I have noticed a distinct uptick in my clientele of people in the healing professions. From nurses in oncology units to physical therapists to massage therapists and, yes, even psychologists, we’re all looking for new ways to address old situations.

We’ve come a long way, baby 

Sure, we’ve come a long way. From Freud and Jung into a world of past life regressions and–for some courageous souls—things like Ayahuasca and mushrooms. The old methods are fine, at least for some things. It can be incredibly useful, for example, to backtrack through time to explore and assess why you are the way you are; why you became what you have become; why you feel the way you feel, etc. It’s just that there’s very little guarantee that all that exploration will ultimately guide you toward a significantly improved, i.e., happier, life. As I am the first to say, therapy can be fantastic. It was for me when I was in the midst of the crises that comprised my life, although, truthfully? It seemed like my life was one, long never-ending crisis. And, at that time, it was terrifying to think of seeking out therapy because society, at least the society I knew and of which I was a part, frowned on it so much.

“See a therapist? You’d have to be crazy!”

“We keep our private business to ourselves,” said my parents always told me. “You should be able to figure out what you need to figure out on your own. You have to learn to leave all this emotional crap (my word) behind.” “Shrinks are for crazy people,” said friends. “You’ll be labeled nuts forever.” The shame associated with seeking out help was crushing. The only thing that changed was my level of desperation, which ultimately led me to some wonderfully talented social workers, psychologists, and hypnotherapists, all of them helpful in their own ways and sharing their various perspectives. I believe my experiences with these people who give themselves to the art of healing had a great influence on the ultimate trajectory of my life.

What I did not understand was how many of us who are sensitives and end up in healing professions also end up losing ourselves while healing others. I am the perfect example of someone who naturally—intuitively—understands how people feel, which inspired me to help them. I had so much innate compassion and respect for their pain that I studied psych in school and started a master’s degree in social worker. The problem was that I felt so much of what people felt that I was a wreck myself. I had no way to distance myself from the pain unless I turned off my compassion, empathy, and sympathy. In other words, my high sensitivity . . . my HSP-ness.

Intuition as the gateway to healing

When you believe your intuition (what I call your IGS or Intuitive Guidance System) guides you in your healing practice, you are usually willing, no matter the repercussions, to take on whatever pain comes your way. I know physical therapists who receive information about where their client’s need attention in their bodies by feeling that same pain or discomfort in their own bodies. Unfortunately, such a practice cannot be endured forever. Before long the practitioner is experiencing their own pain. They have become conductors of the patient’s condition without being able to let it go.

I advocate a different approach. It’s not about letting the condition in and then having to let it go, but about receiving the information about it without taking it in in the first place. It’s the good old, never-fail technique again, the Psychic Octopus.

Staying aligned in your own energy does not preclude accessing the intuitive hits you want to help your clients. All it does is keep you from feeling what they are feeling in your own body, mind, and spirit.

It’s a win-win all the way around.

The post HSPs feel everybody’s else’s stuff–So why do are we healers? first appeared on Elevate Your HSP-ness!.