Light Power

Despair set in with the clouds covering the sun,

Withholding the radiant warmth for each one

All beings, all creation were drooping in pain

From the constant shadows, the cold, and the rain

When would the fog lift and give some relief

To the poor, tired, osteomalacious creatures in grief?

Cursing the heavens and stars up above

The beings all shouted and spited cloud-love,

“We’re dying, we’re sick, our bones are turning to dust!

We beg to be free of this darkness!  We must!”

But the one star in the sky responsible for

Sustaining the life of the creatures evermore

Replied with a muffled, cloud-covered tone,

“I am sick. You must fetch her. I’m dying alone.”

Confusion and chaos spread through the nation

The life warming force had a nauseous sensation?

Through the panic rode a mysterious dark knight

“Stop and think,” he ordered, “We will endure this plight.

We will find the sun’s cure, if it’s the last thing we do.

Our children’s futures depend on us. We must pull through!”

And with that he was off on his galloping steed

And the beings stood still, all taking heed

The dark knight, he rode on for days without end

Tiring his poor horse, for the earth he would mend

One night while he shivered in the cold on a log

It was there that he saw her, like a spark in the fog

A lost-looking being with scared, wide open eyes,

Long golden hair, fluid movements clearing fog in the skies

A yellow-white aura surrounded  her whole

The knight took in a breath as he peered through her soul

A creature of beauty, grace, and of glow,

She captured his heart, as his world began to slow

As she drew nearer, he shifted his gaze

And in that one instant he saw her sun rays

He had stumbled upon her, this was the one!

She was the savior of the poor sickly sun

“Come.” He said as he gathered her up

And gave her the sustenance from within his cup

“Do you know the sun? She’s not well, needs your light.”

The wide eyed young maiden nodded, “Alright…”

“You must go,” He insisted to her “and heal this ill,

All creatures depend on you, or death will be real.”

“The darkness has come for me,” the radiant one explained

“It took pieces of me and my light is now drained.”

Astonished, the knight took one look at her aura,

And then at the trail where her light greened the flora

“Your light is still with you, it surrounds your whole being,

Your movement lifted the fog, and a bright light I’m seeing.”

The glow of her aura began to burn brighter,

A smile crossed her face as her soul elevated higher,

And higher, up through the darkness and clouds

Up towards the sun, she flew clearing fog shrouds

As she drew nearer the sun, she felt her brokenness heal

And she looked down on the land at the beings now well

With one lightning bolt zap, the sun’s brightness revealed

And the earth and its creatures she had forever healed

The dark knight he smiled as he rode on through the green

The light-being not only had cleared the shadowy scene

She had opened his heart to light’s loving ways

Never again would he doubt the power of the sun’s rays.

© Summer H

My Priorities

I began loving the idea of social media and the internet when it first became available because I've never really had to opportunity to know what it's like to get the kind of love, acceptance, and support that the rest of the world does with my offline, "real life" family and friends.

Being an HSP/Empath is not being a real person to many people and the expectations are that I should just be non-highly sensitive and non-empathic. I guess these are valid expectations for the closed minded. But there are just some things that a person can't change about themselves.

I wouldn't want to change for anyone else if I could. It's not fair to even ask me to change. I know I have high expectations and I'm extremely passionate about growth and learning not only for myself but for others.  But I believe the disconnect is when others expect me to lower my standards to meet them where they are.

If I were to lower my standards to meet most people where they are or to be like most people, I would have to be more callous. I would have to be more uncaring. Being more callous and more uncaring and more unfeeling would be growing the wrong direction for me. If you can even call that growth... 

If others were to try to meet me where I am, they would learn to be more loving, they would learn to be more open.  Learning to be true and to love seems to me more like the direction a person would want to grow...

Psychologists have been finding out in their research that connection with others is very much needed for not only human survival, but for thriving. But I can't control what others want and how they want to interact with me. I wouldn't want to control it.

