Life After Death

I know what miracles are. I know because I see them happen every day—and because some of them happen to me. I guess you could say that I’m proof, or my life is proof, or, for that matter, my very existence, is proof. There have been so many miracles in my life that choosing just one to write about and calling it the “biggest” would be like loving one of my children more than the other.

I loved my husband, Randy Michael Connolly, until death did us part. So much so that it felt as if I’d died with him. By the time December 2013 rolled around, I’d been praying for my own death for a little over a year, although I still hadn’t conjured the nerve to take my own life, and realized I might never find that nerve, no matter how devastated I was. The only thing that could possibly keep me going, I determined, was a miracle.

I wanted, I needed, some kind of concrete, measurable evidence that he was still with me, just as he’d promised he’d be as he was dying.

Night after night of crying myself to sleep had mitigated neither my desperation nor my depression. Nor had knowing that there were people around me who were hearing Randy, in spirit form, clearly and irrefutably. Sure, I appreciated their loving messages, as indirect as they were. But what about me? I was his wife, dammit. Didn’t I deserve to hear those messages straight from the source?

Then, one night, a night like all the rest where I’d passed out after hours of tossing and turning and abject anguish (I don’t profess to be one of the stoic ones), I was awakened at 3 am by a loud—booming—voice that said, “Get out your pen and get writing. We’re going to write a book.”

I can’t tell you why and I can’t tell you how, but I knew in every cell of my being that this disembodied vocalization belonged to my husband (and not only because I was alone in the house). What I did not realize was that the result of this mandate, and the ensuing half hour of notebook scribblings, would be the basis for our first “ghostwritten” book together, Crossing the Rubicon: Love Poems Past the Point of No Return.

You might think I’m going to say the miracle was that Randy, in spirit form, woke me up and downloaded a book of poems, along with an almost instant comprehension and precisely worded description about how to form a new relationship with your loved one after death, and how to write about it so others would understand and benefit.

You might think it was that since that night I’ve been able to communicate with Randy, and the dead brother of manicurist, and the dead wife of my father’s best friend, and many other spirit beings who so much want to communicate with their own loved ones.

Either way, you’d be right.

But, honestly? The most profound and shocking miracle is that without the gift of Randy’s dying, I would never have discovered, or perhaps I should say uncovered, the brilliant conscious creation practice that has become my way of life.

A celestial life.

Is it possible to recognize a miracle—a blessing, even—while you feel you’re being ripped to shreds? When your soul can’t see the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel even if it were wrapped in the glow of every star in the sky? When your heart is gasping for breath in order to survive one more minute, one more hour, one more day?

My answer?

• BRD–Before Randy’s Death: Absolutely not.
• ARD–After Randy’s Death: Absolutely. Even if you’re in the throes of agony. Because once your anguish has been imbued with conscious awareness, the frequency of unconditional love, the vibration of truth, and the resonance of wisdom, nothing is ever the same again.

For me, on that night, even as I wrote in the dark, sobbing over the pages of an old lined notebook, bleary-eyed from lack of sleep, fear, grief, and the sense that I had been abandoned to fend for myself in a world I could no longer make sense of, I was concomitantly aware that I was feeling something I’d never felt before.

Even in that state of complete overwhelm, I knew I was experiencing something so enormous, so rock-me-to-the-core powerful, that while I couldn’t name it at the time, I could feel it blooming inside me, as evidential as the scar on the inside of my thigh, the one I’d gotten in a motorcycle mishap in high school. It seemed as if I’d always had this thing that was burgeoning—always known it, always felt it—but would never again fail to recognize it and cherish it.

The wave of unconditional love that flowed through me arrived in the form of complete phrases and rhymes and prose: an unabridged conversation. It arose in the vibration of truth, through the voice of my dead husband. It emerged in the resonance of wisdom, as a new kind of knowledge I was being invited to believe in, accept, and share. It emanated with the awareness that, even as I wept and the lead in my pencil dwindled to a stub, I would never be the same again.

Turns out, it’s true.

Because nothing has been the same since that night.

I no longer have any need to pretend that I have it all under control, or that life makes sense. I don’t and it doesn’t. Which is precisely what makes miracles so…miraculous.

I now understand that all our attempts to control, fix, cajole, maneuver, manipulate, push, and pray are nothing more than miracle-blockers. When viewed through the lens of retrospection, miracles are the fruit of faith, not force.

When I met Randy after my first 40 years on the planet, I knew that was a miracle. The circumstances were too bizarre, too completely without precedent. We agreed that we were two of the truly fortunate ones. We’d prayed for a miracle. We’d gotten it. End of story.

Then he died.

Which compelled to ask, What does that say about our supposed miracle? Was I wrong? Were we wrong? Was this some kind of a joke, a faux miracle? Had I been deceived? If God wanted me to be happy, why take away the one person who made me happy?

Could something that once looked like a miracle of light and love turn into something so sinister and dark, something so obviously not miraculous?

