI have been thinking about fear a lot lately.  I am in the midst of this romantic relationship with a guy I really like and it has caused me to have a certain level of anxiety.  Where is this going?  Does he like me as much as I like him?  Did a delay in his text message mean that he is no longer into me?  I am trying to work through it.

So today the boys and I are getting ready to go to the beach.  We are in the car, seat belts fastened.  Jonah, my five-year-old, starts screaming.

“What?  What?” I yell back.  He is screaming so much and so loudly I can only assume he is being murdered.

“A bug!  A bug on my whistle!”  He cries.  I bend into the car to see.  My other son Cole points.

“There, Mommy.” He screams, too.  “It’s right on your arm!”  I look down and see a large brown bug, and I start to scream too.  I am not screaming because I am in any real danger.  I am screaming because they are screaming and I am pretty sure one of them was screaming about it being a spider.

“Ok, everyone out of the car!” I yell as I dance around, shaking my arms and legs and dragging Jonah out of his car seat.  He is still screaming and crying and as soon as his feet hit the ground, he is running far away from the car.  Cole is a bit braver and he is trying to help me locate it so he can kill it.  He has already removed his flip flop and is poised to smack it to death.

“Ok, Mom.  Get back.  I will look for it,” he says.  My brave protector.

I back up from the door and I see it.  A large brown moth is clinging to the side of the door.

“Oh,” I said softly.  “It’s just a moth.”

“A moth?” Cole says as he leans in.  “Where?”  I point to the side of the door and I scoop the moth up with one hand and push it outside.  It flies away.

“Jonah,” I yell.  “It’s ok. It’s just a moth.  You can come down now.”  Jonah shows up a few minutes later with his blanket clutched in his hands and his eyes red and teary.

“What was it, Mommy?  A spider?”

“No, baby, it was just a moth.”  This information does not seem to make him feel any better.

“Did you kill it?”  He asked pushing his hand against his mouth.

“No, we didn’t kill it.  It was more afraid of us than we are of him.”  He didn’t seem to agree, but he climbed into the car anyway and let me put his seat belt on.

“How do you know, Mommy?”

“How do I know what, Jonah?”

“If the moth was more afraid of us…I was pretty afraid.”

I wanted to tell him that we don’t really know.  Maybe it’s just something we tell ourselves so that we won’t be as afraid the next time.  Perhaps it’s easier to digest than the possibility that the moth really didn’t give a shit either way and we were running around and screaming like a serial killer had just entered our midst.  The idea that our feeling of safety was so disrupted by a small bug landing on our laps is more laughable than anything. It makes me realize that much of the fear I have felt over the last few months is being created by something that is tiny and more afraid of me than I am of it. Perhaps it is faith in the idea that my fear is predicated on what I imagine it is as opposed to what it really is.  And maybe this is what is causing the problem.

I can only assume he won’t be able to understand much of this, so I just smile at him and say that big moth had a look of terror on his face like he wouldn’t believe as I scooted it out of the car.  Cole gave me a face that said, “Mom” as a way of showing me that he knows I am total bullshit, but Jonah just nods.

And the danger is averted.  Once again peace is restored and our fear subsides.  If only it could always be this easy…

 

The Empath & The Narcissist

 

I never thought it would happen to me, but I was completely sucked into a relationship with a narcissist. Apparently, this is pretty common.  Empaths can feel how great a narcissist thinks he is and is lured into the falseness like a moth to a flame.

Come into my parlor, said the spider to the fly… how I wish I had listened to that cautionary tale or even the myriad of signs the Universe gave me almost every day.  If my own gut telling me that I felt his guilt, his disinterest, his own self-importance was not enough, then what else really mattered?

One day we were walking in the cold and he re-wrapped his scarf around his neck, and one the scarf was an image of a snake.  It was a soccer team’s emblem and it sat beneath his chin and moved slightly every time he spoke.  My gut told me that was a sign.  My head told me that I was putting too much stake into something silly.

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I would say, “I love you.”  He would say, “I love you, too,” and it never felt real.  It never felt true.  He was also on his cell phone, texting, snap chatting, tweeting…always there were messages from woman…always telling me some story that revolved around a female friend.  Still was communicating with his ex, secretly…would only check his phone after I walked away…was always disappearing…using the bathroom more times than a pregnant woman…telling me I was stuck with him forever, but hearing the falseness in his voice…he rarely introduced me as his girlfriend.