I had originally joined social media sites to find some others who maybe were capable of more than the people I knew around me.  But the people who love quieting truth speakers, and love quieting kindness took over the internet just like they do with everything else and I'm not too thrilled with the internet and social media now.

To me, it looks like one big ego feeding contest.  As an HSP/Empath, I don't enjoy living in the ego realm. I don't enjoy others who enjoy living in the ego realm. 

As much fun as it may seem to have your ego stroked, begging for approval and gambling away self dignity says a lot about a person. It says that they have little to no self-respect. It says that they have such low self-esteem, that they desperately seek the constant approval of others.  I imagine they always come out feeling empty too... 

This is the online world now. We've somehow morphed the absolute worst human qualities into mass sharing and as a whole given the message that these are our priorities as humans.  This is what you do to be one of us.

Maybe I'm here by divine mistake - It could happen!  Or maybe I'm from a different planet or from the future or the past...

It's isolating knowing that I continue to try with family and friends and the people I know offline and I continue to try with the people I've met online, never receiving the connection I desire. But it's become increasingly obvious that no one is interested in being authentic and no one is interested in authentic connections.  No one seems to have the life priorities I do.

I would ask you where you would go and what you would do to find the connection you needed if you were me but I realize that true, authentic connection is not very important to most of you.

I've never known a "Christian" to show up authentically...

I sit and wait quietly in the church gym. This church is as big as my entire neighborhood. It reminds me of every school gym I have seen, except this gym boasts money.

I watch the other moms as they sit down, walk around, get up and hug or shake hands with other women. Busy and bustling with every air of importance.

Perfect curls and painted faces…

Thoughts of comparison creep into my mind. Urging myself to stop comparing myself to these women I become distracted as I’m comforted by my next thought

I wonder what their secrets are…

Having been near religious people my whole life, I know that the focus is The Appearance. 

Hell, it’s the focus for everyone these days religious or not. But I’ve noticed that the religious ones seem to have more of a certain perfection status to live up to.

Unfortunately, often this “perfection” is only for the benefit of "the church", disguised through the religious preachings

As love.

My self-deprecating thoughts are lost as the thought creeps up on me:

Everyone has secrets.

I look around, trying to imagine what everyone’s secrets are. What are they not saying? Who are they pretending to be? What are they hiding behind those perfect curls, that "humor",  the mask of makeup so perfectly applied….?

Absurdly, the speaker is speaking on Authenticity while these thoughts tumble around in my brain unending.

Authenticity.

Showing up.

Being vulnerable.

Showing your whole self to the world not just the parts you think they want to know about. Not just the parts you think you want to know about.

I wonder how many mothers in this room ever show up authentically...I doubt it's many.

How many people, in general would even recognize The Authentic much less appreciate it should it be right in front of them...

Parenting Isn't About Me

My kindergartner has a color code for behavior in his classroom.  Each student has a clip with her or her name on it and everyday they begin the day with their clips in the very middle color.  

The chart goes from red (being the worst behavior), through purple (being excellent behavior). Each day, due to each student's individual choices, he or she will lower or raise their clip accordingly.

I picked up my son a few days ago and he could barely contain his excitement.

"Mom! Mom!  Guess what?" he exclaimed as I picked him up from school. 

"I went to purple today!"  He said, beaming.  

This was a bit of a surprise for me as he is not a bad kid but he does usually have trouble listening and focusing in a school type of setting. I asked him what he did to deserve his clip being raised to the highest color. 

The whole way home he told me about making good choices, getting his work done on time, and listening.  

I praised him almost the entire ride home.

That night I was checking my email and I saw that I had one from his teacher. I opened it feeling good, thinking I knew what it was about.

In the letter she had written:

I just wanted to let you know that (your son) had to drop his name to red today. The principal was not involved but the behavior was that he was goofing around and not doing his work. He had to be repeatedly reminded not to continue the behavior.

I was stunned.

Then I was mad. I was so mad. I couldn't believe that my own sweet son had manipulated me. I felt like I wanted to take back all of the praise I had given him earlier. 

