What Do You Want To Be When You Grow Up As An HSP?

When I was about five or six, I decided I wanted to play the flute. From that age to about 30 it was my dream to be a great flautist.

From the time things went all kablooey and sideways with that dream until about 40, all I wanted to do was figure out what I wanted to do that I wouldn’t hate doing.

For the next seven or so years the best thing about work was leaving at the end of the day.

From the day that job ended and I began writing and editing and publishing books, I felt I’d found something I was not only good at, but creatively fulfilling. Still, I can’t say I felt as if I were me, completely doing me.

That’s why, when the other day a friend told me, “You’re just so Heidi,” and my response was, “And getting

every day,” I knew something big had happened.

Which reminded me of all the times over my lifetime that people asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up. No one, not even my parents, who supported me through flute and piano and theory lessons, were particularly enamored when their friends asked the question and I said, “I’m going to be a musician.” I mean, you could see their eyes roll. “Oh, that’s nice,” they said. Meaning, “Your poor parents.”

I decided to ask myself this long-honored traditional question again today. And no, we won’t get into the fact that I’ve of a certain age that might preclude that kind of question. Fageddaboudit.) Anyway, I closed my eyes and posed the question: Heidi, do you know what YOU want to BE when you grow up?

And do you know what the answer was? You coulda smacked me upside the head with a V8. Because what came out of my mouth was, “YES! Absolutely! I want to be more of me!”

I was so excited by my own spontaneous response that I did a little jig. It hasn’t been this way in the past, which is why it’s so important now. The thing is, that if you don’t really know who you are, how can you possibly want to be more of it?

How can you possibly go around thinking, “Well, this is so groovy. I think I’ll just go on being more of me and diggin’ it?” You can’t. And, while I’m absolutely positively no Pollyanna, I’ll take a moment here to give you just a taste of how much my life has changed.

What does “more of me” mean now? I love that I can say this. That I have the words to express what “more of me” means because I know it’s true—I FEEL it’s true. MORE OF ME means more capacity for love, ease, generosity, freedom, abundance, creativity, inspiration, joy, and the sheer doggedness to live a life of alignment.

So, if I were to ask you, my lovely HSPs, “What do YOU want to be when you grow up?” what do you think your answer would be?

That’s all for today, folks. Join me next time on the Celestial Professor channel when we’ll dig a little deeper into what makes us high sensitives tick.

And DON’T FORGET to join us for the very first Expert HSP Summit of its kind on Saturday, October 15 @ 1 PM PT

at https://youtu.be/McDwEL-ISMo

Heidiconnolly.com / hspness.com / f-b elevatingyourhspness

The post What Do You Want To Be When You Grow Up As An HSP? first appeared on Elevate Your HSP-ness!.

It’s Time to Elevate & Celebrate Your High Sensitivity with Heidi Connolly, the Celestial Professor!

**** Be among the first 10 people to join this event and you will receive a gift of a completely FREE 15-minute consultation with me, Heidi Connolly, author, intuitive coach, medium, and guided musician. ****

This is the Celestial Professor’s first HSP Summit with expert guests discussing their personal and professional experiences as Highly Sensitive People and how they’ve learned to amplify–and celebrate!–their own HSP qualities for a fulfilling and High-Frequency Life.

JOIN US SATURDAY, OCTOBER 15, 1 PM PT @ https://youtu.be/McDwEL-ISMo

It’s time to choose the life you want by learning what you need. What do I mean by that?

Most people talking about being “highly sensitive” are focused on coping with what feels like a “problem.” But I don’t believe that’s true.

I believe that only when we really begin to understand the meaning of sensitivity–the fact that it speaks to our divinely intuitive natures, our innate abilities, and our critical powers of heart-and-mind-partnered capabilities–are we able to become truly sovereign beings that can use our so-called “sensitivities” to uplift the world.

If you want to learn how, this summit is a good first step. All these speakers are HSPs, all have gone through challenging times to understand who they are, but, best of all, they have learned to utilize who and what they are for their own benefit and the greater good.