Story after story about how great he is and was…sending me pictures of himself constantly…never asking about my day or how I was doing.  If I sent him a message about something bad that was happening, he would either not respond or respond with an “I’m sorry, babe” or “Get over it.”  I allowed all of this because of a cute face and some nice words and thoughts that he would sprinkle over me at various times.

I broke up with him three weeks ago.  As of yesterday, he is still trying to evoke an emotional reaction from me by telling me how much he misses me.  He left a card on my car just to let me know once again why it is good that it is over between us.

Now he tells me that he just felt he could never do anything right.  He feels that he was just wasn’t enough for me and that no matter how hard he tried, he just couldn’t make me happy.

My fear is that I will let this happen again.  I fear that I will ignore my instincts again and leave my self-worth and self-esteem on the sidelines.  I gave in so quickly, wanting to believe that I had found true love. I only found a guy who was looking for something better the entire time.  I could feel that on him, too. I just didn’t want to believe it.

Characteristics of a Narcissist:

1) No Empathy

These people truly don’t have the capacity for empathy. They do not have the ability to authentically embrace the experiential world of another person unless for selfish gain. In other words, these people can put on a good “caring” show in their effort to manipulate others for their own personal benefit. But they won’t and can’t stand in the shoes of another, genuinely.

2) No Remorse

These people don’t feel bad about any wrongdoing of theirs. Why? There is no conscience, no compassion, no concern about the impact of their behavior on others, even those they love. From the narcissistic abuser’s point of view, the other person deserves what they got because the narcissistic abuser is…

3) Entitled

These people hold rights—in their perverted thinking—that others would never assume. They live in a world in which they have privilege to that which is beyond your imagination. Whether they are objectifying you, raping you or ruling your life, they believe that they deserve what they seek, when and where they seek it because it is already theirs—before the ask.

4) Deceptive

They will tell you whatever they believe you need to know in order to get what they are attempting to extract from you. To these people, a lie is not a lie; it’s a mechanism to leverage outcome. A misrepresentation of information is the twisting of facts designed to convert another into compliance with respect to that which they pursue.

5) Dr. Jekyll/Mr. Hyde

These people will project a persona that is 180 degrees from who and what they really are. Whether priest, doctor or politician, they are not as they wish to have you believe. For example, they can be an attorney allegedly protecting an elderly woman from financial exploitation; all while emotionally manipulating/exploiting her, by using her as a flying monkey/agent in a mission to influence the behavior of her daughter.

6) Emotionally Dependent

These people require the emotional support and admiration of their narcissistic supply as oxygen to sustain them. They truly cannot function naturally and normally without the object of their narcissistic abuse serving as the foundation for their existence.

7) Uses Battering for Control

And when their narcissistic supply is in question, battering becomes the way to level the playing field. It is their means to shift the power and control within the relationship. It’s their way to tip the scale, so they gain the advantage they need to feel on top again.

This battering may present as verbal abuse, emotional abuse, financial abuse, sexual abuse or physical abuse. It’s the striking/maneuvering intended to diminish and dis-empower so as to nourish the deficiency in oneself.

If these signs are familiar to you, don’t sweep them under the carpet because the elephant they become can trip you up…big time…when you ignore them. For more information on narcissistic abuse dynamics, visit http://www.enddomesticabuse.org/narcissistic_abuse.php and claim Free Instant Access to The 7 Realities of Verbal Abuse. Dr. Jeanne King, Ph.D. helps individuals and couples worldwide recognize, end and heal from domestic abuse.

 

Losing It

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A strand of thin brown hair falls into the crease of my elbow

I brush it away

Another lands softly on the table and sticks

 

Sign of stress

Sign of aging

 

My hair is everywhere, my friend says. But her locks are thick and long

and mine are sparse

 

Just relax, I tell myself as I seek to do everything…perfectly…to prove

No jello streaks on the kitchen floor

Blanket straight on the back of the chair

Vacuum in the single closet

prove, move, fix

 

Little boys happy

Toys stashed in proper places

 

A long strand ends up in my mouth

The average person loses 125 strands of hair a day

 

46 47 48

 

Trichotillomania- the obsessive habit of pulling out your own hair

 

Another strand falls and I have to believe that is is number 126

So beyond the legal limit

 

I fall to the floor with it

My fingers searching to clean it up before anyone sees

my imperfection in brown

on a white tiled floor

curled slightly at the end

twisting up towards the ceiling

 

I pinch it between my two fingers

carry it over to the sink

and wash it down the drain

The Middle of Summer

I stopped writing.  It has been a long time.  I feel rusty.  I feel as if I have just emerged from a very long and tumultuous slumber: the tin man stretching his fingers, pierced lips begging for an oil can.