I was hurt. I felt betrayed and it was probably one of the worst feelings I've received from one of my children.

I told him that his teacher had emailed me and that he needed to go to time-out. The time-out was as much for me as it was for him as I needed some time settle my angry feelings and to think about why he had possibly done this.

I also knew that I needed to separate my frustrations with what was actually going on with him.  Reactions are usually based on our own emotions. Not on taking care of others. And I needed to sort through my intense feelings so I could clearly understand his.

I came to the most empathetic conclusion that I could. My son had had a bad day. He may have been having strong emotions that he didn't understand coupled with the fact that school does not cater to young boys whose last wish is to sit still for hours on end and listen and focus.

I realized that my son had reached out to me for the words of encouragement he had been lacking.  

I knew what I needed to do.  I went and got him out of his room and told him that I understood that he lied to me because he was afraid that I would be upset with him. I told him I understood that he wanted my praise more than my disapproval. 

I also told him that I wasn't mad at him for dropping his name to red. I was mad that he had lied to me. I told him that even though I understood why he lied to me, that it was not okay for him to lie like that.

I do wonder sometimes if I'm too hard on my kids. I wonder if my expectations are too high for them.  I'm not upset that he made this mistake because I realize that him making mistakes now is the best time to make them. 

As we get older, the consequences for our mistakes increase greatly and life is not so forgiving.

Be You

I was talking with a friend the other day and I admitted that I knew how this friend felt about something. I said, "You can deny it. But I feel it. It's true."

This person admitted to me that they didn't deny it. They also admitted a great, valuable insight and truth that I will hold onto.

They said, "I won't lie to you. I know if I did, you would see through it anyway."

These words hit me. They were true. 

I thought about what my friend had so vulnerably shared with me and I realized that this right here is most likely the number one reason that most people keep away from me and never dare to get close to me.  

I imagined what it must be like to be another around me, to be others who know me. It would be scary! Especially if I were a person who normally wasn't in touch with my thoughts, feelings, and emotions. Especially if I were a person who was in the habit of lying to myself.

In my experience, the people I've just imagined being in the heads of are the majority of people I've ever met in life. Before my friend had been honest with me about this, I had never imagined that my personality, my life choices regarding interpersonal relationships would be so scary to others.

I never understood what it was about me that compelled others to run the other direction at a moment's notice.  It was difficult to understand when all I do every day is simply show up.  I show up without lies, without insecurities, without facades. 

How I behave around people, what I say, how I appear, that's the real me. I do know when people lie to me. I don't know why yet but I do understand that when the world tells you to live many lies, why someone who doesn't give into that and also sees the truth in everything would be threatening.

I'd tell you I'm sorry but I'm not. I'm not sorry for being real. I'm not sorry for showing up. I'm not sorry for seeing and speaking the truth.  I am sorry that others don't possess enough courage to simply show up as I do but I can also understand how scary it might be.

Showing up real is vulnerable.  And being vulnerable is uncomfortable. When we're vulnerable, we lose our sense of being in control and we no longer appear to have all of the answers.

I am vulnerable. I realize that others are vulnerable too. Others realize that they are vulnerable and that I see them for who they are whether they want me to or not.

I am so grateful for the honesty of my friend. I can assure you that I don't intend to be scary. I can assure you that I won't harm you should you take that risk to show up with me. 

As scary as me seeing you is for you, I'd like to remind you that I'm also highly empathetic and wouldn't dare do anything to harm you for simply being you.

♥ s.h.

One Of The Best Things About Being A Mom

My seven-year-old was telling me about the "shot heard around the world" yesterday.  He told me that, "It started the American Revolution".  

I asked him, "So what does that mean?"

He didn't quite get what I was saying at first and he gave me a confused look.

I said, "So what was the Revolution?"

(I like to test my kids to see if they really know what they are talking about or if they are just spouting things they've heard off.)

He started talking about the "red coats" and the "minutemen" and how "They were mad because they threw away the tea."

I asked him. "Why did they throw away the tea?"

