Accepting the Blessing of Sensitivity

Original article published by Talent Development.com

I would bet that a lot of us were fully prepared for our own funerals by about age seven, figuring that we were soon going to die from sensory overload. From the very beginning, the world was stirring me like a whisk.

Life in general felt upside down, inside out and backwards. From my three-foot tall childhood viewpoint, my city looked littered; the music in our house was too loud; chemical cleaners and detergents smelled too strong; and cars sped too fast.

Sensing the bad mood of every stranger walking down the street didn’t help.

Perhaps you relate. As extra sensitive people, we don’t get much recharge time. If we sit still, we’re listening to some inner voice telling us we’d better save the world, or at least save our families.

We are driven to weigh options, inspect details and view all things from all perspectives. With hearts protruding out on our sleeves unprotected, they get broken terribly.

Indeed, the sensitive life feels like a fight all the way to the finish line, doesn’t it? We find ourselves carrying a torch burning with Olympic-sized dreams of winning the prize of a better life for everyone.

At the beginning, few of us feel successful, all webbed up in the sticky chaos of our overloaded psyches:

"I wish I could draw a picture that would show my parents what's going on inside my head so they would stop asking what's wrong with me -- why I'm so deep, so serious.”

This is the sensitive person’s struggle. Our thoughts are too massive, our feelings completely invisible to the world. Minds of sensitive souls are vast and inexplicable -- too complex to be described using the overly simple words and images we have to choose from.

“But I would need mountains of paper and rivers of paint to draw that picture. So instead I'll draw simple pictures on letter-sized paper, like the ones my older sister Toni makes, with princesses and fashions and trees with red apples.

At quiet times like this I get a strong feeling that I have big things to do with my heart for the world. And I like the feeling of it. I rake the stair step below me with my fingers to clasp an orange heart-shaped leaf, which I know is a clue telling me yes, keep believing in such good things; you're on the right track."

Yes, these gleaming moments of confirmation that we are in the world for a reason surprisingly arise like ginger colored suns: Suddenly, every possibility is right there in gold plated form. The joy of inspiration sings and lifts our wings.

Learning to use these glimmers of alignment with our hearts as personal cues is key. Anything that makes us feel in alignment with our true center is a telltale stepping stone towards a more desired future.

Following those cues, we find that our gifts become clearer; our personal power builds. Walking toward what feels right despite what other people may tell us, we understand that we’re different in a good way.

We understand that we’re here to help people see opportunity in the ashes, helping them process problems by accessing a deeper understanding of the feelings behind tragedies.

We are good at dissecting human afterthoughts, unearthing fragments that when pieced together form images of heaven.

I think the sensitive person’s perspiration of anxious pressure arises again and again as an illusion that we have earthly limitations. It’s like a recurring dream that is trying to get a message to us.

The universe is giving us something to bravely walk toward so we can prove to ourselves that there really is nothing earthy that we can’t overcome.

For years I didn’t realize that I could get beyond the curse of living in this tough world. But I did. Now I live in the blessing, and this world isn’t tough at all. It’s a dream.

Getting here wasn’t easy. When I was younger, I would find ways to cope, seeking art and music as emotional therapy. I tried to change my debilitating family environment. I withdrew from people. And I looked for love and romance from boy heroes.

From the eyes of an extra-sensitive child, loving is everything. But from the eyes of God, seeing that we have learned to love ourselves first is everything.

Our biggest and toughest earthly lesson is to put our needs first above all else. We find it so infuriating, so selfish, so wrong.

But that is the test. Knowing that we deserve the best that life has to offer brings us every ounce of power we ever needed to help and inspire others.

That awareness of personal merit is the magic that turns every perceived curse into the true blessing that awaits.

~ ~ ~

Italics are from Jenna Forrest's book: Help Is On Its Way: A True Story

Dr. Elaine Aron [author of The Highly Sensitive Person] says of the book: "Highly sensitive people will recognize their own childhood in Jenna Forrest's radiant painting--using every hue in the emotional spectrum--of her years from seven to seventeen... Readers will be charmed by this sensitive woman's unique creative force, a valuable reminder of their own."