“The Package Came C.O.D.”

by Heidi Connolly

The package came C.O.D.

The delivery guy said it was for me

I signed for it, opened it, put it on, claimed it

I owned it then; it sure owned me;

I could have thrown it down

Kicked it to the floor

I could have sent it back

And slammed the door;

I could have just said no

I could have stood my ground

I should have watched it leave

Sent it back where it belonged;

’Cause when you live your life in denial

Of who you really are

The light you hold inside you

Sounds like whispers from afar;

You learn of love and how it hurts

For reasons of remorse

It churns and gnaws inside of you

And charts a deceptive course;

When fear is allowed to lead the way

The truth is buried alive

Without a chance to breathe and grow

With no chance to survive;

When doubt grows into hatred

It traps you like a snare

The burden of a thought

That’s really not ours to bear;

If you let it, it will cut you

Your wings clipped in despair

Every minute a sad reflection

Everyday another correction;

When the package came COD

And the delivery guy said it was for me

My life went driving down the street

I lived a lie in defeat;

But now I keep only what is mine

Whatever arrives must be divine

When it’s for me it’s whole, intact

This is a promise and a pact;

I close the door on everything else

I send it back much blessed

For only in the vibration of love

Is fear ever laid to rest;

I lift the veil of denial

I lift the weight of pain

I become the one I’m meant to be

Like a desert freed by rain.

I wrote this song in 2004 and “came upon” it today as I was searching for another file. You might call it a coincidence, but I would much rather land on the side of synchronicity, if for no other reason that it feels good when I do.

Yesterday I posted a poem by Becky Hemsley. Today I found my song. Notwithstanding my lack of songwriting ability and without knowing Becky’s intention for certain, it seems to me that we are talking about similar ideas about accepting who we are. As HSPs. As Highly Sensitive People. As individuals. As humans. As creative souls who live and breathe and identify and share and grow and touch and feel and respond and love and all the rest of it…the whole messy enchilada.

What amazes me is that I wrote this in 2004, not 2012 after my husband died or 2014 when I began hearing from him. Not all these years after discovering that my HSP-ness was directly related to my psychic and mediumship abilities and being witness to my own growth as an author.

I had to ask myself: If I didn’t know then what I know now, where did the words come from? Was I already channeling, if you want to call it that, my higher self? Had I entered some kind of 5^th-dimensional reality or parallel universe? Had I time traveled?

I really don’t know.

Yet here I sit before you today (well, before my computer writing to you) and feeling every word of this song.

I have lifted the veil of denial

I have lifted the weight of pain

I am becoming the one I’m meant to be

.

The post Fear came wrapped in a package and arrived C.O.D. first appeared on Elevate Your HSP-ness!.

By far the most common questions I get from HSPs are, “Why can’t I be normal like everyone else?” “Why do I have to be so sensitive?” And “Why can’t other people understand and make it easier for me?”

My answers are simple:

1.  There is no normal.
2.  You are yourself and that’s as normal as it gets.
3.  Once you see your sensitivities as abilities meant to be celebrated, not something to bemoan, you’ll never see life the same way again.

I know, I know. Easier said than done. But not really. Not once you make a small shift in your way of thinking and have a few basic tools.

Let’s look at these beliefs in more detail.

As soon as we start believing that we, as HSPs, are different in a way that makes us vulnerable, we are viewing ourselves as victims. We say we want to be “normal,” but normal is nothing more than deciding we’d be better off not being who we are. We’d be better off being like “other people.” Neither of which is true. The reality is that being highly sensitive can mean a truly wonderful existence. But only if and when we are ready to stop believing that it’s up to other people to be different and do things differently for us. To make us feel better. To make us happier. To make things easier.

We’d all like to live in a world that is willing to accommodate us so we feel comfortable.

