Over the years, that desire has led me to develop a system of getting personal with that greater power: we write to each other.

It’s not about multiple personalities or alternate realities. It’s about plugging in and tuning the dial. It’s about the collective subconscious and direct connection to the Source.

It’s worth a try, right?

My reasoning goes something like this: If I assume that I am part of the infinity that’s overseen and coordinated by a beneficent power greater than myself, then I am, in a sense, talking to a part of myself when I enter into conversation. (Stay with me here). In other words, there’s wisdom in me that is also beyond me, and by writing out conversations, I’ve found that something happens between the me that I live with every day (Me) and what I often think of as the Über-Manager, or the Universe. I call It “U” for short.

I am able to locate a rich, deep, astonishing vein of wisdom that invariably causes me to grow in the direction of health and hope. I write these conversations out by hand. The faster I write, the more I learn. The longer I write, the more I learn.

Here’s a short example, culled from my journals:

Me: What will help me today to be easier and more comfortable in my relationship with T?

U: Biggest things: restraint and acceptance. Plus, it’s been a while since you practiced your humour skills. And, as always and above all, focus exclusively on your own joy, even if that means thus choosing not to be around T.

Me: Sum it up, would you, for my easy remembering?

U: Court your own joy. Let him be as he is. Practice humour.
Me: Thank you. Thank you.

Pushing maintains the swirl. Sometimes, what’s out of sight and zooming toward you isn’t quite here yet. A leap in another direction doesn’t always land you in a more findable spot.

Waiting may be the quickest way to get somewhere.

How do you know which tack to take? Push or wait? If pushing makes you hyperventilate, makes your eyes bug out with effort, then maybe you’re pushing against yourself rather than anything that’s actually in your way.

If you think you’ve done everything right, but there’s still no reward, try waiting. Even for a little while.

Now and then, allow yourself be the target, not the arrow.

If you’re wondering why you have been overlooked by the gods, consider the possibility that they can’t pinpoint your location through all the dust you’re kicking up as you flail.

Take a deep breath. Sit down. Be quiet. Sip your tea.

Photo: Sleepy Buddha by Silvio Tanaka

(Flickr photo: grulla, by kekremsi)

You don’t feel like flying today, you say? You’re feeling life’s weight? If I say, “Chin up,” it may piss you off. It sounds trite, as though I expect you to down a placebo. Well, listen up.

You can’t fly without sticking your neck out.

Watch a bird in the moment before lifting off: head up, neck extended, chin high.

Don’t fold in on yourself in response to whatever heaviness life dishes out. Change your perspective through the tiny, simple step of raising your chin a fraction. If your chin resists, start by raising your eyes. Then untuck your chin from your chest. Then, millimetre by millimetre, crank it up.

Your lifted head sees further.

Looking down, all you see is the next shuffling step. A lifted head aligns your body, straightens your spine, improves your weight-bearing capability, allows your vision to find the horizon.

Rough times make big change feel far out of reach. So don’t reach that far. Reach one millimetre. Reach up. The rest will follow.

Inspire yourself. Lead with your chin.

–

Grace Kerina founded www.HighlySensitivePower.com to provide tools and encouragement to empower sensitivity, including the Healthy Boundaries Handbook and the Creativity Prompts Compendium. You can reach her at grace@highlysensitivepower.com.

Now, imagine you’re the toy. Not only are you being pulled this way at that, but, more importantly, no one is playing with you. Your purpose, your great potential is being squandered, lost in the scuffle. You’re a participant, but you’re not empowered.

Now imagine the reaction from the two kids when the toy shakes them off and speaks its own mind. Everything changes.

Think of a time when you felt like that toy: tossed about by the opinions of others, used or overlooked, not contributing to your full potential. What kept you from exerting a healthy boundary of your own?

In the toughest, most challenging situations, the situations in which we most need to claim our space and protect ourselves, our ability to think and plan wisely can get pushed underground. We’re too busy just trying to get through the moment.

What if we insert a powerful analogy into that tough moment, in the form of a visual image with the ability to trigger and empower? Visual imagery can short-circuit brain freeze and provide direction, even when you feel overloaded.

