I’ve made a decision. I’ve decided to stop running from the truth of who I am. WHAT I am. I am what is called, an “Empath”…
It’s nothing eerie, mysterious or mystical. It just means I’m tapped deeply and highly into emotions and spiritual vibrations. It means, that what people around me feel…I feel. It’s not just emotions either…it’s the physical pains, aches…things of that nature.
Let me start by demystifying what an Empath is. I’m no witch, gypsy, or pagan ritualist. I am a human being with the capacity to feel and “empathize” strongly with other people. Click here to read a little on what an Empath is and goes through. (I’m sure you heard of the fact that humans on average use 8-10% of their brain’s capacity. Geniuses use anywhere between 15-25% or more. Think of what you would be capable of if those percentages increased.)
Anyway, as I was saying…
I often have moments where I meet eyes with people in public and I just start tearing up. I may see a couple and become overrun with emotions. It can be the happiest of feelings…or it can be sadness for what’s hidden beneath. It’s a burdensome gift at times. I get easily pulled into people’s dramas and lives because I am a sponge for emotional energy. Always the helper…I can be the one who sticks around when all the doors are blinking EXIT in neon red. I don’t like to quit on people, so I stay longer than what is required of me. What I’ve learned though, is that no one should be a “sponge” for anyone. Do you know what a sponge does? Of course you do. A sponge’s purpose is to clean, absorb and then be wrung free of it’s excess. That is it’s cycle. There’s no other life for a sponge…other than to dry up and become useless. I’ve also learned that sometimes it’s not really quitting…it’s self-preservation.
There have been times when I’ve just had to close off the outside world for a few days to get a handle on my emotions. I do NOT watch the news…a political faux pas to some…emotional stability to me. I’ve sat in heaves of tears after seeing news broadcasts with people being senselessly killed, raped, harassed…and it’s really killer to see a family member or friend being interviewed with tears streaming. I’m gone. Any thing can set off my emotions…so there are times, in order to distinguish from what is MINE and what is someone else’s…I need down time. I’m not somewhere tucked into tears. I’m listening to music, writing, watching a good comedy for laughs. I’m doing what I love to do in my spare time without intrusion. Sometimes, I’m just napping my way through…being Narcoleptic makes me even more susceptible to the emotions. High and deep emotions make me sleepy…and sleep repairs.
I’m glad that I have the kind of friends who don’t take personal, the time I take off. Rather than assume something is wrong between US…they make sure something isn’t wrong with ME. I’m outgoing, talkative and humorous most times…but, I reserve for myself the times when I need to decompress and shake off all of the tears, frustrations and trials of those around me. I know that when I’ve returned to myself…my friends and family return to me as well. That is important for a “feeler” and someone who has the ability to tap into things before they take place…to have a good support team. People who understand, recognize and respect their gifts.
I hope that this glimpse into me isn’t met with whispers of “she’s crazy” (I’ve gotten that WAY too many times to count). I hope it’s met with compassion for my compassion. If it isn’t…oh, well. This is who I am and I won’t apologize, clarify or mask it for someone else’s comfortability. I’ve been doing that way too long.
We came. We ate. We conquered…several helpings in one day. Turkey Day aka Dia del Pavo 2010 was good.
People lost their feet in the dishes served up with consistent goodness. My sister, who was sick and couldn’t even smell or taste still did a wonderful job. She complained that she couldn’t tell if things were good. I reassured her (before even tasting) that things would be fine. When you cook from memory and not recipe…it’s consistent every time…unless you get heavy-handed or you experiment. I very rarely taste food in the process. By eye, I can tell what’s just right.
