Sometimes being me is a chore. Having the abilities I have as an intuitive and empath weighs very heavily on me. It can be a very solitary pursuit when all around you don’t understand or can relate. From my experience meeting others like me is a rare occurrence indeed, and it tends to be brief at that. The thing is, for me I have always had my peculiar abilities so I have no awareness of how life might be without them. You can understand that it has caused a great deal of consternation on my part, particularly as I have grown up in a culture where it is generally believed that to entertain such notions of ‘psychic’ ability is tantamount to a form of madness. Hearing voices, seeing faces, and other such ‘odd’ sensory phenomena are usually attributable to many a psychological condition. Actually I’m not sure I care if people think I’m mad or not. I cannot refute what I hear, see and feel, it is as real as the nose on my face, and I do not accept the lack of understanding on behalf of science. I have at least developed a basic respect for my own integrity in that regard, though not without a few teeth being pulled along the way.
I spent many years trying to justify my abilities, reading every book available on the subject of metaphysics, the occult, esoterics, self-help, mediumship, conspiracy theories, creation theories, Aliens. You name it, I’ve read it (except for the Celestine Prophecy – never had a calling to read it so far).
I’ve done every kind of meditation, gone on many soul journeys, practised shamanism, healing, did tarot and aura readings for a time, past life regressions, consulted many a psychic, and much more. I’ve tried not to leave any stone unturned in my quest for understanding. I know why I am here and what I am here to do, I know I should feel truly blessed to know what I know and do what I do. If I met someone like me I would be seriously impressed and possibly quite intimidated!
Yet, there is still the everyday human me to deal with, the part of me that refuses to engage with that knowledge completely, and my own beliefs about the world I create. Not every moment is an epiphany, nor is it always that clear. As a mother of three still relatively young children most of my energy is absorbed in caring for them and running a home with little time for anything else. All of that amazing knowledge somehow sits in the sidelines waiting for the curtain call. It comes through most definitely when I channel spirit energies through my writing, or my drawing. Everything falls back in to place for a while, and I remember what it’s all about. Yet ‘remembering’ takes a certain kind of energy that I just haven’t learned how to sustain on a conscious waking level, partly due to the basic beliefs I have about my reality.
Recently I have been attempting to address some of those core beliefs, particularly the negative ones. It’s been amazing to notice how much of an outcast I have felt throughout my life, always on the periphery of experience, an outsider, never quite fitting in. When I think about it I have been subjected to so much racism, sexism, ageism and so many other ‘isms’, prejudices, and abuse throughout my whole life that it makes my head spin and my stomach churn to even contemplate how I could have allowed it to happen through personal belief alone. Moreover, why?
However, I take full responsibility for the reality I create around me, having come to the conclusion after many years of asking questions that I do indeed create my own reality, we all do. Our lives are a manifestation and thus a reflection of what we think and what we feel supposedly ‘within’ us. I categorically do not believe in coincidence, nor chance, nor fate for that matter. Free will reigns, even though certain patterns are agreed upon and followed.
Fear and naivety played a large part when I was younger, having been brought into the world by parents who did not want me and who frankly saw me as an inconvenience and a burden. My childhood was tough and I struggled to be heard, or even be noticed much of the time. In many ways not much has changed, yes I am wiser, more mature, and I have a better understanding of my life and my abilities and skills than I did when I was a child. But it seems that I still harbour the basic belief that I am a mistake and that I don’t belong here. That belief seems to underpin many of my experiences through life, from the relationships I have kept to the health issues that I have. As shocking as it was for me to admit it to myself, it made total sense.
I had an odd experience some years ago while undergoing a time-line regression under hypnosis with one of the UK’s leading NLP master practitioners. I experienced a memory of being in my mother’s womb having overheard my father in particular telling my mother that he didn’t want me, and that I was a mistake. I also remembered really not wanting to be born at all, quite content to be non-physical, and being dead set against taking part in physical life again. I hadn’t really made sense of that notion until recently.
I prize my creative mind and my spirituality, yet at the expense of my physical body it would seem which is in pain all of the time due to a rare genetic condition called Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome that I was eventually diagnosed with seven years ago. My body is still taking the abuse, yet it is now almost pre-programmed to do so without outside help. How convenient!
I realise how such a negative belief has held me back in so many ways. It is what stops me being successful, and feeling as though I am supported and loved. I’m still wrestling with the implications daily, trying to work out how I can change it. I know that recognising it and naming it is a positive step. But looking around me I still see the familiar hue of my life pre-revelation. I don’t feel that anything has changed at all. Maybe I’m missing something.