As soon as something happens to “make us” uncomfortable, we immediately feel the need—the compulsion—to make the world shift itself around in order for us to remain or revert to our comfortable spot. Feeling

• put out
• unlike yourself
• like a fish out of water
• like something is off…

. . . All these sensations cause such discomfort that we will do just about anything to change how we feel. There’s overindulging, avoiding, distracting, blaming…the list of potential ways to deny the discomfort is endless.

The bottom line

The bottom line, however unfortunate it seems, is this: Our sensitivity may be heightened, but we can never really expect the world to accommodate us.

I have come to realize that it is up to me to learn to be in my own alignment so the world does not “trigger me.” Saying that someone or something “triggers us” is like admitting that we have absolutely no power. That we are at the mercy of other people, whatever circumstances we find ourselves in, and the greater environment.

For years I asked myself, “Do I really want to live like this? I am such a victim of everything and everyone. There has to be a way to change the way I am—without sacrificing my sensitivity. Because my sensitivity is what makes me extra loving, extra generous and kind, extra compassionate, extra creative, extra empathetic, and extraordinary. Basically, just plain extra.”

The answer was NO! Which is why somehow, I had to tap into what would invite me to use all those wonderful traits without being constantly at risk for falling apart.

Yes, the world might feel threatened by the high sensitive’s ability to love and care, but only because, without realizing it, they are feeling the powerful vibration of our love energy. And when people feel threatened, they tend to go into flight or fight mode.

But on my part, there is another possibility for how I respond. I learned that I do not need to protect myself from these people. I don’t need to push against, hope for, change circumstances, wish things were different or people were different. All I have to do is learn to be in alignment with my highest self and love being there. Every day, in every way, over and over and over.

I learned that you don’t need to conquer fear and anxiety, but rather exist in your own state of natural harmony. You don’t need to avoid triggers, but rather not feel triggered in the first place. No matter what has happened in our past.

I have spent years developing tools to help others do the very same thing and without exception, it changes everything. [Check out my posts on the Psychic Octopus (globbing onto other people’s energy); your UES (how to identify and stay in your Unique Energetic Signature); and your IGS (how to confidently and consistently tap into your Intuitive Guidance System.]

“Why can’t people understand that I’m sensitive and that I can’t help it?” Because it’s up to us as HSPs to develop our own sense of what’s normal–and love it.

I’ll say it again. I know it sounds simplistic.

But if I can do it, so can you.

The post Why can’t people understand that I’m sensitive and that I can’t help it? first appeared on Elevate Your HSP-ness!.

It’s a tough world out there for us singles, right? “There are no good ones out there” is something you hear on the lips of single people just as often in North Dakota as in New York City. When you’re looking for your soul mate, it seems like it’s the same story everywhere—regardless of gender, sexual orientation, race, ethnicity, or political affiliation. On the other hand, sometimes it seems everyone “out there” has got what we don’t and what we want.

Is it as bad out there as you think it is?

For HSPs, the dating world can appear to present even more of a challenge. The traits that HSPs exhibit can be off-putting to others in ways we cannot even comprehend. Of, if we do understand the effect we have on people, we’ve already come to the conclusion that we really don’t want to change and question why we should in the first place.

The paradox of HSP-ism

The two faces of HSP-ism are where the paradox lies. We want to be ourselves. We want nothing more than to relish, celebrate, and love our sensitivities. But, out in the world, we feel constantly bombarded by the oppressiveness of “other.” The other way people think and feel. What they believe and value. What they want from us and what they want to share with us.

We find ourselves at a loss.

When we’re looking at evolving a potentially intimate relationship, there are so many ways the mind can keep us trapped. HSPs tend to leap impulsively ahead . . . or refuse to ever risk taking the leap. HSPs feel the need to share who they are right away . . . or stay locked in a box with the key inside. HSPs crave closeness . . . but have learned that their idea of closeness is usually not the same as other people’s.

What to do?

I can only offer my experience as a single hetero woman whose husband died 10 years ago, who is, on the scale of HSP-ness, a probable 8.5 out of 10, and as someone who’s been dating for a while now. Still, I believe this advice will serve anyone who’s a high sensitive and interested in pursuing an intimate relationship without the usual fear and trepidation or avoidance.

