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life and reflection life of an empath Mental Health Perhaps...I'll Let You In poetry Writing

Work in Progress

Work in Progress

A freestyle

So many hearts need relieving

So many people out here grieving

Grand divide between kindness and greed

Between desire and need

Need a Savior to save us

A prayer to save us

Can’t hear cause no one’s respected

Volume loud so we’ve disconnected

Static coming from all directions, need some stable directions

Who’s really directing?

If I died today who’d record my number

Society still in a slumber

Everybody looking out for selves

 Good Book fell behind shelves

But they say, Bump yo’ feelings

Cause it’s all about freedom

Really need God’s Kingdom

And nobody’s listening, just noise and tension

Can’t stay woke  enough to pay attention

Can I get your attention?

Short distance between evil and good

Who’s really the villain? Who’s friend or foe?

Tell me how you really really feeling though.

Will I remain misunderstood?

Will you stay up to no good?

Folks out here dying and becoming numbers,

But bump your feelings,

Cause this is the territory of freeness, and freedom

And our toe tags say defiance

When did we get so defiant?

Can’t even cry no more

Have to cry quietly in my heart

Angels flapping their wings to a soul-less crowd

But bump yo’ feelings, or get a cardiectomy

Just because we have opposing opinions

And yours is right

And theirs is right

And mine is whatever you say it is

No matter the logic,

No matter the consequences,

No matter the souls who mattered to someone

Who mattered before they became numbers

When they were mothers and fathers

Sisters and brothers

And for what?

For what?

Categories
Art Artists collage Creativity

YOUNG ARTISTS

j lynn

2019

Categories
essays everyday living life and reflection Lists Mental Health Perhaps...I'll Let You In random Writing Writing and all its cousins

Trust Me We Feel You

Art is a form of expression. For writers, it’s how we interpret our environment and process things unsaid. I’m not sure if there is a correlation between empaths and artists, but I’d like to think that there is. To immerse oneself in any artform one must feel it first, I assume.

I set out to generalize this post, because my ever-so-keen youngest daughter said that all she heard when I was talking was I’s. She was right, although, at the time, I was venting, and there are only two people to talk to around here except, well, the walls. Nevertheless, there are a of lot of you(s) in this essay. That’s because empaths experience things profoundly. They don’t hear a song, they become a song. They don’t just watch Dateline; they remember Susan’s eyes and every detail of the crime scene. They can’t click on the news and turn the channel as if nothing happened. Every aspect of that newsreel carries over into their day and their night. Or is that just me?

I don’t think it’s just me, I think that’s the life of an empath who hasn’t quite figured out how to cope. Trust me, an empath, especially an emotional empath—as I discovered after keying into my search engine, “How to Survive as an Empath” and then taking a random quiz to find out which type I am—feels all of you. Peter Gabriel’s, I Grieve off the City of Angel’s soundtrack becomes a full montage that catapults you into the depths of despair, even if you aren’t initially sad (It does have an upbeat point, though. And then it goes morose again). The death of a person you never met feels like the loss of someone you’ve known, meaning you can still see Susan from that crime show in your mind’s eye, for weeks. 300,000 deaths, any death, feels like someone sucked the life out of you personally. It’s weird, it’s depressing, it’s draining.

Nevertheless, I learned something while reading articles online. A successful empath learns to listen and connect without internalizing. Let me repeat that: A sane empath knows how to relate without being an emotional sponge. Unfortunately, I’m a sponge. What does this mean? It means that I have soaked up my environment, failed to squeeze out my sponge, and become heavy. We can’t effectively help anyone when we ourselves are in an unbalanced, sponge-soaked state. But here’s the problem: folks rely on empaths. A lot.

What happens when you can’t be ‘the person’? Sometimes it causes discord, and sometimes…you drop the ball, epically. This brings me to another point I discovered while reading. Empaths need other empaths. When you’re supporting someone during a difficult time, that’s their moment. But to hold them up, you need someone to hold you up, so that you can hold each other up. I’ve always wondered how therapists master listening to people all day without taking on their patients’ issues. Maybe this is the key (and if it isn’t, dear therapists out there, do tell us how you handle this).

Here’s a list of things you can do to help find your balance, wring out your sponge, and maintain your sanity:

  • Keep a gratitude journal. This keeps you grounded and mindful of what’s good in the world.
  • Replenish yourself physically, spiritually, and emotionally. You can’t refill anyone else if you’re drained. Most importantly, realize that this isn’t selfish, no matter what you may hear to the contrary.
  • Find a constructive outlet. Take a nature walk, sing, paint, draw, write, sculpt—whatever brings you peace.
  • Create and Manage Your Mental Bin. This helps you assess what baggage is yours and what isn’t.
  • Accept and Acknowledge. If that is some of your stuff in the mental bin, acknowledge it. Figure out why it’s in there, address it (with a professional if need be), and process it. Skipping those steps can hinder your availability to someone else or make it difficult to be fully present.
  • Squeeze Out Your Sponge. If you haven’t graduated to step four or five yet, at least squeeze out your sponge so that it isn’t as heavy.
  • Seek out an empath, or two. Or three. Even ‘the person’ needs a person, or people, so that everyone involved has a healthy and balanced way of supporting one another.
  • Breathe. No, seriously, count to ten and breathe.
  • Flip the switch OFF. Take a television, phone, or social media break. After my dad died, I drove 30 miles out, checked into a hotel without telling anyone except my sister, and left my phone in the trunk of my car for two days. This wasn’t the safest thing to do, but it kept me from coming unhinged and brought me 48 hours of calm amid chaos.

Here are some articles I read while searching for ways to cope. Give them a browse:

http://www.keirbradycounseling.com/empath-and-absorbing-other-peoples-emotions/

How to Stay Emotionally Balanced If You’re an Empath (chopra.com)

Boundary Setting for Empaths — Andrea Leda

The Hazards of Being an Empath | Promises Behavioral Health

Hang in there, Empath.

P.S. City of Angels is an awesome soundtrack. One of my favorite albums of all time. And, although it is hard to choose, I Know by Jude and I Grieve by Peter Gabriel are my top two favorite songs.  Or is it Alanis Morissette’s Uninvited? Or Iris by the Goo-Goo Dolls? Definitely U2’s If God Will Send His Angels. I can’t choose…  Yeah, the whole soundtrack.

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prompts random Writing

Write It

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Creativity life and reflection poetry prompts Prompts for Writers random Writer's Prompts Writing

Lifetimes

from the prompt, Write a Message Poem

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everyday living life and reflection Perhaps...I'll Let You In poetry prompts random Writing

New World/Old World

a new world came, one i didn’t recognize

i closed my eyes not wanting to see

what emerged in front of me

until i realized it’s an old world,

one that never changed

73 million days of same

i wept we wept Jesus wept

on deaf ears and desensitized hearts

until grief swept us all away

sms/2020

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poetry

From the Archive

Love Is

I suppose as opposed to a prickly rose

Our love is like a baby that learns and grows

Stronger and wiser and more each day

Falling and getting up along the way

I suppose our love is neither hearts nor gold

But more like a tree among a grove

Its roots reaching farther than the eye can see

Its branches spread, protecting me

I suppose true love is a number of things

So much more than a wedding ring

A hug, a kiss, a mountain peak

A climb, a journey with you I seek

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Artists authors Creativity everyday living random Writing Your Turn

Yes You Can