Guests include myself, plus:

Irene Weinberg, Grief & Rebirth Podcast;
Jill Lebeau, Spiritual Sandbox Podcast;
Claudia Helt, Center for Peaceful Transitions;
Sherri Cortland, Author and Speaker;
Dana Stovern, Magic of Somatic Money Podcast;
Heidi Winkler, Winkler Leadership Academy

. . . All experts in their fields, ALL HSPs, and all dedicated to uplifting the world.

heidiconnolly.com | f-b: hspness | blog: hspness.com. Upcoming new book: Elevate Your HSP-ness: How to Live a High-Frequency Life that Amplifies Your Vibration, Celebrates Your Sensitivities, & Uplifts the World.

The post JOIN THE EXPERTS FOR THE 1ST HSP SUMMIT OF ITS KIND!!! first appeared on Elevate Your HSP-ness!.

Welcome, my ever-evolving, amplifying high sensitives, to today’s bit of down-to-earth spirituality with me, Heidi Connolly, the Celestial Professor. If you feel moved by what you read here today, please share the information so other HSPs like you and me can shift into high gear to uplift the world together!!!

Today, our focus is something I call The Great Paradox.

The Great Paradox of being human is that the more you evolve spiritually, the easier being human becomes.

It might not sound like such a big deal, but just think about it.

You gotta love it. That the way to becoming a happier camper as a human being is to develop the side of you that’s beyond human. Beyond things. Beyond therapy. Beyond thought. How trippy is that?

You really gotta appreciate that the only way to get to a spiritually inclined place inside yourself, you need to get into that zone of silence where you enter thoughtless awareness. It’s like Maxwell Smart’s “Cone of Silence.” I know I’m dating myself, but Get Smart –the TV show?—was a thing in those days and watching that stupid glass “cone of silence” come down to protect confidentiality seemed pretty funny.

Going Beyond Thought

Anyway, the point is that, if you’ve gone beyond thought, when you return to the “real world” you feel it’s actually a little easier to be the human that you are.

At least, that’s the way it feels to me.

I call it The Great Paradox.

See, it’s like this. Every time I meditate, before I get anywhere near or close to that place without thought, what I have to do to get there is to focus, not on what I’m thinking, but what my body is feeling. I take steps to focus my mind on the things I’m feeling—physically, in other words, somatically in my body—to get there.

• I feel my jaw relax.
• I feel my eye lids sink inward.
• I feel my neck and shoulders settle.

I FEEL.

…And then my mind starts jabbering away, usually a running commentary about whatever it is I’m noticing that my body is feeling. And then, judgmental commentary on the fact that I’ve entered into commentary. Today is a perfect example.

There I am “trying” to meditate, and all I can think about is that I’m trying to meditate and that I don’t have that much time this morning to meditate before I need to start doing the things I need to do. It’s crazy, right?

What do I do? In my mind, I tell myself to focus on my body. (Which, again, feels like a paradox, since I’m trying to get away from all that supposed worldly stuff.) Anyway, that works for a second or two and then I start thinking about how tight my neck feels. Pretty soon, I’m dying to shift my position and give my neck a good crack. I fight the feeling for a while. Pretty soon, it’s all I can think about. So, eventually, and thinking about how much time I’ve “wasted,” I give in and shift around and crack my neck.

AAAHHH. Now I feel better. Now I can get back to meditating.

Right? And so it goes.

What does all this have to do with the The Great Paradox? It’s like this.

1. The one thing I want is to feel happier as a human.
2. The thing I’ve learned is that the only way to feel happier as a human is to connect with my higher self…source…God?…the infinite…the quiet…. The spiritual side of me. Or, should I say, the REAL being that is me?
3. The thing that has changed over time is that even on days like today when getting beyond thought seems impossible, I end up appreciating how good it feels to be on the path of conscious awareness.

I guess you’d have to say that The Great Paradox of being human—that is, spirit in a biodegradable human suit—is really made up of many paradoxes.

All of which are opportunities, or as I like to say, “whopper-tunities,” for my own evolution. And if there’s one thing I know, it’s that the more I evolve, the more the planet evolves.

Which makes me happy!

So…that does it for today’s installment of down-to-earth spirituality. If you’re interested in purchasing any of my books or in private intuitive mediumship sessions with me, visit me at heidiconnolly.com. And remember, “psychic” or “medium” or simply tapped into your intuition…it all gets us to the same happy place.

And don’t forget to comment, so we can share our awesome awakening to uplifting the planet by being the brilliant HSPs we are!

Thanks!. See you again here soon.

The post THE HSP’S GUIDE TO NAVIGATING THE GREAT PARADOX OF LIFE first appeared on Elevate Your HSP-ness!.