How to date when you’re an HSP

Sorry, but there’s no other way . . .

I really don’t like hitting the nail on the head over and over and over, but honestly? There’s no other way to say this. When you have established what it feels like to be in your own alignment, and you know how good that feels, you begin to not only draw to you the kinds of potential partners you’d like to have in your life, but you also aren’t disappointed in those who don’t meet your hopes and expectations.

When you’re no longer focused on what people will think of you, of how nervous or worried or fearful or defensive or anxious or jumpy you feel, it’s a lot easier to be in any situation, on any kind of date, and simply be there.

Focusing on maintaining your alignment is your sole focus. Sure, you’re interested in the person in front of you, learning about them, but that’s secondary to how YOU feel about YOU.

Dates become interesting. You go in with curiosity, not fear, anxiety, or defensiveness. When you’re an aware HSP, you go into every dating situation being your authentic self and being okay with whatever goes down. Your sensitivities provide insight, but, because your psychic octopus energetic tentacles are reeled in, you don’t feel like you’re noodling around in your date or losing yourself to the situation.

You’re you. You’re amazing. And you’re fine.

***

Keep an eye out for my new book, soon to be published: Elevating Your HSP-ness: How To Live a High-Frequency Life by Amplifying Your Vibration, Celebrating Your Sensitivities, & Uplifting the World

Check out my articles on the Psychic Octopus (globbing onto other people’s energy); your UES (how to identify and stay in your Unique Energetic Signature); and your IGS (how to confidently and consistently tap into your Intuitive Guidance System.

Thank you for shining your light into the world!

The post The HSP-ness of Being Single, Dating, and Disillusioned first appeared on Elevate Your HSP-ness!.

Uh-oh. Something feels wrong…REALLY WRONG.

One of the things that guided my life for more years than I’d care to admit is all the fears I carried around. So many of them I can hardly begin to name them here. You’ve got your basic environmental fears, like fear of bugs that fly, fear of bugs that crawl, fear of deep water, fear of falling, and fear of not being able to fall asleep. Then you’ve got the fears that actually have a basis in reality, like the time you almost drown or the time you woke up and a giant spider was on your face. Then you’ve got the emotional/psychological fears and phobias, the kind that you’ve developed over time based on how you grew up, what you were taught to think, believe, and be. And, finally, you’ve got the last kind: fears that have no real basis for being there (except past lifetime stuff). Like one of mine: Fear of the woods.

In overnight camp I did everything from feigning illness to begging to get out of camping in the woods. As a young married woman, I braved camping in the woods because my husband was such an enthusiast. I hated it. The next day I was bitten all over and I felt like I’d slept on a bed of rocks. Which I had.

For many years I’ve lived by the ocean, or at least near the water. Now I live where there’s plenty of water, but also lots and lots of forest. Like woods. Trees. Very tall trees. Very big forests.

I have hiked in the woods plenty of times, but each time takes me far outside my comfort zone. Usually the whole way there I’m regretting have agreed to go in the first place.

A few days ago, I had another such experience.

My sister is called the Tree Whisperer. She has studied trees, planted trees, loved trees, and even married a tree to prove her commitment to its health and wellbeing. She knows a heck of a  lot about tree communication, behavior, and why trees are so important to humanity. I love her love of trees.

Thing is, she’s always asking—and hoping—I’ll be willing to go along with her for a “short, easy walk in the woods.” Sometimes, because I’ve learned so much about being in alignment with my own energy, I say yes. Because the freaking out that used to start before I’d even left the house and that ramped up to a boiling point by the time I got to this “short, easy walk in the woods,” has become less and less severe over time. I have even been known to enjoy myself.

How can you feel lost when you’re on the path?

Still, I always want to know where I am and what the trail looks like and how simple it will be to find our way back. It’s easy to be reassured by my sister (or whomever I’m with) that “It’s only a loop. See here? It just goes around in a circle. No chance of getting lost.”