I did not know the answer then. But these questions are what goaded me on, deep into realms that I’d never previously tapped. I explored karma, life after “death,” past lives, meditation, and conscious creation. I acquiesced into what has been so aptly called the dark night of the soul. I allowed myself to be held by those who’d had similar experiences and encouraged me to believe that I would come out the other side…whole again.

I eventually learned that my sensitivity was simply code for being an HSP, a Highly Sensitive Person, and medium for the spirit world, and that tapping into that ability would prepare me for becoming a facilitator for other HSPs.

Finally, ultimately, I learned that miracles are in the eye of the beholder, like these:

1. I contracted with Randy and agreed to be his partner in this lifetime to help him learn that someone (me) could and would love him unconditionally—a lesson that allowed him to cross over knowing he’d achieved his spiritual goal.
2. Randy is now helping me learn, from across the veil, that having trust and faith in what you can’t see is the means by which we can influence the energetic force that determines our ongoing lives.
3. Questioning every core belief you once held deepens your understanding that the spirit world is always communicating with us, and that it’s simply up to us to learn how to listen. For me, this has meant having the ability to share such insights with others.

The biggest miracle of all, you ask?

That’s easy.

There is life after death. On both sides of the veil.

* * * *

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The post Death and Grief and the Highly Sensitive Person first appeared on Elevate Your HSP-ness!.

Getting shots has never been my idea of fun.

The past

When I was a little kid, my mother took us to a pediatrician named Dr. Glazer. Dr. Glazer was a brusque, no-nonsense kind of man. I assume he liked kids, being a kid doctor and all, but I was always sort of nervous around him. Sure, I only saw him for things like vaccines or when I was sick, but I never felt a bunch of warm fuzzies from the good doctor. Like I said, he was all business.

Case in point.

By the time came for the shot in the arm, I was already crying. Dr. Glazer and my mom muttered a few “Come on, now, it’s not that bad” and “It’ll be over before you know it” to placate me, but then things took a turn. Dr. Glazer, with a needle that seemed as long as his arm and raised above his head, would wheel his way from the counter to the examining table.  When he reached my side and took hold of my arm, my heart beat so fast I’d feel faint. And this is when he’d say, “I’m going to give you a little jab now, but you tell me when to stop, okay?”

A couple of seconds later, my eyes closed, I’d be crying, “Stop…stop, please stop” to see he had already removed the needle and was readying my arm to receive a Barbie Band-Aid and a lollipop. (It’s not like he was a dentist or anything. Although now, looking back on it, I sort of think doctors and dentists might be in cahoots like that.)

Anyway, the point is that there were several seconds—very, very long seconds—where I was sure that needle was still in my arm and panicking. Talk about trauma.

I’m willing to concede that Dr. Glazer probably used this little trick on all his small patients. And maybe it worked wonder with some of us with a fear of needles, though I don’t see how. I also understand how reverse psychology can work the same kind of wonder with some behavior trends. Again, though, not so much with me.

Why?

• Fear of the unknown.
• Fear of the known.
• Fear of the pain.
• Fear there might be pain.
• Fear that something that is sure to be painful will last a lot longer than you’ll be able to handle.

Need I go on?

The present

Today, being of a certain age, and having received quite a few shots in my time, I was not especially looking forward to the two vaccines I needed. In fact, as soon as I sat down in the chair and the technician started preparing her paraphernalia (I don’t even like saying the word “needle”), I closed my eyes and thought, Sometimes I wish I weren’t so darn sensitive.

The event

But then . . .

Guess what happened? I kind of Zenned out. I pulled in my little Psychic Octopus and told myself it would be over in seconds and I’d forget all about it. That I was grateful for the ability to receive the shot. That whatever it was in the shot would keep me healthy and that I was accepting it willingly and with loving intention.

And by the time I’d completed my little ritual of gratitude and self-awareness, the ordeal–the shot–really was over and the technician was placing a bright red Band-Aid on my arm. (No, no Barbie Band-Aids this time—which is fine because I’d never played with Barbie dolls anyway. I did note the box of min-Tootsie Roll Pops in the corner, but stifled my feeling of deservedness post-shot.)

What my HSP-ness has taught me to do

As an HSP, over time, and with the tools I’ve developed, I’ve learned to “unanticipate” certain events. Instead of spending my time and energy wishing I didn’t have to do something, anticipating how difficult or horrible or challenging or disturbing or sad or uncomfortable or painful an event might be, I think about other things. I remind myself that “this time tomorrow it’ll all be over” and “I’d rather be thinking about other things I like to think about.”

I don’t really know for sure whether the energies I’d pick up in the past were from other people in the environment, like doctors, nurses, other patients, my mother, etc., or were of my own projection, but being inside my own energy is such a relief.

My prescription? The HSP Prescription: Take One Dose of the HSP Toolbox Daily

Take one capsule of Psychic Octopus, one capsule of Being in Your Own Unique Alignment, and one capsule of Self-Love daily for symptoms—and celebration– of your HSP-ness.

The post The HSP Prescription: Take One Dose of the HSP Toolbox Daily first appeared on Elevate Your HSP-ness!.