My reasons for writing are so selfish.  I just need to express my emotions, my turmoil as I try and work my way through my romantic relationships.  How does an Empath love?  When she can feel the undercurrents of doubt in another?  Women, in general, over-analyze.  “Stop over-thinking,” my girlfriends say as I lament my latest sorrows.  How do I separate an active mind from the passions and fears of my heart?  How does one become vulnerable to love when it has already come with so much pain in the past?  It feels impossible.

I feel the fleetingness of love.  And then there is the deep, burrowing love that I feel in people when they speak of their children.  It twists and turns far into their being.  It feels imprinted on the soul.  Is is wrong to want this in my partner?  Is this type of love built over time or is it realized across a crowded room when two eyes meet?

I currently like a man.  I am not in love with him.  He feels afraid to feel anything for me.  He has been hurt in the past.  His first layer is so thick.  Beneath that layer is sadness.  A flowing river of sadness.  Every time I pierce that first layer, he retreats.  He isolates himself.  When he does this retreat, I know what it is.  It makes me sad.  I feel rejected.  Part of me wants to give up.  Take the advice of others and see other other men.  Keep my options open.  Part of me wants to stay and work through this with him and hope for the best. Both cause fear and consternation.  I am not sure what to do…112592_a5614d42

 

A Romantic Entanglement and the Empath

flower-wallpaper14The one really frustrating part of this gift is that I can tell if a person is cheating on her spouse just because she happens to be standing in front of me at the Dunkin Donuts, but I cannot tell if someone I am interested in is interested in me.  To be fair, I don’t think it’s the ability that holds me back, I think it’s my ego.

I have a crush, which is annoying because I am not sure what this significant crush is thinking. Again, I can see a video of a perfect stranger screaming at his son in my head, but I cannot for certain know if one of my guy friends thinks I am attractive. The other frustrating part of this is that I used to really dislike this man.  For the sake of time, I will begin our story and continue it tomorrow.

Here’s how it started…picture it.  A high school library filled with students three years ago…

I sat at a table near the main computer lab situated in the center of the library.  The room was packed with students.  Thirty of my Honors students swarmed around my table and the adjoining areas.  They were working on their research papers, and in true Honors style, they had so many questions.  I was answering some and reprimanding others when I heard a booming male voice, “Women’s rights?”  He yelled.  He waved a paper in the face of a young girl who looked to be in ninth grade.  Her eyes were wide with horror.  She stayed silent but backed away.  “Why would you want to do your paper on women’s rights.” He shook his head and threw the paper on the table in front of him.  “Either way it must be more specific.  Go and pick a better topic than that please.” I stared, incredulous.  When he looked up, our eyes met and I waved my hand.

“Really?” I mouthed, hoping my eyes and gesture conveyed my disgust.  He smiled and shrugged,  Disgusted, I looked away. I was shocked, not only by his blatant disrespect for the topic of women’s rights, but that he would staunchly yell about it across the library as if it were ok.  In addition, the look on the girl’s face stayed with me, even later that day when I was at the lunch table with other people from department.

“I don’t know who it was, but I can’t believe he would say that.  It’s the 21st century and it’s a public school. I know he’s a Social Studies teacher, but I have no idea who.”  My friend Sally walked from behind the wall that separated the two sections of the lunch room. “I know who it is,” she answered.

“Who?” I asked.

“It’s Brewster.  He’s always making sexist comments like that.”

“I don’t know,” I answered.  “What’s that guy look like?”

“Cute,” she answered.  “Brown hair, kind of built.”  I nodded.  For all of my irritation while I was in the library, I could tell he was cute.  His arrogant smiling face showed a guy who was used to getting away with things because of his looks.

“Yep, it sounds like him,” she said.  “I am so sick of his shit. My kids tell me the male chauvinistic shit he spouts off in class all of the time.  Someone should really talk to him.  He needs to know that the stuff he’s saying is not ok.  I was at an in-service workshop with him once, and we were working on an exercise where we had difficult and stressful situations.  We had to explain how we would work through money issues with a spouse who was upset that we were working long hours.”