He said, "Because they didn't like the tax on it."

I asked him if he knew what "tax" meant.  He did.

I asked him again. "So what was the Revolution?"

He told me it was "The Declaration of Independence from 'the red coats'."

I am so proud!

Understanding HSPs

A major difficulty that is unavoidable to an HSP is the double standards placed on HSPs by the rest of the world.  I imagine most people in general can relate to some sort of double standard within their personal or professional lives. Double standards are everywhere in our world today. 

For the HSP it's a little different though and almost bordering on the non-HSPs being downright abusive. 

In this dynamic the HSP is forced out into a world that is nothing like them, doesn't cater to them, and worst of all - believes (or denies) that they do not exist.

The HSP is a gentle soul with enormous amounts of compassion and understanding for the human condition. The HSP is vulnerable to feelings and sensations of all different kinds. From the emotional twinges and upsets to sensations that stimulate the nervous system causing physical, biological reactions in the body.  

The world is seemingly oblivious to (or denies) the fact that people like this do actually exist.

The world defines success as basically plowing over everyone else to get what’s important – or what non-HSPs want.  The world defines success as how "untouchable" a person is, can be, and appears to be.  

HSPs have been forced to define success as not having a day that overwhelms them to the point of complete and total emotional, mental, and physical exhaustion.

The non-HSP will tell the HSP to just "not be so sensitive" or to live in the world the way that non-HSPs live in the world.  When the HSP tries to do this, it doesn't work. HSPs do not live or function the way that non-HSPs do. 

The things that most people miss or pass right by, the HSPs sense with their whole beings.

HSPs struggle greatly in a world that places value on popularity, power, and cruelty.  To HSPs, these things are trivial and are not attainable to them because of their sincerity and astuteness – not that most HSPs actually want these things. (And also because to non-HSPs, there is "something wrong" with a person who is aware, sincere, and loving.)

HSPs are observers. They understand the minutia in interpersonal relationships.

For example, they have taken the time to observe how their neighbor is creating excitement for herself by getting worked up about the small things.  How the same neighbor talks to other neighbors with these "problems" as if they were the most important, exciting details in all of life.

The HSP notices how as the neighbor talks and gets worked up with her own words, her eyes hold a deep sadness and the feeling of emptiness and insecurity illuminates out of her as if her body were surrounded with an aura of desperateness.

The HSP notices how the woman at church who is always giving examples of how she is an amazing Christian, is really insecure with a deep self-loathing and seeking the approval of everyone around her.

The HSP doesn’t only notice these things but the HSP feels for these people. The HSP wonders why they are so willing to deceive themselves.

For what? The HSP wonders. 

The HSP knows how difficult it is to allow themselves to feel in this world but the HSP prioritizes that over betrayal to one’s self.

HSPs are constantly cultivating awareness in the way that they pay attention to small details like how a person can be physically smiling but upon closer examination, how there is a wet heaviness in their eyes. The pupils are round and full in the center of the iris. Upon close observation, their forehead is scrunched up, the skin pulled taught up towards the hairline. The HSP knows that even though this person is smiling, they are not genuinely happy.

The HSP even understands the fear and denial of living wholeheartedly with an openness and vulnerability to everything.  The risks are great for non-HSPs. They might lose their power, their status, or their popularity. For what? To simply show up. (Something that is not of value to the non-HSP.)

The HSP has empathy for people who choose to live with walls built around their hearts and souls.  Though the HSP does not understand why non-HSPs have to disregard the HSP’s choice to be true to themselves and live courageously, allowing themselves to not only feel the depth of the unpleasant feelings but also to feel the height of the most pleasurable life experiences.

The HSP understands that emotions were meant to flow through humans.  The HSP understands that building walls feels safe and comfortable but it also cuts humans off from the extreme joys that life has to offer as well.

~ s.h.