In Part 1 of HSPs & The Magic Pill, I talked about the way HSP-ism interacts with and is interlaced with symptoms, labeling of those symptoms, and diagnoses of those symptoms when you are an HSP. I talked about how much I yearned for a “magic pill” that would change my life.

Again, I do not advocate for nor am I against the use of medication for any purpose prescribed by your medical professional. What I present here is simply another way to interpret some of the symptoms–psychological, chemical, mental, emotional, and physical, you may be experiencing as a high-sensitive person. Like me.

Are you living in the label you’ve been giving?

In Part 1, you read about how I began taking Prozac against my husband’s wishes and fully immersed in my own shame that I “needed it.” I don’t think that shame has ever completely gone away. Needing something implies a weakness, and being weak is bad, right? That’s what I thought.

The incredible thing was that within days I was getting out of bed in the morning for the first time in my life that I could recall with actual enthusiasm. Gone was the “Omigod, another day, groan” thing. GONE. I couldn’t believe that this tiny pill called Prozac could make such a difference in my experience. The cloud of shame under which I lived had to stay buried in order to allow this new me to shine. Because I kept the fact that I was “on an anti-depression medication” under wraps, eventually Randy stopped asking me about it; we silently agreed to not speak about it, pretend it didn’t exist. The shame didn’t go away, but I gave up trying to make it go away.

Life changes in ways you cannot possibly expect

And now it’s 2012 and Randy is dying. Over the almost two decades we’d been together, I’d been on and off meds periodically, but  mostly off. I really wanted to “make it on my own” without the help of drugs. I cannot stress how much energy it took to pretend everything was okay. Especially after Randy’s illness began taking a more severe toll and my level of anxiety ramped up and the thought most prevalent in my mind was, “I can’t deal with this. I can’t deal with this.” Over and over it ran, even though I was dealing with it, one painful day at a time.

When the worst happened, all the “what ifs” came to pass, when I was left to scrape myself together, I’m really not sure why I didn’t go back on medication. I can see where it would have helped carve out a space for me to begin to cope. It seems I’d developed a sort of stubborn sense of what was right and what was wrong and what was weak and what was strong—and that no matter how weak I felt, I could not give in.

I don’t share any of this in support of medication or to steer anyone a way from medication. And I do not share my story to whine about the past. My only purpose here is to share how I made the transition from someone who “needed drugs” to someone who doesn’t.

Label, labels, and more labels

I know that my “anxiety disorder” is just another aspect of hyper-sensitivity, but that hyper-sensitivity is just another aspect of being highly intuitive and it’s completely within my power to use that intuition without getting caught up in the energy of it. Now it doesn’t feel like anxiety; it feels like the energy of intuition, curiosity, and inspiration.

I know that my “chronic depression” is just another mislabeling—believing that my intuitive sensitivities  were wrong, bad, and a problem, and that shutting down was the only way to survive. Now I know that when/if I feel the energy, the frequency, of so-called “depression,” it’s really only an energy reminding me to listen, really listen, to whatever message might be coming in. Just because I assign a label to a feeling, an emotional feeling like “depression,” does not mean that’s what it is.

So often, in fact almost always, these kinds of feelings are not what they appear to be. If no label existed, would I still feel the way I feel? Quite possibly. And yet, what if the label were not “you are depressed,” but “you are being guided to listen to your intuition”? How might that change our perception of that energetic experience?

For me, it changed everything and continues to be the way I live my life. Things are not always what they appear to be, even by consensus. “Uncomfortable” is not necessarily bad. What looks like a duck and quacks like a duck is not always a duck.

Consider new options. Learn a new way. Give yourself a break. Think differently. Wonder. Be curious. Open to the possibilities.

You won’t regret it.

The post Are you still looking for a magic pill to change your life? first appeared on Elevate Your HSP-ness!.

How do you become who you are? I’ve asked myself this question many times through the years, mostly because I’m so surprised at where I keep “ending up.” Especially since we all know that there is no “ending” until . . . well, there is.

No matter the length of the retrospective, it can be illuminating as a catalyst in moving forward. From the perspective of where I am now, I can understand a lot about how I got here. I grew up in an atmosphere of education and learning, equaled only by the ever-present churning inside me to comprehend the universe in a way that made sense. What a paradox it was! How do you live your life as a human when you feel like an alien species deposited in a strange land? When you’re sure you were left only with a wave and a vague suggestion to figure it out for yourself until the time comes for you to depart.

Low-functioning HSP-ism

I stumbled along. Sometimes severely low-functioning; often appearing high-functioning . . . the consummate HSP. That Highly Sensitive Person who felt everything 1000 times more than anyone else, could not understand the way the world worked or people behaved, or the way I was supposed to behave in it. A fish permanently out of water, gasping for breath every step of the way just to stay alive and moving from one day to the next, one crisis to the next.