Yeah, right. Seems like once you’re in the woods, there are always, ALWAYS, chances to get lost. Forks in the path. Ways to go that weren’t on the map and aren’t clearly marked. Even if you have a phone with a compass app, it does no good. Why? Because you don’t know where you are. Hence, I have felt lost many times over in the woods. With my sister and with experienced hikers alike.

In the woods

That’s what happened the other day. I said I’d go to Quinault Rain Forest, one of my sister’s favorite places. The map at the trail head is easy to read. There don’t seem to be any possible ways to go off-path. Looks just like a loop. I’m good to go.

So, Julie and I start on the path. We’re counting bridges to make sure we’re going in the right direction. Still, at one point, like always, there’s a divergence in the path—and no sign. I look at Julie. She looks at me. It’s this way, she says. Sure, I say, and how do you know that? She really doesn’t want me to be afraid. Because I know, she says. But you should use your IGS, anyway, just in case. Your intuition is pretty much spot on.

What? Use my IGS?

But, see, here’s the other thing. When I’m in the woods, I’m so far outside my comfort zone that I feel like my Intuitive Guidance System has blown a fuse. Pretty hard to trust from that place, believe me.

But Julie whipped out her phone and started to video me. A really a smart move, I agree. I went from “I’m so uncomfortable at the thought of going the wrong direction” to “Oh, you’re videoing me? I guess I’d better get into alignment.” Talk about the metaphorical journey of life, right?

Because when your Intuitive Guidance System feels more like a demented compass on speed, it’s time to regroup, reframe, and reassess.

And so I did.

We took the right path, ended up where we belonged, had a nice lunch, and congratulated ourselves all the way home. The video, however, only about 15 seconds long, did not survive as well as I did. Still, it cracks me up every time!

The post HSPs: Outside the Comfort Zone of Being Who We Are first appeared on Elevate Your HSP-ness!.

Thought versus Feeling: The great dichotomy

The great dichotomy—and paradox—around being an HSP is that you feel everything, but when it comes time to meditate you find yourself so stuck in your mind’s meanderings that you can’t let go and do what you do so beautifully: feel intensely.

Today we’re going to talk about the actual process behind this dichotomy and what to do about it.

Premise: “I’m too sensitive. I feel everything.”

Okay, so you’re an HSP, a very highly sensitive person. Which, like I said, basically means you feel everything. But it also means you tend to overthink everything. It’s a constant back-and-forth that keeps you tightly wound in insecurity, indecision, and, often, irreconcilable conflict.

Supposition: “Meditation is too hard.”

Meditation is one, if not the, best way to rewire the way you move through life. It can be difficult for the very same dichotomy stated above. The key is to start thinking about the difference between feeling, as in emotion, and feeling, as the somatic sensations caused in the body. Otherwise, you can feel like a big blockhead!

The example:

“I’m upset.” Being upset is an emotional state, an emotion you can name and feel on that emotional level.

“I feel upset.” Your heart is pounding in your chest because you feel upset. The heart’s pounding is your body’s somatic response to whatever you tell yourself you’re experiencing: the sensation.

Identifying the difference and then isolating whatever sensation in your body is taking place is what can help guide you into leaving the mind out of the picture.

In your head, the conversation (at least, if you’re anything like me) can go something like this.

“Okay, I’m trying to meditate. I’m trying to quiet the mind. Stop my thoughts. All the things that everyone says to do. But I can’t. I feel fidgety and my mind is hopping from one thought to the next. Why can’t I stop the thoughts? Why can’t I “focus on my breath” and “relax”? Why is it so easy for other people? I give up.”

I’ll tell you a little secret. One reason why it feels so difficult is exactly because you’re such a brilliant HSP! The very HSP-ness qualities that make you experience everything so strongly are the same qualities that have your mind spinning in response.