“Oh, yeah,” one of my male colleagues said.  “That was so weird.”

“He said,” she continued, ” I would tell her to shut up and just enjoy m my big fat check.”  There was a hushed silence followed by various comments.  I shook my head.

“Such a dick,” I said. “And so smug, standing there smiling.”  I have never liked arrogant men like this, regardless of what they look like.  Looks have never been something I’ve focused on.

“That’s it,” my friend said suddenly, slamming her hand on the table.  “I’m going to talk to him.”

“What?” I croaked, choking slightly.

“Yeah, I am going to set this guy straight once and for all.” She stood up.  My fried Sally has always been a powerful ally.  An ex softball player, she was always dealing sexist stuff on the field and off.  Her solid, athletic body was poised for a fight.  “Wanna go?”

“No,” I answered as my heart raced.  “I feel like I’ve said enough.”  My heart fell into my stomach.  So many doubts, so many misgivings.  What if this guy wasn’t even Brewster?  And what is he going to think if he is?

Sally gave me no time to plea for some kind of reprieve.  She threw her lunch in the trash and angrily marched down to the Social Studies office.

To be continued…

How to Tell if You’re and Empath

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There are many sites and books on being an Empath.  Went I started my journey to figure out exactly what this is, I found many insights.  Some of them were helpful; many of them were not.  One website actually contained a quiz that I could take that asked questions like, “Do you think of a person and then he/she calls you?” and “Do you get a bad feeling in your stomach and then something terrible happens?”.  These quizzes did not help.  What I am capable of doing/feeling was not really listed or discussed in the blogs and chat rooms, even the helpful ones.  I could not find anyone else who seemed to be able to help me with the ability to “feel through” or “read” a person.  They also did not help me with the largest piece of the puzzle.  Why was I sometimes so right and other times so wrong?  The times I was wrong seemed to trump the times I was right and provide undeniable examples that perhaps this was all in my head.  But then, when I would be at the height of my “yes, this is all in my mind,” something would happen.  I would be in a situation where I was so insanely correct and felt something so deeply that I could not deny that this was real.

The truth is that there is no precise way outside of you to ever truly tell if you are in fact an Empath.  I could give you a list of questions and you can add up the numbers to see if they coincide with someone’s idea of what an Empath is, but the reality is that you must find the answer within yourself.  It is during my quiet meditations that I know that I am what I am.  My many validations prove only that I know something at that moment.  It is the voice that is inside of my soul that tells me that my intuitions are more honed.  This is another reality.  We are all able to do this.  Like any skill set, some of us have more natural ability, but we can all access our intuitive selves and feel others.  We can do this when we begin to believe that we are all one and there are no separations.

So if you still want to know if you are an Empath, here is what I recommend you do:

1) Find a quiet spot that you can call your own. It doesn’t have to be fancy.

2) Make sure there are few outside distractions. (I meditate at night after my two boys are in bed.)

3) Sit with your back straight and your legs crossed in front of you.

4) Allow your mind to wander where it will, but don’t let it take you.  Don’t invest in it.  You may have to process many emotions that have been dormant beneath your protective coating for years.  Let them come to the surface.  Don’t give them a story.  Just feel through them.  Emotions only have power if you give them power.  Greet them like old friends and they cannot have their way with you.

5)  Imagine yourself surrounded by a safe and protective light.

6) Try to do this for 20 minutes everyday.

At some point you will feel it.  Do NOT expect it to come to you right away.  Be patient with yourself.  You will have stuff to wade through.  You will have other people’s stuff to release.  We live in a world that seeks to create noise and distractions so we don’t have to feel.  This is unhealthy.  In time, you will feel it.  There will be a change in you.  Silence creates a space.

7) When you feel that space, ask your question.  There may or may not be an answer.  You will know that it is your soul’s answer if it comes from deep within you.  This is not your mind.  This is the place that feels what others are feeling.  This is the place that has the answers because we are all connected and the light that shines through me shines through you.  If you give yourself over to silence, you will feel it.

Love and Blessings

Some people who have helped me in my journey:

*Elizabeth Harper has been a great resource for me-Sealed with Love is her website

*Suchitra is my teacher and guide here.  Her guided meditations are amazing.  Soul Source is a great site and located in Delaware County, PA.