The common traits of HSP-ism

I felt terrified, abused, ignored, overwhelmed. Over-protected, indulged, and loved–somewhat conditionally— based on my current level of handling whatever it was I was supposed to be handling. I was disillusioned by the world, but knew it was all my fault; blamed myself for being crazy, over-emotional, “too much.” I prayed to be understood, to feel accepted, yet only felt discouraged and unworthy. My life was guided by standards of achievement, which were expected to be met no matter the topic or goal. Loving intention in my environment, admittedly no small thing, could never be enough to mitigate how adrift I felt in my life.

Who were all these people around me who were so confident? How did they get that way? Why did I feel like crying all the damn time? What did they know that I didn’t know?

Death changes everything

Honestly, it was not until my husband Randy transitioned in 2012 that my life took the dramatic turn it apparently needed to clear the way for a true awakening. All the usual challenges—how to live without a beloved spouse, how to go about daily life when suddenly you are one, not a partnership of two, and so on—were enormous, yet it led to the emergent, deep-seated revelatory truth I’d been waiting for.

• Sure, I’d gone to Harvard University, yet never really understood how I got there or how I managed to graduate.
• Sure, I’d raised two children, much of the time as a single parent, yet felt terminally inadequate.
• Sure, I’d worked in some capacity for all these years—as a professional flautist, corporate trainer, counselor, medical transcriptionist, and longtime editor the owner of Harvard Girl Word Services—yet felt supremely unworthy of my own accomplishments.

The dark, dark night of the soul

Now, without my husband at my side, it was time to take a good, hard, long look at who I’d become—or hadn’t. I was 50+ years older, yet the same anxiety-ridden, prone-to-depression, fear-filled, tired person I had always been. Sometimes happier, sometimes sadder, sometimes more productive, sometimes less. But always, always, unsure of myself, my place in the world, my purpose.

On becoming high-functioning

High Sensitives like me—like us—can be really good at what we do. The thing is, we can be so filled with misgiving that we would rather stay anonymously in the background than stand out in the limelight. For example, I was happier to be praised for “channeling the messages” of others through writing than write material of my own—to put my name on the cover. To stay safe in a world where too much attention meant taking responsibility for the attention I might receive. The deep desire to be “seen” never surpasses our deeper need to stay hidden. Being discovered means being known for the fearful mess we can feel we are and are ashamed to be.

If any of this resonates with you, please know that the way ahead for you can be very different. You don’t have to wait until you’re 30 or 40 or 50 (the way I did) to feel inspired to live, and capable of living, a beautiful life.

What’s  your journey?

Of course, my journey is not yours. Writing a book with your dead husband after he’s transitioned about forming a relationship with those on the other side of the veil may not be in the stars for you. The only reason I am here now communicating with you, the HSPs of the world, is to share that you are so much more than you give yourself credit for. You have so much more to offer the world than the world might acknowledge. Your talents and abilities are not only valid and valuable, but the very talents and abilities that keep the world in balance, keep it from going over to the dark side, and are the saving grace of all humanity.

Sure, it’s a big statement, but I stand behind it.

Tools & techniques for the HSPs of the world–for YOU!

With the incredible realizations and tools and techniques I have acquired along the way, however, I am no longer that person. The kernel of who I was remains, but instead of rotting away from neglect, it has happily blossomed into something, someone, authentic and alive and full of life.

No, it doesn’t always happen all at once. It was more like the unraveling of a slow-moving epiphany than a Big Bang. Like the psychic octopus: Learning that Heidi hadn’t really existed at all, just the energy of other people who’d been invited in to take residence in her mind, body, and spirit.

Like the UES: Learning that I had a Unique Energetic Signature all my own—that all I had to do was identify it, feel it, know it . . . live in it.

That’s what I’m here to share with you. The ideas in Elevating Your HSP-ness will knock your socks off. They will change your life. They will support you through thick and thin. They will really, really, REALLY shift the way you see yourself and the world. They will invite you to realize that you are, and have always been, perfect and perfectly positioned to shine a light in a world that needs it more than ever. A combination of all I have learned and been in my life—the “professorial” element—and all I have ever experienced spiritually and emotionally—that has integrated into an identity I could never have imagined, into who I am today.

This bit of music from my healing guided collection should help you do the same.

The post When you feel lost, don’t give up. It’s the time for a change. first appeared on Elevate Your HSP-ness!.

Negative self-talk

The body cannot distinguish between an actual event and a thought. When you think fearful thoughts, the emotions you feel are the emotions that are saying, “I am in danger; there is an actual danger here.” So what happens? You feel the emotion of agitation, fear, or anxiety, both emotionally and throughout your body. Unfortunately, this kind of useless, dysfunctional thinking has a long-term effect on the us, too,  and actually removes the body’s ability to recover from illness, to stay healthy.

What gets your attention?

Look at it this way. Do the nice things that happen in your life receive a lot of your attention? Maybe you share something good that’s happened today with someone, but after that it’s out of sight, out of mind. It’s the negative stuff that gets all the rehashing. First in your own head, and then outwardly when you share those things with others.

Self-talk is really the issue for HSPs because when the mind constantly generates thoughts of self-judgment and negativity, that’s the way life becomes. Externalizing that feeling about life only brings more of it to us. We talk to people who are happy to complain and whine along with us and get the justification we need to keep whining. We feel supported.