The cure to the HSP’s psychic sponge syndrome: Laugh!!!!!

I’m back today with another bit of down-to-earth spirituality. Today’s topic? Spiritual irreverence.

Can you handle the fallout if you’ve forgotten how to laugh?

It’s not every day that you find yourself doing something that causes an uproar of divergent opinions—and resultant advice. Well, at least it hasn’t been that way for me.

I mean, it’s true that “coming out” as a medium caused quite a stir. There I was, Harvard Girl, the writer, editor, book designing, publishing consultant of Harvard Girl Word Services, suddenly saying I was talking to dead people. So, I guess you could say that I know something about strong reactions. And we won’t even get into family. Telling your mother you’re hearing from good ol’ Dad? Mmm, turns out, not the best convo starter ever….

Anyway….

When I started writing books (with my dear departed husband) and talking about us all being Vacationing Angels, I learned pretty fast how to spot the dedicated, true-blue skeptics from the “well, I might be willing to hear more” type. I also learned, really really fast that it didn’t matter. That the only thing that mattered was being true to myself.

• Which brings me to today’s down-to-earth spiritual subject matter [slide of CP animation]
• When you’re true to yourself, you attract other people who are true to themselves.
• When you’re true to yourself, it doesn’t matter if other people agree with you or not.
• When you’re true to yourself, most of the people you attract are willing to listen to what you have to say, even if they end up disagreeing with it.
• When you’re true to yourself, you feel good.

Which…leads me to the title of my new book, Elevating Your HSP-ness….

I can hear you….

Go ahead. Say it out loud. Reading the words just doesn’t do it. When I spoke the title aloud for the first time, I couldn’t stop giggling. Naturally, I discounted its use. I mean, right? Who’d willingly, knowingly, use a word for a spiritual book about being a high sensitive that sounds like penis?  Not me!

After that, the title went through months of iterations. “The HSP’s Owners Manual.” “The HSP’s Roadmap to Greatness.” “Embracing your High Sensitivity.” The problem was that no matter how much these titles described what I was trying to convey, none of them made me FEEL GOOD. None of them resonated, vibrated with the frequency of YES!!! THIS MAKES ME WANT TO GIGGLE AND LAUGH AND FEEL JOYFUL!!!

My psychic sponge was picking up everyone’s opinion but my own.

I didn’t know what to do. I kept going back and forth, back and forth, buying domain after domain and reworking my potential book covers. What to do?

Ultimately? I did exactly what I talk about doing in this book: I let it go. I worked on other things—the writing, the blogs, the vlogs, all that stuff. And then, one day, I was talking to a friend and colleague (who just happens to be in my video Summit linked below), Jill Lebeau. When I mentioned all my potential names, she thought they were “fine.” Which we all know is code for BORING. Then, I said, “I wanted to name it Elevating Your HSP-ness, but you know, that would just be crazy. Too irreverent. What would people think?”

The reality is that my psychic sponge was too darn overloaded to check in with my own guidance–that Intuitive Guidance System we all have!

There was a moment of silence. Then Jill got it—and cracked up. She laughed and laughed and kept on laughing. I wasn’t quite sure what to make of it. But, finally, when she got herself under control, she said, “There’s nothing irreverent about bliss and joy in spirituality! We need to laugh to raise our frequency. And that’s what you’re talking about—living a high-frequency life! I think it’s perfect.”

It took me a while, but I couldn’t ignore the high vibration of what she said—and what I felt. So, yes. The name of my book is ELEVATING YOUR HSP-NESS. After all, I’m talking about “down-to-earth spirituality” here. And that means applying spirituality to everyday life as an Angel on Vacation. Celebrating those qualities of you that are the absolute highest frequency. Because we can’t spend our time “way up in the clouds” and live “down here” without some kind of mechanism that invites us to stay present. To use all our “up in the clouds”-ness for the express purpose of enjoying the earthly aspects of our being.

So I say go for it. I’ll be right there, laughing along with you in loving irreverence.

The post The cure to the HSP’s Psychic Sponge Syndrome: Laugh!!!!!! first appeared on Elevate Your HSP-ness!.