I didn’t cook this year. I peeled potatoes for potato salad and that’s it. Pots, foiled pans and plastic containers were filled with individual contributions for yesterday’s dinner. I was particularly looking forward to the mac-n-cheese made by sis and the stuffing made by mom. I also had a hankering for the smoked turkey my grandmother orders from Fiji every year. As usual it was good…even though this year…he was a tad skinty. Someone didn’t feed that fowl. O_O
My grandmother came out of her comfort zone (barely) and spent the night over. On the other hand, she had us watching back to back court television. O_O Then game shows O_O LOL. My grandmother can be a tad rigid in her routine. VH1Soul was on when we entered my sister’s house…and immediately…it was too loud. ::good ole grandma:: 🙂
Eventually, we got into a movie…Grown Ups (to which my grandmother excused herself and went to bed, lol). We laughed at that. Actually, the first movie up for viewing was “Eat. Pray. Love”, but my cousin and grandmother heckled from the peanut gallery until I told my sister to put in the comedy. Since I’m actually in mid-read of Eat. Pray. Love…I thought maybe that was a good thing so that I could read first, watch next. *still rolling my eyes at them* lol
I have to say…not hearing my other grandmother’s voice on that day was…quiet. Even if I didn’t always get to SEE her…I always called and had her run down what she’d cooked and served. If folks visited…If she’d gone out. She’d ask the same. If Thanksgiving landed me in her town, I’d try my best to get someone to take me to see her. There was a bottomless, irreplaceable void this year. I called my dad…knowing this is his first holiday season without her, too. He’d spent it with his brother and sister-in-law. I was glad for that. I hate that we live so far and that my inability to drive puts me so far out of the way of visiting frequently. Maybe a lunch date with dad is in store soon. I’ll invite him up and we can go to Applebee’s or some dad-friendly spot. lol
I was very thankful for the time I got to spend with my mom, sis, her boyfriend, my aunt, my cousin, his girlfriend and my one remaining grandmother. Even in her sometimes unbending ways, I still smile at her when she isn’t looking and shake my head. She’s 77…she’s not going to change. What CAN change…is her being here. So, I just bite my tongue and let her do what she does and be happy for her getting on my nerves and everyone else’s nerves…because one day, we’ll bargain for a chance for her to stand tight-rope style on our last, thin nerve.
I hope you all enjoyed your holiday…sorry for the day late, dollar short blog on the holiday. Took me a minute to write it. lol
I am sitting here watching “Alice in Wonderland”…and perhaps even though I may be over-analyzing…there’s still a very good point. I think. LOL
I noticed that as the “Red Queen” was being fitted for the Mad Hatter’s hats…all of her court was around telling her lies. How beautiful she looked. How she’d never looked better. All of a sudden, one woman’s nose fell off (reminded me of a Pinocchio moment)…well, her fake nose fell off. It’s like she was pretending to be grotesque and unattractive. The Mad Hatter pointed out that her nose had fallen off and she quickly scooped it up and placed it back onto her face…but as she was bending, The Hatter saw the man behind her. His stomach over-sized, but seemingly sewed on…or was it his pants were sewn to him…either way, a thought crossed my mind…
Was the Red Queen aka The Queen of Hearts, requesting of her court to appear to her disfigured? Were they encouraged to pretend to be ugly so that she wouldn’t feel bad about her “bulbous” head? (live update: They’re all revealing there truer selves and being revealed as “cheats” by the Hatter…perhaps I blogged in haste) LOL
SO…anyway, that STILL brings me to my analytical point of the night. Who is so insecure about their own shortcomings, that they request of people around them (beautiful/smart/healthy/functioning) people…to dull their shine to accommodate their own insecurities? Not forgetting to mention…that as much as this is a statement of the Red Queen’s inability to deal with her own abnormalities…it is also sad that others are so in need of acceptance of someone who seems to be powerful, that they’d live a lie to fit in.
I see it all of the time. People with a “following”. Women and men who have loyal subjects instead of loyal FRIENDS. A flock of mindless sheep willing to say an untruth dipped in sap, to make the object of their adulation feel better. It’s criminal to think that people sit uncomfortably in their own skin to be accepted by others who are equally uncomfortable in theirs.
I would hope that anyone around me would feel like a “kween” or king…and not someone bowing for my assent. I love everyone. Misfits even more. I dig the quirky, odd-shaped, misunderstood “underdogs”. I always feel as if they’d have a better chance at accepting me as well with all of my idiosyncrasies…as opposed to someone who is addicted to the perception of perfection. In need of adulation so dysfunctionally that they live off of delusions.
S/N: I even noticed that the Red Queen had a crush on her guard, whom wasn’t the bit interested in her. He, on the other hand was attracted to the very large, Alice. In her jealous rage, The Red Queen ordered Alice and all of her cohorts beheaded. ~sigh~ Such a hater…with her big ass head.
Hmmm…epiphany. Perhaps the Red Queen’s head was so large, because she had a puffed sense of self. A huge ego…with no real founding. Using feeble minded characters to do her dirty work and feed her complex.