Negative self-talk causes a negative state of consciousness

But here’s the thing. Negative events cause a predominant state of consciousness that’s negative! You’ve probably heard this or similar statements a million times. The difference here is that we take that (not always immediately recognizable) correlation between your mental/emotional state and what happens to you, your associations, your work, etc., and cut that correlation. Sever the cord. Untie the binds. See what I mean?

Who do you judge?

Naturally, it’s easier to recognize negativity in others than it is in yourself. Much easier to judge others than yourself. Easier to want someone else to change so you don’t have to . . . so your discomfort or distaste or disregard will go away.

You wouldn’t be reading this if you were not motivated to awaken from the stupor of discomfort, dissatisfaction, disillusionment, or depression. Being motivated is the first step to conscious awareness. Motivation opens the mind, body, and spirit to a new way of thinking, which causes a new way of feeling, which causes a new way of being and living.

Why affirmations don’t work

It’s not enough to speak or think affirmations if you don’t feel their truth. You need to use tools like the Psychic Octopus to truly understand your HSP sensibilities to the degree that you can benefit from them.

You also need to learn who you are, inside and out, to stay present and aligned (the state of feeling good, of intimately knowing your Unique Energetic Signature), no matter what is going on around you.

Can you do it? Absolutely!!!

Do you have to understand it, know it, do it, have it, see it, live it all at once? Definitely not.

If you’re still wearing your suit of misery, it might be time to give it up

You just have to want it more than you want to stay in the place that feels uncomfortably comfortable—or maybe comfortably uncomfortable. That place where you’ve been wearing the Suit of Misery for so long that it’s the only item of clothing you ever wear. No matter how filthy it gets, no matter how ratty and holey it is, you’d rather keep wearing it than buy a new one because buying a new one comes with too many “problems.” Fit. Cost. Effort. The “breaking- in” factor. I mean, who wants to deal with all that, right?

If that’s your story, you are free to stick to it.

If you want to change your story, maybe it’s time to buy a new suit.

The post It’s time to exchange your old suit for a new one first appeared on Elevate Your HSP-ness!.

Pretty early on in my life I discovered there was pill for anxiety. Everyone knew such pills were only for housewives trying to numb out their lives (think Jacqueline Suzann and Valley of the Dolls). I never knew anyone who took them or where to get them had I wanted them. Still, I wished there were something to take away the pain. You know, a magic pill that would cure me. An “anti-me” pill: anti-anxiety, anti-depression, anti-everything pill.

I was living in married students’ housing in Ann Arbor, MI when I met Beth and her husband. She was another musician and he was a scientist in the field of pharmaceuticals. Beth and I hung out a lot. Seems we could commiserate on a lot of things. Having babies and raising kids while our husbands were busy working and going to school; being super-sensitive and hyperaware every moment of the day; feeling overwhelmed by it all as we supported each other for being two wonderfully loving, if self-deprecating, women.

Prozac? Are you kidding me?

One day Beth told me her husband and his team had developed this new drug called Prozac, which was supposed to help relieve the symptoms of depression. Well, count me in, right?

Wrong.

Drugs? Me? Never! I should be able to deal with my own issues (from the panic attacks to the generalized fear to the postpartum depression) by myself. Otherwise, I was weak and unworthy. And the same went for you. If you couldn’t handle your life, there had to be something wrong with you. 

15 years later

Okay, so now it’s 15 years later. I’ve been divorced from that husband and remarried to a wonderful man who was at least as sensitive as I was. Incredible! He wasn’t scared off by my intensity or my tears. In fact, he could go there as fast as I could. It was a marriage made in heaven.

And yet . . .

I still suffered internally. I was afraid of being a bad mother and a bad partner. Afraid of not doing or being enough. And on and on and on. There was no stopping me. Just think of all the energy I used being so anxious that could have been put to another use. By then, Prozac had been on the market all that time and, in the back of my mind, I really, really wanted to see if it could help me. Still, “taking drugs” was a Very Bad Thing To Do. It meant you were really all those things people said you were. And none of them were good.

Which is worse? Being who I was or “taking drugs”?

Finally, though, at some point, I realized I had reached a point that no matter what my external circumstances, my internal voice was struggling to stay sane. So, yeah, I went to the shrink and got myself some good old-fashioned Prozac. The incredible thing was that within days I was getting out of bed in the morning for the first time in my life that I could recall with actual enthusiasm. Gone was the “Omigod, another day, groan” thing. GONE.

My husband was horrified. I’d been so good at keeping my depression secret that he could not believe I “needed something like that” to fix me. Wasn’t I happy with him? Didn’t we have a good life?

“I can’t help it. I was born that way.”

I tried to explain my situation in terms of science. “You see,” I told him, “it’s just that it’s a chemical thing and there’s’ really nothing I can do about it. I was born that way. It’s not psychological, it’s chemical, and I need help to be okay.”

He was not happy. He felt he wasn’t enough.