Jihadi: A Love Story (Excerpt) Review

I gave Jihadi: A Love Story (Excerpt) five stars. In the beginning, the story was a little confusing and difficult to understand with the author’s unique but abrupt perspective shifts.  Even so, the book is riveting and will have readers on the edge of their seats with utter curiosity and mystery surrounding the lives of several “dead guys”.  The genius of this book is that it’s written with the stark opinions of its characters while the author somehow tugs on the strings of the reader’s own deepest, darkest emotions.

http://www.amazon.com/JIHADI-LOVE-STORY-2014-Entry-ebook/dp/B00JOU2M3A/ref=cm_cr_pr_product_top

Everyone's Responsibility

My kindergartner has a crush on one of the little girls in his class.  He's come home on more than one occasion and told me how much he "loves" this little girl.  
The other day at pick-up, his teacher asked me to stay a few minutes while she informed me that my son was "really into" this little girl. I nodded and smiled in agreement. 

She then told me that my son had been touching her hair and trying to hug her and the way she put it was, "getting into her personal bubble".  

My son has always been an affectionate little guy so this wasn't surprising to me but I could see how it would be annoying if the other person was constantly being subjected to it and needed a little more space.  I told my son's teacher that I would talk to him about it.

On the way home from school I told my son that I understood that he was a very loving person and that this little girl was really pretty but that if someone asks you to stop doing something, you need to respect that boundary and stop doing it. All he said was, "Okay." But he looked sad.

The next day at drop-off, I saw the little girl's mother and I told her what was going on and I assured her that my son was not doing any of this to be mean or to harm anyone. That it was just his nature. I also told her that I talked with him about respecting people's wishes and boundaries.

I wasn't  surprised when she told me that she had talked with her daughter too, but I was surprised at what the conversation had been like. The little girl's mother told me she asked her daughter if she had asked my son to stop. The little girl admitted to her mom that she hadn't. She had gone straight to the teacher.

Some of you readers know me well enough to know what my issue is with this.

After talking with this little girl's mother, I wondered why her girl didn't feel comfortable telling someone to simply stop.  This bothers me greatly because we can't just expect others to know what we want or need. We need to tell them. Humans need to express emotions so that other humans know just what our personal boundaries and wishes are.

It's never too early to learn this.

Ever.  

The sooner we begin teaching our children about effective communication, the better off in life they will be.

Now, the second part of this story is that I received a call from the school the other day. It was my five-year-old's teacher calling to tell me that my son had pushed another boy in the bathroom. She had sent my son to the principal's office. She told me that the reason she sent him to the principal's was the he had so recently had issues with keeping his hands to himself.

I explained to her that pushing someone and touching someone affectionately were two different things, unrelated to how the other person took it. I explained to her that I talked with my son about respecting people's wishes regarding touch.

My mom sense was kicking in and something didn't feel right about this. I didn't believe that my son would just push someone, unprovoked. I expressed this to his teacher.She told me she would try to talk to the other child and find out more information.  

But this incident stayed in my mind all day until I went to pick up my son from school. I stayed after to talk with his teacher and see if she had found out any other information.

She told me that she had talked with the other student about it and with the principal and they had all come to realize that the most accurate situation they could come up with was that my son had been trying to hold the bathroom door open for this child and that it was too heavy. The door had started closing on my son (he's a pretty little guy) and as a result, my son had accidentally knocked this other kid into the wall.

Hearing this was relieving in a way. My mom senses had been right. But something still wasn't right so I investigated those thoughts.

These are the problems that I came up with.  The solutions are not hard or out of reach for any of us but the willingness for teachers and other parents to understand this or accept it or even admit it is what I worry about.

1.  It is everyone's job to teach our children that it is okay to communicate with other people. We don't need to go to an adult and "tattle" if it's something regarding our personal boundaries.  We go directly to the source first.

2.  A zero tolerance bullying policy does not mean that we as teachers and parents do not make the effort to look into the entirety of the situation. It does not mean we blame one child based on one experience. (This is just as bad as actual bullying, people.)

3.  Keeping our hands to ourselves in a situation of affection is different than pushing someone for no reason at all. (You can't even compare the two.)

