Sensitive People! (aka How Does it Make You Feel When You Read That)

Protip! If you're a sensitive person and experiencing all the things we are experiencing in our now moments, you might be seeking to take a step back from less helpful substances or foods, (even if just for a time.) I find replacements to be very helpful. Having tea around and an electric kettle keeps me from reaching for something that sometimes soothes in the short term, but adds some undesirable component to my experience.

"What brings this to mind, Jen?" You may ask. Well, today I heard a beautiful song in my head. This often happens, and the instruments change, and the sound, and the voice. I think I must think like a producer. But today it was an instrument that I've not only had experience with, but that I have 2, count them, two of them easily accessible to me. A beautiful white piano and a beautiful keyboard, a gift from some very dear clients of mine. A gift that I have yet to plug in.

Perhaps if you're of the more curious nature, you think, "Why haven't you plugged in your beautiful new keyboard, Jen?"

Well, you are in luck, curious friend, because I am feeling like sharing this particular story.

My creative space at the Garden of Eden

Let's go back to the wonderful, aching, brooding melody that was cooking inside my brain as I pencil sketched on the back patio of the house I call "The Garden of Eden."

The thought occurred to me, "oh, this is just rudimentary piano, I could totally play this myself." A little time passed. Damn. I was playing with two intertwining harmonies now, it was getting more complex. If I could just get one of them down, I could play vocally over what I played the piano. Only....

When I went to play, I was so out of practice that my skills were quite rusty. I gave myself as much grace as I could, and then played something that sounded like when I played as a child. My instant reaction was to push it away. And so I sat there on the bench. And I accepted the panic. And I wrote a story in my head, as we do, about what was happening, and why I felt the way I did, in a really kind light. I watched as I felt the knee-jerk urge toward old habits and patterns that sometimes come up in response to triggers.


As I was trying to look at anything other than the piano in front of me, I saw the keyboard in the corner, and I thought "ohhh." It clicked for me that I haven't been able to plug her in yet because I am afraid to love something that much again and have it "taken away."

In the mode I am experiencing, it feels more expansive and joyful to dip my hands in several different creative pots, and so I did end up getting up from the piano, but only after I wrote down the notes in my ever-present friend, my journal. Then I headed off to write. And here we are.

Experiencing highly creative days where I am loving everything I am doing, ("Damn, that is a good drawing." "oh man, that poem melts my Soul.") gives me quite the rush. It feels good. Sometimes art or music is so good I get overstimulated. Sometimes this feels like anxiety. In days past, I might reach for a substance right away, because that method had historically been a consistent way to either calm things down or numb them out.

She told me in September that her name is "Harriet." : )

So reaching for things outside of what is inside me is something I used to do in order to mitigate my sensitive nervous system. I experience sensitivity to sound, to crowds' energies, to foods, to substances, to other being's suffering, to WiFi, to electricity, to smells, to music, to art, to Nature, to other people's energies, to the Unseen energies...

It's not a bad thing. It just is. And sometimes when a bunch of crazy shit is happening all at once, my nervous system gets maxed out, making my sensitivities feel like over-sensitivities. 

Smell that fresh air.

Being sensitive enables me to connect deeply with other people. That's how we sensitives are able to touch people in such memorable ways. It really is a beautiful characteristic to have.

However, there are usually many layers of shadows to uncover who we are as a sensitive person. 

Sensitive persons frequently experience being gaslit, which I am coming to understand means that is a situation where another person, regardless of motive, makes a person question their reality. The gaslighter may tell the gaslightee that the emotions they're experiencing are not valid. I have experienced that from other people, and I have done it myself.

We're often told to stop crying. "There's nothing to cry about!" or "I'll give you something to cry about!" We're told we're too sensitive, weird, moody, too much, not enough, "don't think that way," "don't feel that way," "why are you so different?!"

We're abandoned when we vulnerably share out hearts - maybe, I think, because other people don't know what to say. And instead of saying that out loud, they just run away.

We're belittled, we're told we're weak, we're told we act like a woman - but not like, "you go, girl." More like, that is not a good thing.

I can say those things now and feel fine, because I no longer believe them to be true. My experience is perfect just as it is. And so is yours. And so is your neighbor's. And so is your friend's. And so is your partner's. And so is your kid's.

People unfold as they unfold. Let them be. Be there for them. But let them be. The perfect version of each of us is present in every now moment. Just like the buds on my new red rose bush, Bernice. Just like the magnificent flower in my neighbor Jeremy's flower bed. Beautiful at every stage of the journey.

Here is Bernice, when I first planted her.

And you know what? Knowing that helps me not reach outside myself in unhealthful ways to mitigate my sensitive nervous system too. It feels so much better to just allow myself to have my full emotional experience, without resistance or shame.

I love that you're sensitive! Shine that light, baby. Give yourself love. I like to use that Tony Baker line, "I'm just out here shinin' and glistenin' in the light of my own destiny!"