I wasn’t happy. I felt I wasn’t enough. Plus, I knew now that I was truly broken.

I kept the fact that I was “taking drugs” secret, much as I’d kept my state of being secret. Inside I felt ashamed and guilty even though I’d never felt so free from the weight that had kept me down all those years.

In a twist of fate worthy of a fairy tale, it wasn’t until the death of my husband Randy that everything became clear. . . .

To Be Continued

Stay tuned for Part 2 of HSPs and the Magic Pill in tomorrow’s message.

The post HSPs and the Magic Pill: We all wish we had one first appeared on Elevate Your HSP-ness!.

Leaping was easy when you were a kid. It’s time to leap into being the brilliant HSP  you were created to be!

How do you get to be a BADASS . . .  the abundantly brilliant, consciously aware, amazingly dynamic, unapologetically adept, and unambiguously sensational being you were created to be?

First, you probably need to have a “psychic opening.”

I wouldn’t necessarily recommend doing it the way I did. You know, the whole dark-night-of-the-soul experience that takes you so far down into the morass of hell that you almost forget there’s any other place that ever exited. Yeah, that place. So, no, if you don’t need to go there, don’t.

On the other hand.

Sometimes that’s what it takes to have the psychic opening you need to crack wide the tightly wrapped egg-like structure (feels hard until it breaks at the slightest touch) of the depths of you.

What happened to me: My psychic opening

There I was, stuck in British Columbia, in a place I knew nothing about, with people I’d never met, working on a book with a medium I had just met, because my dead husband had told her to contact me.

I know. I thought it was nuts, too.

Randy had only died a few months earlier and I was in no condition to travel anywhere. I could barely get out of bed in the morning, let alone think about getting in my car and driving to Canada or to an airport to fly on an actual plane with actual crowds of people. My panic attacks were worsening. I woke up to my heart pounding and went to sleep—eventually and only after sheer exhaustion—with my heart pounding. The incessant, rapid thumping in my chest was telling me, “You’re in trouble. Your life has caught up to you. You’re dying. You’ll never make it–wherever that might be. Give up.”

Honestly, if it weren’t for this woman’s phone call (“Hello, my name is ____ and Randy told me to call you to say we have to work together on a book”) I may have opted out. The discomfort of living in my own body with my own thoughts and my own emotions was so great that shutting down once and for all felt like a viable option.

The Spirit World is on your side.

Without explaining herself with any specificity, this woman I didn’t know told me I was supposed to stay with her in Canada, work with her, and help her write her book. That Randy was guiding the process. Orchestrating on my (our) behalf.

Looking back, I know it was the lifeline I needed. I felt myself moving through the murky waters of grief to renew my passport, buy a suitcase, pack my bags, purchase a laptop for traveling until one day I arrived on Vancouver Island wondering how in heck I’d gotten there. It wasn’t until a couple of years later that I fully began to realize the way the Spirit World and my “gatekeeper,” Randy, was orchestrating so brilliantly to help me live a happier life.

She told me I was having a “psychic opening.”

It took a month for me to hear anything anyone was saying to me, even while I was writing and editing. It took another month for me to hear the words “psychic opening” and understand it had anything to do with me. That everything I knew, believed I knew; felt and believed I felt; thought and believed I thought was pretty much wrong. Or at least upside-down or something other than correct. The first time I heard it I went speechless. They were words, but words that could not possibly apply to me.

What if what you feel is not what you feel?

If you’re reading this, you probably know what it’s like to live life with anxiety and fear and emotional excess. The idea that someone would tell you that it’s because “you’re having a psychic opening” is just as probably not something you’ve ever heard before. But, when I tell you it’s what turned my life around, I’m not exaggerating. I’m not using hyperbole to make a point. I’m simply stating a fact.

When I share the news with clients that this is what is happening to them, most often they look at me like I’m crazy. They’ve been told their emotional states have been “over the top” and “too much” for so long that looking at them any other way seems completely unfathomable. Ridiculous even.

As “HSPs,” It’s time to embrace the concept that YOU can be highly intuitive and phenomenally strong at the same time. . . .

Be the Brilliant HSP You Were Created To Be!

As I said in my last post, it’s time to take the leap into your “BADASS-edness”: you abundantly brilliant, consciously aware, amazingly dynamic, unapologetically adept, and unambiguously sensational–being you were created to be!

It’s about going from unhappy to happy, unempowered to empowered. Into laughing and loving and generally feeling that life is more, not less, than it was cracked up to be. 

Will you feel this way all the time? Probably not. Neither do I. But the pauses in between are getting smaller.

Or you might say that I’m living in the pauses themselves.

Yeah…no. It’s much too far from anything they know, much too off the wall from anything they’ve ever heard, to consider.

And yet, it’s the truth.

Take the leap into your BADASS-edness!

And once you step into the truth and work within its brilliantly high-frequency resolution of competency and awareness, the release is stupendous. The relief is like the biggest breath you’ve ever taken. The renewal is as powerful as the strongest adrenaline surge.