Shifting the conversation

The only way I’ve found to shift this conundrum is by focusing on all the things my body is feeling while my mind is carrying on doing what it’s doing. To remind myself minute-to-minute, second-to-second, what sensation is going on in my body as I’m busily labeling, thinking, directing, mulling, whining, reliving conversations, and so on.

Shifting into conscious awareness

Whenever I become aware that I’m having the thought I’m having, I think, “Oh, I’m not meditating. I’m having a thought. Oops.”

“Let’s see. What am I feeling in relation to that thought? What is my response to that thought?”

• The Thought: “I’m remembering the argument I had yesterday with a friend.”
• The Emotion: “I feel angry. I feel like I want to cry (or scream or….)”
• The Sensation: “What is the sensation in my body? Can I isolate it? Is it diffuse throughout? Oh, yeah. My chest feels hard and tight and I feel sick to my stomach.”

Going into your body (Leaving Your Mind Behind)

Already, simply by becoming consciously aware of this process has brought you from 100% mind chatter “into your body.”

I always wondered what people meant by “being in your body.” I believe this is exactly what it means.

To go from a thought state to an emotional state is not enough. You need to take one step further to bring you into your somatic body, which then allows you (invites you) to truly FEEL sensationally rather than emotionally. Not thinking about what I’m feeling, but actually feeling it. Whether it’s tingling or breathing in and out or heaviness or lightness or a fast heartbeat or anything else.

This is where the rubber meets the road, guys. This is where your mind takes a breather. This is where your ability to meditate takes off.

Hallelujah!

The post Meditation: The most powerful way to reach your true self. first appeared on Elevate Your HSP-ness!.

HSPs & the Red Coat: Part 1

When something feels like yours, isn’t it yours? Remember the Bible story of “Joseph and the Coat of Many Colors”? In a nutshell, Joseph, his father’s favorite son, was gifted a magnificent coat, which made his brothers jealous. So jealous that they hatched a plot to sell him into slavery for 20 pieces of silver. In Egypt, Joseph’s his gift for telling the future helped him turn his fortunes. Let’s take a look at what happens when you’re around “someone else’s coat.”

HSPs & the Red Coat Questions:

• Is your “coat” like Joseph’s?
• Is it really yours?
• Does it really have your UES, your Unique Energetic Signature?

We’ve been talking about your Psychic Octopus for a while now, and have started to get into the nitty-gritty of how to apply that life-altering tool with the last couple of posts on your Psychic Sponge (Energetic Sponge). But which comes first, the chicken or the egg?

In other words, “wringing out” sponge energy that you may have soaked up from your environment is a great thing, but until you recognize you’ve taken it on, there’s not much you can do about it. Which brings us to the next critical bit of information to ensure your roadmap to amplifying your vibration and celebrating your sensitivities takes you where you want to go!

* * * * * 

Present Day

You’ve just arrived for dinner at your favorite restaurant, a small, intimate place you’ve been going to for years. You’re wearing your favorite coat, the one you wear as often as weather permits. It’s red, with a velvet collar. It fits you to a T. It’s comfortable and luxurious at the same time, which isn’t the case with too many clothes, so when you wear it you feel fantastic. You especially love that the pockets are nice and deep so you can store things like your wallet and cell phone. When you wear it you couldn’t possibly feel more like you.

Anyway, there you are at the restaurant. You remove your special coat and hand it to the waiter who’s been there forever and knows you by name. You ask for Guido’s family and he asks for yours. He takes your coat to the coat room for safekeeping.

You have a meal that’s as tasty as ever (probably eggplant parm) and are ready to leave. Guido brings you your gorg red coat and helps you into it. It’s begun to snow outside and you are glad for its warmth as you pass through the door to walk home.

3 Months Later: Whose Coat Is It???

Your phone rings. It’s an unidentified number, so you let it go to voicemail and forget about it for a couple of days. When the same number calls through again, you’re distracted and pick it up automatically and say hello. The voice on the other end of the phone sounds hesitant.

