Dear god, I am out of hospital and no intent to return. Either on my own or with a member of our family!
Insert celebratory music.
Soul connections! Thanks for holding space for all of this stormy stuff.
I’m still in recovery. And frankly, recovery is going to take me a while. My physical system has taken a massive hit and it is time for me to practice what I preach. BIG TIME.
For years I have been banging on about “Self Care” and have written extensively on the “BS of Busy” and the impact living full out has on the body and mind.
But truth be told, I am a “BUSIER”. I have my work schedule, my family schedule, and then I invite consistent ‘shiny, shiny’ interruptions to take me away from what my soul wants.
I am a ‘put other people before me’ kinda chick.
In 2010 during a personal development workshop, it was exceeding made clear to me that I am someone who lets people go ahead of me. A LOT.
During a group process, I was able to see how often I would let people step ahead of me. And I would let them. And I would turn, head hung and actually be okay with it.
Until the facilitator stopped the whole group proceedings and sat in front of me, eye to eye and said, “Do you know how painful it is to watch you continue to put everyone else ahead of you? Where did you learn that your needs are less important than others?”
I couldn’t talk. Tears just trickled down my face. Truth tears. You know those tears? Have you ever had them? You can’t speak because you have been hit in the soul and your soul cries with relief. “Thank you…finally someone saw the truth”.
After that though, my mind came back on line and bumped my soul truth aside. “Oh, I don’t mind putting people ahead of me, because I always know my needs are going to be met”. And, “They need it more than I do”.
I’ve carried this for those years. Not really believing that I allow the needs of others to come before me.
And I am not talking about kids needs. You have kids, then you sign up to meeting their needs. It is part of it. Completely. But not at the consistent expense of ourselves.
Mostly, I am talking about adults. Grown folks.
I am a human helper. That is my life calling, so I am born to help. I know this after 41 years here. I know that in my soul.
But the tragic truth is, I allow myself to be used….to have energy drained without reciprocation or energetic exchange.
I will book a client for an hour, and then get so involved and ‘helperish’ that 2 hours would pass and only be paid for an hour. This happens with helpers. Because it is so natural, I could do it all day long…and love it….but it costs energy. It just does…and mostly because of these superpowers I have.
I am an empath. Or rather, I have empath qualities. And if you aren’t familiar with what that is, find your friendly google definition and explanation or you can check this out ; 31 Signs You’re and Empath.
Or really, as Martha Beck best puts it, I am part of …The Team. Click on the blue to see if you are too!
Just like that time in 2010 when I was told the truth, I have tried to avoid it, justifying it away and making excuses for this superpower and disowning it, mostly because it is so ‘woo-woo’ and those of you who know me or have followed my writing know I hate being put in boxes and labeled.
But it is true.
I am incredibly sensitive to energy. I am incredibly intuitive. I sense stuff that I find difficult to know where it comes from about other people. I just ‘know’ stuff. I can feel stuff. And I have had this gift since I was a child.
The first memory I have was ‘knowing’ there was something ‘not right’ with my mum when I was staying at my Nanna’s place at 5 years old. Back in the day when no one talked about mental illness.
The next big memory I have was when I was 9, staying at my next door neighbours house and she was complaining about her step mother. Her dad was this big friendly bear kind of guy who drove semi trailers for a living. As a truck he was away a bit and my friend was frequently left with her step mum. She was the kind of woman who didn’t have a problem smacking her next door neighbours kids if she felt so inclined as well. Oh the days of smacking huh?
One night as we lay in the bunk beds, her on top and me underneath, she began her usual whinge about Marguritte. I listened as I always did, but this time I said, “Well, at least you know she is your step mum. I am pretty sure my dad isn’t my real dad. Even though they all tell me he is”.
His name was on my birth certificate. I shared his last name. I called him dad. No one had said anything to me about him not being my dad, but this was something I just ‘knew’.
Of course my friend thought I was crazy and laughed and jibed me enough for me to realise that maybe it isn’t safe to just ‘know’ stuff.
It wasn’t until I was 13 that my mum finally admitted that the person I had been raised to call dad, wan’t my biological dad. And when she told me that night, my reply was, “well I knew that”.
This kind of thing happens all the time when I have conversations with folks, when I am working with clients, when I run retreats. It is a sense. I feeling and sometimes an image or a metaphor to describe what I am feeling.
For the longest time, I have tried to think my way around stuff, to find the explanations for some of the ‘knowing’ and what I have since come to see, is that truth has this way of meeting people. And those people will know if it is true for them or not. My only job is to be available for the ‘knowing’.
Since all this physical stuff has gone down in our house, I have come to see so much. I see how much I used metaphysics and law of attraction to create a self blame culture for myself. One that seeks to see what I have done wrong so that I might ‘fix’ it with affirmations, mediations and unblocking of sorts.
The truth is, for me that there was never anything that needed to be fixed. There was never anything to ‘sort out’ or ‘understand’. There was only opportunity to see what and where I wanted to reject myself. And instead, have an opportunity to deliver unconditional love and acceptance. Of all of it.
I know that this is ‘out there’ and yes, completely of the ‘woo woo’ variety. But actually, it isn’t to me.
It never has been and yet, in an attempt to be accepted, to be liked, to belong I have dulled down what I have always ‘known’.
It is time now.
Time to start really being honest. Truthful. And trusting.
It is time to start really living from this place of self gentleness and acceptance. That includes all the whacky and the woo. Without exception. Without being shamed. Without the need to justify and dull.
It is time.
Isn’t it time that you, like me, started to see your own truth. Not the subscription of truth that you have been taught or have come to believe on order to fit in and be liked?
Well, you’ll know if it is time for you. And in the meantime, know that none of this human experience is wasted. None of it.
Believe what feels true to you and drop kick the rest.
Biggest love and support my fellow human helper.