But the best thing about being a brilliant HSP?

You’re one forever.

The post You can be the Brilliant HSP You Were Created To Be! first appeared on Elevate Your HSP-ness!.

It’s important what we name things, how we label them. Whenever we use a prefix such as “over,” for example, it’s to imply that something is too much. Relative to so-called “high sensitivity,” we’re saying simply that we are too much of whatever it is. In this case, emotion, sensitivity, intensity, fear, anxiety, depression . . . basically, too much of everything.

HSPs and SPS Sensory Processing Sensitivity

Although Sensory Processing Sensitivity, or SPS, as coined in the mid-1990s by psychologists Elaine Aron and her husband Arthur Aron, who developed the Highly Sensitive Person Scale (HSPS) questionnaire by which SPS is measured, does not in and of itself imply that if you meet certain standards you’re “too much,” it does directly speak to the idea of sensory overload. The idea that because high-sensitives habitually live in a state of overwhelm, we are equally “too much” and “less than” in comparison with others. Sadly, HSPs like myself have spent a lifetime trying to believe that we’re not too much and refuting that we are too much when really all we want to be is appreciated for who we are and what we bring to the table. By others, but more importantly, by our own definition and standards.

Labeling us doesn’t help…or does it?

Now that the label of HSP and the use of SPS is fairly au courante, the conversation has been expanded. Which is awesome, don’t get me wrong. But once again, though I myself readily admit to using the term as an identifier, most people who hear it are afraid of using it. The word sensitivity alone is enough to make them run in the other direction. As if sensitivity is something you could catch, something to be ashamed of, something unlikeable, unmanageable, and above all, undesirable. Admitting to high sensitivity is like wearing a sign around your neck that says, “Hello. My name is Heidi and I cannot cope with much of anything in the world. Please like me anyway. (But, if you don’t like me, maybe you could put up with me?)”

Switching the paradigm of how we talk about and perceive “sensitivity“

Once again, it’s time to flip it. Flip the language, the paradigm, the perspective. How about instead of “over” everything, we’re “under” all of it. We underscore the necessity of community; we understand—and want to understand—other people’s lens for experiencing life. Essentially, we are under it all in the most literal sense of the word. HSPs are humanity’s foundation. We are the limbs people cling to in times of dire need. We are the baseline for love on a grand scale. We are holding up the world, and have done so for such a long time and to such a degree, that we are often, and our efforts are often, invisible and, without which, there would be no humanity. We support compassionate yet strong and direct leadership. We promote self-confidence and self-esteem because we have been through the wringer ourselves.

HSPs are humanity’s foundation

Recognizing that we are humanity’s foundation as opposed to the fault line, the brilliant as opposed to the bewildered, means that we have become aware that it is now the time to leave “too much” behind and step forward into “too amazing to believe.”

HSPs are not weak; they are saviors of humanity—past, present, and future

High-Maintenance or High-Sensitive…or more capable than we give ourselves credit for?

It’s time to stop apologizing for who we are when we are uniquely . . .

• adept
• dexterous
• thoughtful
• insightful, and yes,
• sensitive

. . . individuals who bring balance to the world. As we talked about in yesterday’s posting, we, HSPs, sensitives, peacemakers, caregivers, artists, we are not the bane of society, but the saviors of humankind.

As long as we are clear that this is true, we will never feel that we are too much to handle ever again.

The post Are HSPs really “hyper-sensitive” or “hyper-capable”? first appeared on Elevate Your HSP-ness!.

Living in the world of COVID–or any traumatic situation–when you’re a high-sensitive person

You have manifested in physical form for a reason.

It’s my hope that these posts encourage you to step into who you really are—a Vacationing Angel. Spirit that has made the choice to manifest in physical form to have the human experience. How? By establishing your Unique Energetic Signature (UES), opening your heart, reeling in your psychic octopuses, and establishing a relationship with your inner guidance. Why? Because the great choices we made in Spirit form don’t always seem to translate into our experience as humans. We need connection, love, support—we need help sometimes to understand what we’re capable of as spirit in human form, to appreciate who we really are, to take advantage of life in human form with all its complexities and possibilities and opportunities.

As Gregg Braden says,

“If the particles that we’re made of can be in instantaneous communication with one another be in two places at once,
and even change the past through choices made in the present, then we can as well.”

The Law of Cause & Effect, karma, and cocreation.

One of the earliest teachings of the Buddha (2600 years ago) is known as the Law of Karma, or the Law of Cause & Effect. This universal law has existed for tens of thousands of years in the most ancient African societies, Native American & First Nation cultures, and on the Indian subcontinent. This divine principle teaches us that we are co-creators of every moment, working hand-in-hand with the Divine. Which means we are never alone, never really on our own, never succeeding in isolation, and never separate. Every moment, we are partnering with the universe to get something done, to evolve.

The “reality” of Covid.