Okay…it’s time for me to quit pontificating over this movie…I’m missing the good parts. LOL
It’s been on my mind for a minute. I see SO many things that I never speak on. I figure, who the hell cares what KWEEN thinks? You know? Like who am I? Well damnit…I’m THEE KWEEN. THAT’S who. (Well, of this page anyway)…what? Was that too arrogant? *snickering*
Honestly…I have been seeing an onslaught of the I’m-too-good-for-that folks. Crashing ashore like a wave of righteous indignation, is the new “IN” thing…to fly above. Kandi was onto something good…flying above all the haters. Some fly above to look down. SOME folks have gotten to the point where it’s out of control. Flying above and looking down is a disaster for plowing head first into a cliff unseen.
We’re all constantly growing…unless you’ve taken up residence in stagnant waters. There, no roots can attach. Even if you do manage to attach to something…you’re still weakly tethered and susceptible to the tide. If you’re resting on some knowledge, some accomplishments and using that as a spring board for pulling everyone else down for sport…shame on you.
The Holy Cow Syndrome:
Do NOT get this twisted with having confidence or even COCKINESS. This brand of syndrome is so deeply embedded in the individual’s psyche that cockiness is too light a term for what they suffer from. Is it that too many people have said, “You’re great”…and rather than pass off accreditation to a Higher Power (whomsoever they believe in) they take on a hyped up persona of themselves? Perhaps it’s delusions of grandeur. Maybe it’s a puffed sense of self…an escape from the reality of life and it’s traumas by retreating into the grandiosity of their own concocted power. Who knows! All I know is that humble pie with a side of crow is meal they’ll dine on sooner than they know.
Where’s the humility? There is none. Everything is about them. Their accomplishments. Their capabilities. Their over-standing. It’s inescapable that before you leave their presence, you may possibly feels snubbed, annoyed or both.
I rarely see humility nowadays. Gratitude either. I’d love to see some people come out of their own revelry, long enough to give a second glance to someone who deserves it. I’d love to see people accept people for what it is they like, love, want to be. I’d love to see the political minds not be so judgmental of the artistic ones…and vice versa. How about, not imagine that your way is the only way and that every other method is beneath you? How about stop “keeping it real” and understand that what is REAL is that every thought, thunk…doesn’t need articulation. Every opinion founded…needs no soapbox. If I counted every thought that came to me…that DIDN’T get spoken/written…there’d be several volumes of books dedicated to the minutiae of snap judgments.
I’d love it if there wasn’t competition for whose thoughts are more profound, whose works are more ingenious, whose life is more fulfilled. It could benefit us all if we read/listened more and spoke/posted less. Your legacy will speak for itself. It will be spoken in what’s left in your name, who speaks of you with admiration and love…and in the ability to reach past your own ideas to give life to someone else’s.
…all this from the chick named, “Kween”. lmao
Every time I hear the story of Cain & Abel…I automatically think of “cane” (crutched, cripple) and “able” (ABLE, duh!) lol. I always wonder if it isn’t just one of those parables in the Bible that is written for it’s allegoric meaning and not the recounting of an actual event. Yet…This isn’t about the Bible or the contesters that may follow with “knowledge” of the Good Book. This is about the “cains” and the “abels”……..the “cain’ts and the able’s”.
The Cain’ts are the ones who “cain’t” do shit. Except for maybe throw dirt on the Able’s. As with Cain and Abel…Cain resented his brother for being the “favored” one. He killed him and tried to play it off. *smh*.