I’ve been an HSP for a long time. One might even say a very long time. So, I guess you could also say that I have a lot of experience when it comes to my HSP-ness. All those qualities that seemed to undermine me at every turn, every step of the way. Plus all the experiences I have undergone that have revealed all my sensitivities, each and every one, for what they really are: indicators of my amazing abilities to love, honor, respect–once I learned to use them, not let them abuse me.

The thing about sensitivities is that they often present in extremes. For example, if you’re hyper-sensitive to cold, you may be, as I am, hyper-sensitive to heat. If you’re hyper-sensitive to touch, you may be hyper-sensitive to the lack of it. If you’re hyper-sensitive to sound, you may be hyper-sensitive to the empty silence of quiet. Because we’re sensitive to everything. Just hang with 10 people saying nothing for a while and you’ll see what I mean.

Once again, yet another interesting conundrum for the Highly Sensitive Person. How can we rationalize the fact that we may be as uncomfortable in one set of circumstances and equally as uncomfortable in its apparent extreme opposite set of circumstances?

I can only share what I have come to realize.

On a societal level

We live in the age of soundbites and endless possibilities for distraction. Endless opportunities to fill the silence. If we don’t want to be alone with our thoughts, we almost never need to be.

On a community level:

Feeling  uncomfortable in crowds and/or social settings is typical for HSPs. Yet society teaches us that we are supposed to be good little children in the classroom and adept at navigating the world through some kind of inherent charm and know-how. If we aren’t, if we don’t or can’t or are not up to the task, we are made to feel small and inadequate. Our tendency is to seek out solitude rather than engage in frustrating attempts at socialization, even when solitude strikes a heavy chord of loss inside us.

On a familial level

Most everyone I’ve ever known suffers from the Family Syndrome: There’s nothing like being with family that could feel more comfortable, even if the circumstances are miserable; there’s something about having your expectations being fulfilled. While it might not feel like the good kind of comfortable, at least you know Uncle Joe might drink too much and Mom might tell you to get your hair cut. On the other hand, a family dinner can make you feel like running in the other direction so fast and so far that you’d never be seen or heard from again.

On a relationship level

I’ve often said that it’s important to be in relationship with someone you can be yourself with. Someone you can be with without saying anything, just being quiet and being comfortable at the same time. I still feel that way. But, more and more, *I’m realizing that it’s all about being comfortable with myself that matters. I don’t think I was ever truly comfortable anywhere, anytime, with anyone, until I became comfortable with my own being-ness, including my own HSP-ness.*

On a one-on-one level with self. See above*…Your relationship with Self is all that really matters.

QUESTION FOR THE DAY: 10 people go quiet at a party. Suddenly, things get really uncomfortable fast. What do you do?

• Do you rush to fill the silence?
• Do you pour another glass of wine?
• Do you make an inappropriate joke?
• Do you squirm in your seat and wish you were somewhere else?
• Do you make an excuse to leave the room?

There are different versions of quiet and different versions of noise. But there is only one version of you that matters.

The one that is in alignment.

It’s time to stop hiding and start Elevating Your HSP-ness!

Soon to be available at https://www.heidiconnolly.com

The post Is there such as thing as too much quiet when you’re a Highly Sensitive Person? first appeared on Elevate Your HSP-ness!.

I’m not being so emo on purpose—it’s just the way I am!

Yesterday I wrote about not being a victim by stepping into a new way of thinking. After further conversation with myself this morning during a meditation, I was reminded how resistant I myself was to this idea. I mean, who wants to admit that what happens to them might be due to something they are doing or thinking or being rather than charge it to someone else?

It’s like using someone else’s credit card. Sure, you’ve purchased the item, so now it’s yours, but who really did the deed?

Here’s what happened when my husband—many, many years ago (yes, while he was still in physical form, i.e., alive)—and I were having a—well, I’ll call it a discussion to be polite—knock-down-drag-out miserable-with-crying moment.

There’s a lot to unwrap here, so stay with me.

The whole thing started with Randy sharing something going on, something I’d apparently done, that was making him upset. At first I was sympathetic. I didn’t like seeing him upset or unhappy, and, being the empathetic, caring, HSP that I am, I expressed support and love and kindness.

At least that’s how I like to think it went. I guess Randy didn’t see it that way.

His take on it was that, after about a minute of “I’m sorry you feel that way,” I’d immediately launched into the “but” thing. You know.

