Embracing the empath

Recently I shared an article on my Facebook from Elephant Journal called, "How to love an empath."  I've blogged about this before, and I think about it all the time.  What it's like to exist as a highly sensitive person (HSP).  How to describe it, and how overloaded my mind and emotions can get.  They are at level ten just about all the time, and while I've lived this way my entire life, there are times when all I want is out.  To be somewhere else for awhile.  I want to crawl out of my body and escape it for awhile.  It took me a long time to realize it's not only okay to be a HSP, but that it actually has a name.  While I appreciate those things, I often long for a break.

I don't let many people in deeply, so if you don't know me well you'd never know.  I am often outgoing and funny and lighthearted on the outside.  This also reminds me of how complex every human must be, and how they must be going through a million things at any given moment, no matter the scale or the depth of their feelings.  Being human is weird and hard and unnatural for everyone, not just me.  I am not alone.

Back to this article.  I posted the link and tagged a couple of my friends who I know exist at this level with me, and one of them, Sarah, responded with this: "It's by far and away not the easiest creature to be, but to experience the highest highs and the deepest depths of being human is something I'd never give up at any cost."  A few days later, her Facebook status read, "Some nights, the swirl of human emotion surrounding me reaches a feverish vibrational pitch and sleep escapes.  Still, I'd rather be turned into the song of the universe than be deaf to it's cadence and somnolent."

I realized that my feelings have been betraying me for some time now when it comes to the accepting of being a HSP.  She appreciates the being she is.  But do I? I constantly struggle with "surrender, accept, allow."  In fact, I'm sure at this point that those are the lessons I am in this life to learn.  Since I'm in a line of warrior archetypes, this is the hardest thing you can ask of me.

Dear Athena before me, how did you do it?

I'm recently experiencing things that are setting off an alarm deep in my subconscious.  I'm not yet accepting.  I can say it, but it's not true.  I'm still fighting all that I am.  When I wake up in the morning and I'm already overwhelmed with my questions of the universe and instantly analyzing every choice in my life that led me to this journey…well, it can be a bit much.  I want to fight it off, get out for awhile.  I start to tell myself how alone I am and how strange this is, and that it's just too much.  I think how much easier it would be to be a being who's thoughts and feelings never ran too deep.  I want out of my gift.  Gift.  Is it a gift?

Is it a blessing or a curse?

What we learn in childhood really does stick.  It can be undone, I do believe that, but boy is it deeply seated.  Maybe I'm truly not over being told in my youth, "you're too sensitive!" Almost as if I was in trouble for it! Long before my family knew better.

The thing is, I just thought I was squared away, and I've recently learned I've still got a lot of work to do.

That's all for now.


Deena Marie

Her name was Athena

There once was a little girl named Athena.
Formed in a star, created in eternity.
She came to live on Earth sometimes, and always found it difficult.
For you see, she simply didn't fit.
She carried too much recycled warrior stardust to pack neatly into human form.
The parts inside were just too big.
Ancestor tapestry of Sylvia Plath, Carl Sagan, Joan of Arc 
seemed at times the perfect, albeit unfortunate, melancholia.
Although lightly pinned together, she is trapped.
A temporary purgatory of constant fighting, forging, blazing,
It is relentless.  She must push through.
Until she returns once more, parts scattering,
releasing, before she becomes something else.
She longs for the day when she'll feel it again,
The freedom of the in between...home.
Where she belongs.
In the sky.
The galaxy's aching poet child can do nothing,
or she can do everything...while she waits.


- Deena Marie  3.11.2013