Let’s talk about MY Cain and Abel…aka Ty and Abdul. LOL TY? He kicks around the crib, drinking up all the Pepsi, lying in the yard in the hammock with his slippers and tube socks on smoking Kools. Abel on the other hand…worked and brought home his check…gaining the respect of their parents. Cain, with his lazy self…did nothing to garner accolades, kudos, etc. He was the prime example of what “don’t, does”. Here is Ty on the couch with the jheri curl cap and his feet on their mom’s sofa arm…trying to get the younger kids to go to the sto’. YET, If you TELL Ty (Cain) that he needs to get a job, stand on his own two feet and become one with the nature of his purpose as a man…he feels that everyone is ganging up on him and doesn’t understand him. So, when his brother Abdul (Abel) comes through and their mama is happier than a pig getting released from a sausage factory…Ty is seething at his mother’s praise of his brother. Abdul has gone to school, has a good job, has a good woman on his arm, and respects his parents. Why SHOULDN’T he have his family be proud of him? Ty’s tide ass is upset about something that he’s set into motion, but has convinced himself is highly justifiable. Probably has a long story as to how moms, Evette didn’t treat them the same. How Abel got the big piece of chicken and got the new pair of shoes…but, if you look at their history…can’t you just see Cain being a straight pain in the ass and Abel picking up the slack? I’d give him the new Jordan’s, too. *hmph*
I see daily…folks who CAIN’T, shitting on the folks who are ABLE. People with miserable existences (having a job, money or even friends does NOT a life make) who can’t breathe without negativity. It is believed that if you have those things…the finances, stability of income and a crowd to kick it with that you’re a happy person…but that’s not true. Sometimes people are so miserable within that they can’t even begin to comprehend happiness. Their social scene, career and sometimes family, is a facade. Things and people surrounding them have no impact on inner fears of failure, feelings of inferiority and latent traumas that haven’t been dealt with. They slip into these roles to mask their own pain and sadness and learn to mimic the smiles of a happy individual. The truth, is that they are wounded deep down. They’ll kick, maim, throw stones, knock down, stomp and strangle the happiness, hope, peace, and love out of someone who isn’t afraid to be themselves, live to their potential and heal through growth. They’ll kill the ability to live right out of someone who refuses to say, “can’t”. Some times…Cain, is just that person who won’t do the work but wants to be considered for the highest position. They want the utmost respect, the first consideration, the nod of approval…yet they couldn’t be bothered to reciprocate. Yea…
To the Cain’t Get Right’s…
Cain’t See Straight’s…
Cain’t Let Go’s…
Cain’t Let Live’s…
En-ABEL yourselves to heal. It has been said to me…and I’ve said to others, that you have to be grateful for who you ARE…what you HAVE…and who loves YOU…in order for you to be blessed with more. You want for people to see you shine? Polish yourself off. You want to receive love and appreciation? Learn to love and appreciate yourself and those around you. You want to move forward? Kick away that kickstand and take off those training wheels…even if only mentally and spiritually. Kick off those crutches of doubt, hate, and jealousy…and run until you break free of your braces. RUN, FOREST…RUN!!! lol
**This is NOT paraphrased from the Bible, nor is it taken from any one scripture. I am merely playing on the names of Cain and Abel to make a point. PLEASE do not get religious on me and come thumping me over the head with the Bible. I own one…mom’s a reverend. Thanks, lol.
So, YEA…that’s how we do it. LOL
Nothing is more frustrating then people homing in on ONE thing in a multi-faceted situation. Nothing is ALL positive, nor ALL negative. As many abusive, no-good men that were brought to the forefront in Tyler’s movies…there were positive, loving, men showcased as well. All of the women weren’t victims…some were the cause of their own troubles. It’s life. It’s how Jay-Z raps about what he knows, How Biggie rapped on the streets until he got money…then he rapped on money. THAT is what’s happening with Tyler. SCREW who he wants to or likes to screw. I don’t need to know that man’s personal business in order to take something away from his productions. Hell…some folks still LOVE themselves some R. Kelly, even though he’s been accused (and allegedly CAUGHT on tape pissing on and screwing young girls). They’re pumping that new jam RIGHT now.
People…stop being so unbalanced and selective in whom you “judge”. If you’re going to weigh up someone for the skewering…use the same system of measure as you would someone on the opposite end of the spectrum. Live and let live.
It’s okay to STFU sometimes. LMAO
Yep…I’m piggybacking off of the BET special “Black Girls Rock”…but this is a necessary thing to aver!
This looks like it might be part blog and part poem, so maybe this is a plog. lol or boem. Either way…this is why I rock!
I rock because I was born to a woman who rocks.
I rock, because well…I’m Kali.
My name rocks…in 7 different languages. I’m a genius, I am black energy, I am the creator/the destroyer, I am a flower, I am a singing lark, I am the child closest to God, I…am beautiful.
I rock, because…even though I’m Narcoleptic…I’m EPIC. I love BIG. I think BIG. My blessings are BIG.
I rock because I’ve fallen…and stood up again.
because, I’ve prayed when afraid…
I am fearful, yet…
I feel the fear now…and do it anyway. I’m afraid to travel alone, but I do. I’m afraid to love again…but, I’m ready to dive in. I may say I’m tired…but, I still try.
I rock, because…I see the best where the worst is expected…
I find the silver lining with or without clouds…
I believe when all else fails…
I smile when tears are on the verge of streaming…
I rock, because when my mind says cuss…
my heart says breathe in…
breathe out…and reach for tact and compassion…
…place it in the hands of God.
when I’m sick
when I’m mean
when I’m being spoiled
when I’m giving more than I have…
for so many reasons…
and for no reason at all…I rock.