• “I’m sorry you feel that way, but….”
• “But…it really wasn’t that big a deal….”
• “…I really didn’t mean it that way so you shouldn’t take it that way….”
• “…I can’t hear you when you raise your voice to me….” and
• “I don’t really care about how you feel because what really matters is that I defend myself against whatever accusations you’re making so that I turn the whole conversation around until you feel sorry for me.”

The defensive mode

My husband went on to say that playing the victim was not a viable option. That being in a relationship meant if one of the partners had an issue, the other one was to listen appropriately without jumping in to defend.

It was the first time in my life that I realized how that was exactly what I’d been doing. As soon as someone was triggered by something I’d said or done and told me about it, the only option I saw was to jump into defensive mode. To defend why I’d said it or done it or felt it or could excuse it.

He was right. And, honestly, it was mortifying.

There I was, crying my heart out, believing with all my heart, based on all the psychological baggage I’d brought with me into the marriage, that if my husband was unhappy it was all my fault, that I’d never fix it, and that he’d probably end up leaving me.

Um…yeah. So of course I’d get all defensive. What other choice was there?

The upshot

What happened? I got really, really quiet for a while. I realized I really didn’t know how to listen to “criticism” or “feedback” or whatever you want to call it without defending myself from what I thought the words meant or implied. They’d meant bad things were going to happen when I was a kid, so why wouldn’t bad things happen now?

From then on, my first question to myself when something came between us to work on was, “Am I listening or busy thinking of all the ways I’ll defend myself?” And I have never looked at potentially challenging conversations the same way again.

Before I end, I don’t want to leave you thinking that my husband’s insistence that something I did had “triggered him” was altogether in the clear relative to victimization either. Neither of us understood at the time that how we react and respond is our responsibility and no one else’s. While maliciousness is never excusable, if something occurs with good intention, isn’t it better to reflect on one’s own role first rather than leap into blaming the other?

In conclusion, whether we’re HSP, highly sensitive, or not, only we are responsible for ourselves, our triggers, and our responses.

The post I’m not being so emo on purpose—it’s just the way I am! 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!.

There was a giant sign at the end of a major thoroughfare in Boston where I grew up, that said, “If you lived here, you’d be home now.” The sign was advertising a high-rise building of expensive condominiums. As one writer (“Chad”) opined online, “These signs were placed strategically, almost sadistically, on Storrow Drive where they were seen every day by the thousands of motorists trapped in rush hour gridlock.” It’s true. You’d just spent however much time crawling inch by inch just in time to think, Wow. If I lived here . . . “

Still, I loved that sign. For some reason, I always felt as if it held some great meaning, some message for me, even though I never knew exactly what that was.

Then, as I came out of my meditation this morning, just a few moments ago, and found myself thinking about what I might talk about in today’s post, I heard, “When you’re here, you’re home.”

Which happens to be exactly the way I truly feel about so many aspects of being—and knowing—that I’m an HSP, a highly sensitive person.

Here’s the way I see it after a lifetime of HSP-ness. In other words, the progression of how my awareness around my own high sensitivity has grown, and how I have grown because of it, through the years.

1. Over time, I learned to recognize the trait in myself and others.
2. I learned that the more we understand the trait of HSP-ness, the more likely we are to celebrate it, as opposed to berating ourselves for it, especially when we can tie it to our best qualities, like creativity and spirituality.
3. I learned that the more open we are to embracing the trait of our own HSP-ness, the more we recognize that looking for support from like-hearted people is necessary, valuable the community it provides to sustain us and help us gain perspective if/when we feel we might be faltering.
4. I also learned that the more consciously aware we become about who we really are, the more in alignment we feel, the more at home we feel in our bodies, minds, and spirits.

When we truly feel “at home” in ourselves, whatever happens out in the world takes second place. That’s not to say it doesn’t matter, in the sense that we want and need a certain level and amount of connection and interaction to survive and thrive in the world. But being solidly at home in your own energetic field of vibration, in your own Unique Energetic Signature, offers you a self-perpetuating model for moving through life. No matter where you are or what you are doing.

• I’m at my desk: I’m home.
• I’m at the local café having coffee with a friend: I’m home.
• I’m on the phone with my mother: I’m home.
• I’m working with a client: I’m home.
• I’m hearing from a loved one on the Other Side: I’m home.