In a recent post we talked about living life with an open heart, and what difference that makes to how we perceive “reality” and how we manifest our experiences in human form. We’ve explored how it doesn’t have to be a risk to open our hearts because what it does it create a sense of ultimate freedom and engagement with self, others, and spirit. Today we’re focusing on the real meaning of CO-VID. What’s really fascinating is that I can pretty much guarantee that the person or people who came up with that name for this virus were only thinking of its so-called scientific application, when you break it down something incredible happens. We see it for what it is.

Here’s how it works: The Sanskrit word for knowledge is vidya. The English word wisdom comes from its root—vid. The prefix “co,” from the Latin, means “together, mutually, in common.” In this case it’s easy to see how, if every moment is a co-creation, Covid is nothing more—and nothing less—than a shared wisdom, a shared knowing . .

A Shared Awakening!

Add to this the fact that the number 19—1 for beginning and 9 for endings—well, it seems the message is that this is a critical time in all our lives and it’s up to us what we do with it.

“We are pushed by pain until we are pulled by a vision.” Michael Beckwith

When the scary world of Covid turns into “a shared awakening,” nothing looks or feels the same.

The questions Highly Sensitive People need to ask ourselves right now:

• What are we learning about ourselves to promote self-awareness and self-acceptance?
• How are we growing–and in which direction?
• Are we taking the time to reflect upon our next step along the path to our greatness?
• Are we being kind in the process?
• Are we practicing in whatever ways that feel comfortable to share a greater awakening with the world at large?

Learning how to survive and thrive in a times of stress is even more important for high sensitives! To take our “anxiety” and transmute it into incredible. Transmute our “depression” into deepened awareness. And our “ailments” into ease.

It’s up to us, all the HSPs of the world, to lead the way with the gifts–the heightened sensitivities–with which we have been blessed.

***Listen to my recording of “Healing from the Symptoms of Covid” music on youtube!***

The post HSPs & Covid: How to navigate a crazy world and stay sane first appeared on Elevate Your HSP-ness!.

Are you traveling life with your everyday roadmap or . . .

It’s up to you to choose the roads well traveled or discover who you really are with the roadmap of the soul–the HSP’s Roadmap to Magnificence. But this is not about plotting and planning or setting guidelines and parameters or even deciding what to pack to take along with you. It’s not about the gear or the funding or the friends.

What do you need when you take a trip? Usually you need a destination, a physical one, a place. You’re taking this trip because you have a purpose in mind. You’re visiting family or friends, going on holiday, or traveling for work.

This is a different kind of roadmap, where the only destination is self-fulfillment. This is the roadmap–the “soulmap” for high sensitives. The HSP’s Roadmap to Magnificence.

. . . Traveling life with your Roadmap to Magnificence?

It’s about discovering, or rediscovering, or renewing who you really are. Who you were meant to be. Who you could be, who you can be, who you want to be. It’s about embarking on a journey that is never-ending, but always feels as if you’re arriving. Achieving and manifesting what you want because what you want is to be who you are. HSPs are known for their compassion, sympathy, empathy, and overall caring. But if we’re not able to fully be present in our power, our so-called “sensitivities” drain us to the point of burnout manifesting physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually.

Curses are blessings in disguise

Society tells us they’re curses. All those abilities that make us the unique individuals who we are. The ways in which we handle ourselves in the world—or don’t—and the way we react to what goes on around us—or don’t. Depending on the judge, or the parent, or teacher, or employer, etc., we are told we are unable, unwilling, unmotivated, or just too stubborn to do what’s “right.” What fits the mold. What seems “normal.” What reflects society’s view of the norm.

“You’re so emo.” “You care too much.” “Calm down, you’re hysterical.” “Why are you always depressed?” Use your common sense. You can’t make decisions based on your emotions!” “Don’t be weak, be strong! Suck it up!” “You’re still grieving? Aren’t you over it yet?”

Stuck in the rotaries of life

If it feels as if you’re going around in circles, it’s probably true. It’s tough to believe in yourself, in your own way of thinking and doing things, when the world is telling you otherwise. Like the proverbial hamster on a wheel, you might be getting older, but you’re certainly not getting anywhere you might want to be. It’s a place of always praying you can get some traction, but all you can come up with is another slippery tread, so the only obvious choice is to keep going (and not get anywhere), or get off (and wonder why you ever got on in the first place).

Just like the rotaries on our roads that are meant to steer traffic and keep the flow moving, we can use the brilliant gifts we’ve been given to go in circles or get off and head a whole new direction.

Using your Intuitive Guidance System (IGS)

Once you’ve reconfigured your vehicle’s guidance system from GPS, a Global Positioning System, to your IGS, your Intuitive Guidance System, life is never the same. Add in your shift to using the psychic octopus and Unique Energetic Signature techniques for energetic alignment and you’ve got it made!

Resetting your compass

We’re going to explore what happens when you make these choice. When you reset your compass with a new perspective that invites self-acceptance, self-love, and self-esteem. An entirely new approach that invites you to believe in the who you really are, and the brilliance of who you really are, once and for all.

Starting…right…now.

The post The HSP’s Roadmap to Magnificence is the journey of the soul first appeared on Elevate Your HSP-ness!.