“Um, I know this will sound strange,” says the voice, “but I really think you have my coat.”

“Um, I know this will sound strange,” the voice goes on, “but I really think you have my coat.”

You look at the phone, shocked. What is this person talking about? “What do you mean, I have your coat?” you repeat. “What are you talking about?”

“I know,” the voice says again, “it sounds crazy. But you were at Antonio’s Ristorante three months ago, right?”

“Well, yes,” you say slowly, thinking back, “but how did you know that? Who are you? What do you want?” You’re beginning to get suspicious.

“Don’t worry, it’s nothing bad,” continues the voice. “It’s just that I really think you went home with my coat . . . and I went home with yours.”

“That’s impossible,” you say.

“Nooo, I don’t think so,” says the voice, irritatingly self-assured.

“I have that coat right here with me,” you say, well on the way to peeved. “It can’t possibly be yours. It’s my red coat with the black velvet collar. It fits me perfectly. I love this coat. I’ve had it for a long time and I’d know if it weren’t mine.”

“I’m really sorry,” says the voice once again, not really sounding sorry at all, “it’s just that if you look in the pocket you’ll find something I left in the pocket that’s really special to me. I thought I’d lost it, but then, when I was at Antonio’s last night, Guido thought I was you at first, that there was another customer who always wore the same red coat. That’s when I realized we’d probably walked off with the wrong coats.”

You can’t believe it. It’s ridiculous. It doesn’t make sense.

You can’t believe it. It’s ridiculous. It doesn’t make sense. How could something that feels so right not belong to you? You’ve worn it forever; wouldn’t you know if it was not yours? Wouldn’t you know by its feel or its smell? Still, you hesitate. Finally, you say, “Okay, so what you’re saying is that you left something in the pocket that you want back, right?”

“That’s right,” says the voice. “Can you check for me?”

You sigh. This really feels like a very strange conversation. Although you are still not willing to admit the coat is not yours, if it were you, you know you’d want your coat back—or at least the thing in the coat that you thought you’d lost, so you slowly stick your hand in the left pocket and feel around. You remove a used tissue, a receipt, and a mint, but nothing else. You turn to the other pocket and, still feeling stupid, stick your hand in. Out comes another tissue and a stick of lip balm. You don’t feel much else. You’re relieved, much more relieved that you think the circumstances warrant, and you don’t know why.

“Nope, there’s nothing here,” you say, sounding a bit smug.

The voice sounds small this time. “Please,” it says, “could you check just once more? It’s really small, so it often slips way down into the corner of the pocket. It’s a little metal coin of an angel that my father gave me when I was little and before he died. It means a lot to me.”

You sigh an even bigger sign, but agree to check again when you hear the catch in their voice. This time, you make sure to delve deep down in the corner where you feel something that catches you up short. Sure enough, there’s something there, something small and thin and round. You almost don’t want to remove your hand to see what it is. Somehow you know this is the angel coin this person has lost.

Which is when the moment you realize that, if the coin in the pocket belongs to someone else, so does your coat. That it’s not your coat at all.

2 Days Later

You have just exchanged coats with the person who called you on the phone. You met at Antonio’s, which seemed appropriate. You looked at each other and took each other in. You’re about the same size, and have the same hair color, but other than that, you are not the same at all. When you offer back the angel coin to this person, you feel both uncomfortable and relieved. You cannot believe that all this time you were wearing a coat that you were convinced was yours, but belonged to someone else. You are thanked many times over by the person whose coat you were wearing and who was wearing your coat before they leave.

This is when you ask yourself the following questions:

• If wearing someone else’s coat can feel so right, can feel as if it’s mine without a shadow of a doubt, then what else could be going on here?
• What else am I believing is “mine” that really belongs to someone else?
• How do I know if/when I’m in my own Unique Energetic Signature or diddling around in someone else’s?
• What about all the feelings I feel and the thoughts that come into my head unbidden?
• When I feel sad or angry or upset, are those feelings really mine?
• Because if they’re not mine, I don’t really want them.
• If I know I don’t want them, how do I give them back—or not accept them at all?