When you’re home versus when part of you has flown the coop

1. You may find yourself speaking more slowly, consciously, and conscientiously when you’re “home.”
2. You may find yourself listening longer, with a greater interest, curiosity, and less judgment when you’re “home.”
3. You may find yourself less emotionally and physically tired or stressed after your experiences, whatever they are, when you’re “home.”

Home: It’s where the mind-body-spirit connection is tied up with a bow and where you live, breathe, create, and thrive.

The post HSPs in Alignment: “When You’re Here, You’re Home Now.” 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!.

Message from The Celestial Professor, Day 2 in LA

I’m here! Started to post yesterday, but crashed after a drive back and forth through LA traffic to the Huntington Museum to experience a myriad of gigundo oil paintings (exemplary examples of pomposity and opulence rivaling Versailles (exaggerating, maybe, but still…). Magnificent grounds with floral scents in every direction; hot sun, slow meanderings.

Is it possible for me, an HSP, to feel at home in LA?

I’m with my two BFFs from Massachusetts, “L” and “J”. We met when we were all 13, just at that incredibly awkward age where everything feels insurmountable–or did to me. I’d seen both of my friends at least a few times through the decades, but they hadn’t seen each other for over 30 years. We’re having a three-day look-at-who-and-where-we-are-now reunion. It’s like being back in college: airbeds, bathroom sharing, wine (not boxed anymore) and yummy food (not just cookies and ice cream the way we might have done back then).

The first night one of the airbeds deflated and one of us ended up on the floor. Last night, though, after a trip to one of the big box stores for a new one, we got better sleep . . . snores, sirens, and dogs notwithstanding. Living outside Seattle, in Boston, and in LA, with our various families, jobs, and lives, makes it pretty challenging to time visits, so this is a really special one.

All well and good.

I’m feeling pretty fortunate at the moment because my friend J, who navigates the world—and I mean all its countries all the time, is driving the car, negotiating and navigating the sea of cars, all the while commenting on the different makes and brands, listening to her map app, and telling stories about her life with the aplomb and comfort of a happy ant going about the business of life. I am in the backseat watching the cars and buildings and highways and byways scroll by as if it’s a movie. All I’ve really ever seen of LA before has been in the movies, as a matter of fact, apart from a few trips down I-5 on the way south, so I’m pleased with my removed movie-goer position in the backseat.

Then it all falls apart.

It doesn’t take long, before that flowing, streaming sea of cars turns into a mass of scary, angry, swarming bees. Not for my friends, who are quietly conversing and such, but for me. I stop looking out the window. I focus on the floor mat. I tell myself to breathe. All the energies of all those people doing all that crazy driving at high speeds on the biggest highway system in the universe.

Meanwhile, J and L are gabbing away. J is switching lanes with great calm and finesse. L, whose eyesight is extremely poor, is coaching J since this is L’s town. It could be J’s town, too, for all her relaxed attitude.

I can’t believe how Zen they are. I also can’t believe how, in the twinkle of an eye, I’ve morphed back into the old Heidi, the one of crippling anxiety and heart-pounding trepidation. I feel as if I’ve disappointed myself.

Time for a good old-fashioned talking-to.

I take a drink of water and close my eyes. “Heidi,” I say sternly in my head, “everything is perfect. You are not driving. J is a fantastic driver who works in the auto industry doing research into traffic patterns and such. You are in good hands. Your psychic octopus is so far out it’s reached Oregon in one direction and Mexico in the other. Don’t you think it’s time to walk the old talk, to utilize all the tools you know and love so well?”

Slowly, slowly, I concentrate on my breathing and then focus on reeling in my tentacles, one after the other. I can’t believe how good I feel after only a moment or two. It’s like I’ve remember who I really am. Not the “me” of the past who is intent on suffering and “what-if-ing” all the horrible things that might happen (and surely will because they always do, don’t they?), but the me who has internalized and integrated the necessary knowledge and tools for peace, calm, certainty, and resilience.

Gratitude for my HSP-ness

It’s hard to put in words just how grateful I felt in that moment, and how grateful I continue to feel that, while I was having this experiential flashback, I made the conscious choice to change the channel from slasher movie to one on hummingbirds.

We’re back at L’s apartment again now and I’m reliving this as I’m writing it all down for you. My point? I will never not be a bona fide HSP. But now I know how to be it and love it.

The post You’re an HSP. In Los Angeles traffic. And you’re losing it. first appeared on Elevate Your HSP-ness!.