The norm needs to change. I do not like how children are learning (most-likely from their parents) that using an accident of someone's kindness is perfectly acceptable and okay to use to turn the system's zero tolerance bullying policy around so that the bullies are now becoming the "victims". 

I am very upset and disappointed that this is even happening. I think it would be wise for the school system to reevaluate and really find out what a "zero tolerance bullying policy" really means and really looks like for everyone.

Zero tolerance of bullying means that this is a serious issue that is everyone's responsibility.

Novel Excerpt

© Summer H

“What are you…? She said, almost whispering, in wonderment.  The dragon did not take its yellow eyes off of Serenity as she approached nearer and nearer. It was hard for Serenity to believe that she was this close to a real, live dragon!  As she inched nearer she could see the beast’s scales.  The different colors.  The sheer mass of this beautiful being.  The dragon had a skinny neck and small ears perched on either side of its face.  Its head was small with two great yellow eyes and a snout with giant nostrils and large, sharp looking teeth.  The dragon’s head, neck, and abdomen was skinny except for the middle portion that appeared to be long and lean. It had four legs with long, sharp yellow talons on each foot and a long, tail with colorful iridescent, red-hued scales decorating the length of it.
 
Serenity could not believe that she was about five feet from the dragon now.  Just a few more steps and she would be able to reach out her arm and touch it!  Touching a dragon had never been on her life list of things to do. Until now.  As she got closer, she could almost feel the pain and the fear emitting from this giant beast. She could almost imagine what is was that the dragon was enduring. Serenity also detected a hint of sadness.  The dragon grunted again, keeping its eyes fixed on Serenity.  This being could kill her in an instant. Serenity knew that. But the weight, the emotional burden this being was carrying, wasn’t right.  Serenity didn’t know why or how the dragon had come to be tied up like this but even she knew that a creature such as this one, did not belong on a chain.
 
Serenity was now close enough to touch the dragon.  Slowly, making sure not to surprise or to appear threatening, she lifted her arm and reached out, touching the dragon’s front leg. She was surprised at how smooth the dragon’s skin was.  It was scaly and a little rough if rubbed the wrong way but rubbing the scales as they lay naturally, she felt the sleek smoothness.  
 
It reminded her of when she was a kid, and she and Walter would go up to the lake. They’d take a small boat out on the water.  She remembered how Walter had helped her thread the bait onto the hook and how he had helped her cast out the line.  They had caught some small rainbow trout that they had tossed back. But Serenity remembered the feel of the wiggling, writhing fish as she unhooked its mouth from the fish hook.  She never liked the way they wiggled and squirmed but she remembered the smoothness of the fish when the scales were rubbed down the way they sat.  Rubbing them up, they were tough, rigid and sharp.  The dragon’s skin reminded her of her early fishing days and the way that the fish felt in her hands, except not as wet.
 
The dragon was still eyeing her with a sharp, yellow gaze.
 
“That’s it,” Serenity coaxed in a calm voice, “I’m not going to hurt you.” She said softly as she stroked the dragon. The dragon turned its head towards Serenity.
 
Walter watched, eyes wide, not daring to move or even breathe.  Serenity kept her focus on the beast before her.  “That’s it, that’s it…” She coaxed as the dragon lowered its head.  The dragon’s head was almost low enough for Serenity to grab hold of the metal collar around its neck.
 
“Who did this to you? Huh?” Serenity cooed as her hands met the collar on the great beast. She searched the collar with her hands. It was thick, made out of metal. Serenity guessed it was about two inches thick all the way around.  Serenity didn’t know how they were going to get the collar off. She felt the cool metal of the collar in her hands, still softly cooing and coaxing the dragon. She wondered how someone had gotten the collar on this beast in the first place.  It didn’t feel like there was a latch.  Maybe a keyhole…
 
Just as Serenity was searching for a keyhole, the dragon jerked its head back up with a piercing screeching sound. Serenity tumbled as she was thrown a few feet away by the dragon’s sudden jerking upwards....

© Summer H