These are questions you have never asked before, but realize in this moment of life-shattering brilliance that they could change your life.

* * * * * 

STAY TUNED FOR PART 2 of “HSPs and the Red Coat.”

The post Your you feel what you feel, they’re your feelings…right? 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!.

From Highly Sensitive Person to Heroically, Inherently Bad-Ass

I’ll tell you what . . .

I got tired of being told I was too sensitive by the time I was about 5. That’s when I began to understand that I was being told in no uncertain terms that my feelings didn’t matter as much as other people’s and that in order to “get along” I needed to stop expressing them. Not that I was able to truly comprehend the magnitude of such an understanding. Over time, it simply seeped into my brain, soul, and heart. The constant message that it was risky, dangerous even, to express what I felt, what I felt I knew, what felt right, what my “gut” was telling me. Naturally, the more time that went by, the more my happy little joyful free child self became an introverted, terrified-I’d-be-discovered self. It’s taken me years (you don’t want to know how many) to unlearn that behavior. To discover that the fearful person I was, is not the confident person I started out as when I came into the world.

I meet people every day that are . . .

• Afraid to speak out/up
• Are afraid to be who they are
• Afraid to put forth their opinion
• Afraid to be “wrong” (according to the standards of others, whoever those others are in that moment)
• Afraid to “fail” (according to the standards of others, whoever those others are in that moment)

It could be the lovely, shy person behind the counter at the gym or the gas station attendant afraid to look you in the eye. The musicians who have  a hard time communicating other than on their instruments. The alcoholic or the drug addict who’s more comfortable hiding in those places and spaces than they are expression who they are.

Birth………..Life………….Death

Birth

The beginning of life as a human is birth, at least in terms of awareness as we know it. We come into the world, out of the womb, not only with the awareness our soul had while in that womb, but now with the awareness of all our senses that engage in a whole new way.

Death

We often consider the opposite of LIFE to be DEATH. But BIRTH is actually the opposite of DEATH. It is the beginning and the ending of our physical form in the 3-D world as we know it. Birth is the entry into life and death is the exit out of life. The inhale . . . and the exhale.

Life

LIFE, on the other hand, is what happens between birth and death. It’s all the stuff in between. It’s where we spend however many years breathing in . . . and out to perpetuate the life we’ve been given.

For most of us the fear of death is seen as the fear of the ending of life, but I think it’s much more than that. I think the fear of death starts at a very early age when all the other fears begin to manifest. All those fears listed above start the trend. The very act of breathing becomes difficult when you’re afraid, and breathing is everything. The shallow breath is representative of these fears that result in the biggest fear of all: death. The Biggest Ending of All. Yet, in my way of thinking, it is really the fear of letting go that has evolved into the fear of dying. Letting go of is another way to say “able to express.”

• If I let go of the fear of speaking up, I feel good about expressing myself.
• If I let go of the fear of being who I am, I feel capable of evolving as I move through life.
• If I let go of the fear of putting forth my opinion, I can also be unafraid of listening to the opinions of others.
• If I let go of the fear of being “wrong,” according to the standards of others which have now become my own beliefs and standards and values, I am free to develop my own definitions of what feels right for me.
• If I let go of the fear of “failure,” I not only let go of the tendency to self-sabotage, self-criticize, and potentially bully others, but step into the realm of creative, inspirational thought for no other reason than to see where my thoughts, sensations, and feelings might lead.

In other words . . . Be the Bad-Ass: Let go of the fears we have been taught into the freedom of being the BAD-ASSES we truly are.

Every day is about reminding myself to remember that the “Highly Sensitive Person” I thought and felt I was is actually the Heroically Inherently Bad-Ass being that I am.

The post How to get from point A to point B when you’re an HSP first appeared on Elevate Your HSP-ness!.