I’m really blown away by the response I’ve had today to launching this new blog, thank you all of you who are brave enough to follow me down what might possibly be a slippery path! It sort of feels liberating to be my normal humorous yet deep thinking self, the two mindsets I find work rather harmoniously. Funny but deep, yeah, that’s me.

I often find that people just don’t get me, unsure of how to categorise me. The truth is I have many strings to my bow, I am a lot of things and I have a lot of interests and skills. You can do a lot in 39 years, well almost 39!

What I do have is an unwavering passion for writing. I love using words and language, stretching it so that it does interesting things, and watching how it paints beautiful pictures and affects those that read it, including myself. For me, language is so much more than just words on a page or screen, or sound being spoken. I am a Synaesthetic, meaning that letters, words, language, whether spoken or written have colour, dimension, sound (separate to the one I may be hearing), smell, texture. Something to do with my neural pathways not having separated as is ‘usually’  the case with many people during childhood (and I generalise loosely here!), so that all of my senses are interconnected i.e. Synaesthesia. As a child I really just assumed that everybody saw the world in this way. But I guess not. In fact, other than my brother, I had never met another Synaesthetic in all of my 38 and a half years until two months ago!

Of course my interpretation of language is not the only thing that is affected by my Synaesthesia, everything is. It forms the backbone of everything I do, from being a writer, to being an artist, musician, and intuitive/empath. It is very much linked to my gut feeling, and my intuition. Things have to feel right before I proceed, particularly with creative projects. When I was younger and  less aware of myself and my abilities having to get things right caused a real issue, and for years I was given to unbridled procrastination. Never getting anything done because something wasn’t quite right!

With time and age and a lot of honing I now trust that there is an abundance of creativity within me and so anything I do I know will be of value and of a certain standard. When I was younger I just didn’t trust in what I could already do, nor did I have the physical skills or the muscle memory to actualise it.

In fact I can even see physical ailments in people, with a little focus. It appears as a colour or colours that I can then interpret. Although I’m not a skilled physician, and I deal mainly with my own family’s muscular and joint complaints. In my twenties I ran an experiment with playing cards, as many of us do invariably if we have an interest in ESP and all that malarkey, and I realised that through my ability to interpret things as colours, I could tell what colour the suit of a card was if it was facedown. It just looked different, with the black suits appearing to have depth, and the red being much more prominent. Not always foolproof, but it has given me the advantage in many a card game – I found it works with dominoes too (in terms of the number of dots on the tile)!

I never liked the term psychic to explain what I was able to perceive, because as far as I was concerned it was not anything out of the ordinary, or necessarily paranormal, it was just something I could do and furthermore, no-one ever told me any different. My family was far too busy with their own lives to even notice. Lucky me I suppose, although that’s a double-edged sword if ever there was one.

Do please your comments and any amusing anecdotes you might have about yourselves. Thanks for reading!

2 thoughts on “My Purple Orange in B flat

  1. Your diary entries reminds me of my son’s journey – from my perspective. What does a mother do when her 1st born comes home from school upset bc no one understands his jokes? Or calls her long distance from a relative’s home to tell about the troll invading his bedroom? Maybe your family did notice and didn’t know what to do? I learned to adjust to his gifts and am grateful that I was choosen to be his mother. Your post reflect your gifts beautifully. I look forward to reading more. Namaste

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  2. Thank you Dianne for your comments. What I realise is that as painful as being ‘different’ has been at points throughout my life, it is this ‘difference’ that has driven me to ask the questions I have, and to have had the pleasure of discovering facets of myself and other people that I could only dream possible as a child. My parents were and still are quite indifferent to who I am and my beliefs, insisting that their own are far superior, and I know that is in part to do with where they are on their own journeys in life. However, being the ‘black sheep’ of the family, and of the society I know suits me surprisingly well when I stop forgetting for a moment and remember what I know within me. I think your son is extremely fortunate to have you as his mother this time around. Blessings to you, and thank you for stopping by.

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