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 times of transition….

Transitions. Don’t ya just hate ’em?

It’s not really about the actual getting where you’re going, or even the getting there and then being there, or even about thinking about going, about how you’ll get there, and how it’ll all pan out when you need to leave that can make you nuts. I mean, once you learn you have such great HSP tools at your disposal, and how so many of your triggers are of your own making, once you are where you are, you’re good.

It’s the transitions that are the toughest.

J, one of the friends with whom I’ve just spent the last few days—the awesome highway navigator—left today for her LA conference downtown. Before she left, the three of us were talking about her phenomenal ability to make her way through the world. To travel from country to country and never forget her passport or boarding pass or toiletries. (There was the one time she went to the Netherlands to give a presentation and forgot her skirt, but even then she made do with a couple of scarves wrapped around her waist and a long blazer. Talk about resilient.)

Anyway, J looks at us and says, “You have no idea how hard it is for me to actually get going and do the things I do.”

Skepticism reigns.

Naturally, we are skeptical. “There’s no way,” we argue. “Look at what you do and how you do it. You practically beam from one country to another, never with more than one carryon suitcase, no matter how long you’re staying or how much country-hopping you’re doing.”

“But it’s true,” she says. “It’s the transitioning. I sit in my bathrobe at home thinking, “I really don’t to go. I like it here with my mug of coffee. I love being all those places and even the actual traveling and getting there, but when I think about it—about actually getting up and starting the process??—there’s nothing less appealing. It’s like moving through Jello, wading through this sticky slow-motion world.”

What????

Talk about speechless. We’ve known each other forever and never knew this about her. In supermarkets, this is the woman with the right app to get her discounts, the right number of bags to get her groceries home, and the wherewithal to stock her cart in the order of how they will have to leave the cart in order to be bagged appropriately (by food category and where it will go when it gets put away).

“It’s true,” she insists again. “Just because I’ve got great organizational skills and have spent a lot of time and effort to offset the fact that I’m neuro-divergent, it doesn’t mean that I don’t go through those same ‘I wish I didn’t have to do this’ thing.”

L and I are really staggering from this new knowledge. We are all HSPs, of course, in our own ways, but L and I tend to require a whole lot less outside-world influence to feel happy, competent, and sane. You might say the introvert-extrovert analogy would work here, but honestly, it’s much more than that, because being sensitive to the transitions can cause a much different level of necessary coping strategies.

Yet, once again, as much as I don’t want to bang the HSP Toolbox, or the other tools I use, I can’t help it. When you’re aware, and I mean consciously aware, that you’re about to be in a transitional state, that it’s a definite (not made-up) shift of energy created by the physical world that affects your inner world, things change. You may not need help bagging groceries or remembering your passport, but what do you do when you do need help?

Use the handy tools in your toolbox, starting with your Psychic Octopus to stay in your own alignment. Then, as your activities have you interacting with the world, use your Unique Energetic Signature as a reminder to stay there.

Whatever tools you use, the premise remains: Transitions can be appreciated on their own merits, for the opportunities they bring, and the invitation they offer us to celebrate our journeys as HSPs.

The opportunity to take a sidestep.

A big one. Through the Jello.

For the better.

The post The Toughness of Transition When You’re an HSP first appeared on Elevate Your HSP-ness!.

I thought that writing on one topic every day would be a really tough call. What could I possibly have to say each day that would matter to me and all of you? I asked myself this question for the last couple of months . . . until today. Because I realized, suddenly, that the subject of high sensitivity is a never-ending fruit ripe for the picking.

Every day is a whopper-tunity!

Every day my life as an HSP offers me whopper-tunities to practice the tools I teach. To reach into my knowingness and my ever-evolving awareness and come up with some way of being in the world that doesn’t feel like a struggle, and instead feels like a cool puzzle I’m putting together. One minute it’s a relationship puzzle, the next it’s a dealing-with-negativity puzzle or a being-in-a-crowded-place puzzle. I may look like your average person going about her business, but inside? I’m doing everything I suggest to you.

1. I’m asking myself if my psychic octopus is out.
2. I’m asking myself if I’m soaking up someone else’s energy/emotions/thoughts like a psychic sponge.
3. I’m reflecting on whether I’m feeling aligned or like a twizzle stick on steroids.
4. If I recognize I’m not in alignment, I ask myself what’s affecting me, why I’m reacting, what I’m reacting to, and then deciding to get back into alignment.
5. Once I decide to get back into alignment, I pull out my trusty psychic octopus and get started.

It happened again today.

I was in the car with someone who was talking about all sorts of things that were wrong in the world. And, while I could not possibly disagree with her opinions on climate change and other important worldly events, I also felt myself shutting down so I wouldn’t take in that energy of “I hate this . . .” and “I hate when . . .” and “I hate when people . . .”. I felt my jaw tense as I clamped my mouth shut. I felt my breathing move high up in my chest. I didn’t respond because I could not even nod my head without feeling that I would be indicating I was good with how they were expressing what they were thinking…the frequency of the words alone was distressing.

You see, while I might agree that the world is going through a tough time, I believe there is a certain perfection in all of it, even in my own HSP-ness, and even in my friend’s need to express her discouraged outlook. So, I don’t want to nod along as if to say, “Yes, I feel that way, too.” If I do that, I will be vibrating in that same energy of discouragement and distress, which I know very well from experience, will only invite me to spiral down into a place I really do not want to be.

I am a committed self-guided HSP with an HSP-ness toolbox that rocks!

I love this person with whom I was traveling. I love my time with them. What I need to love more, however, is my alignment within myself. Because, as an HSP committed to celebrating my sensitivities and uplifting the world, I need to address that first before I can shine my own light.

And we all know you need a toolbox full of great tools to do that.

Let me know how you feel about this topic.

Because it matters.

Watch my short video on HSP-ness here!

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Private coaching sessions are also available here. Many more musical recordings are available here. My new novel The Gateway Café can be purchased here.

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

Thank you for shining your light into the world!

The post The HSP High-Sensitivity Everyday Toolbox (Heidi’s Playbook) first appeared on Elevate Your HSP-ness!.