Here’s how it works. Imagine that every person is the captain of their own little boat, a rowboat big enough for only one person. We all float in our boats on the water. When we approach one another we’re easy to see. And small boats respond quickly to their environment. If the guy in the boat near you suddenly flings his big foot into your boat, you notice. Your boat tips and you hang on tight, fighting for balance. Not only that, if you shove his foot back to him and put some distance between the two boats, you’ve declared a boundary. The visual analogy of sitting in your own boat provides a simplified way to recognize a boundary breach and to figure out how to set things right.

The next time you find yourself in a situation where you’re being pulled in a direction you don’t want to go, stop and hold onto the sides of your boat. Look around to see who’s trying to board. Get your own feet back into your own boat. Ask yourself what you need. Then row in that direction.

Healthy boundaries change everything. Take a good look around. You’re in charge, Captain.

–

Grace Kerina founded www.HighlySensitivePower.com to provide tools and encouragement to empower sensitivity, including the Healthy Boundaries Handbook and the Creativity Prompts Compendium. You can reach her at grace@highlysensitivepower.com.

We all have sensitive moments, times when we take life to heart. Sometimes, when sensitivity dominates, we feel and sense our way through the day, aiming for the miraculous place just before feeling fully spills over into feeling too much.

Cue the circus music.

What do I do when this balancing act, for whatever reason, can’t be sustained and I spill into the net, landing with my arms folded across my chest and a scowl on my face, peeved, frustrated, or sad?

The best and most immediate restorer of balance I know is a jolt of joy, delivered in the form of a list of things that make me happy. I go to my room, close the door, pull out my bliss reminders list and start reading. The list is pages and pages long – long enough to suck me into its vortex. No matter what the circumstance, reading the list never fails to shift my mood toward the positive. I feel my body lighten, and my mood along with it. The bliss list has the power of a catapult, and I’m airborne again in no time.

The blue dress and matching coat I had as a kid. Maps. Musée Fesch in Ajaccio. Campfires. Practicing whistling in the tent during the sleet storm. Monkey puzzle trees. The look my nephew gave me. Pistachios. Illustrated journals.

Try it for yourself. Use a format you’re drawn to. Write the list into a blank book, for example, or keep the list on a computer and print it out. As you list joys, make them as personal as possible. Mine your past. Catalogue the joys of all your senses. Get specific. Keep adding to the list. Come back to it often for a lift.

–

Grace Kerina founded www.HighlySensitivePower.com to provide tools and encouragement to empower sensitivity, including the Healthy Boundaries Handbook and the Creativity Prompts Compendium. You can reach her at grace@highlysensitivepower.com.

To heck with it.

I’ve got a first-class ticket to the back of the line, and that’s where you’ll find me. I’ll be the one hanging out on that little porch at the back of the caboose, dangling my bare feet over the edge, propping my chin on the low railing, taking in the wide, glorious receding view.

Will you join me? Here, I’ve spread out a little picnic. Help yourself. We’ve got everything from carrot sticks and hummus to strawberry scones with butter. Take an embroidered cloth napkin and a chunky pottery plate. Lay down your burdens, pull up an all-cotton handmade cushion for your tush, sit here next to me, and let’s relax.

Now that we’re so far off the radar no one’s even looking for us, what do we do? Frankly, nothing much for a few hours. We watch the sky and the mesmerizing pattern of the railroad ties as they unfurl from beneath the back of the train. We take in the beauty and the fresh air (it’s a very long train), and the light at play across the land. We take turns sighing with relief.

Then we look at each other and giggle. Suddenly, everything’s funny. When we’ve laughed so much our bellies ache, we stop and watch the horizon recede. After a while longer, we talk. Our conversation winds, but we follow. We talk without a goal, except to discover each other and ourselves. We talk with our mouths and our eyes and our silences.

Then the train rises up a hill and trees meet overhead, making a tunnel that takes our breath away and makes speaking superfluous.
Hanging out at the back of the caboose is about navigating by the compass inside rather than the push for speed. It’s about getting happy, being whole, discovering the best me I can be, living my own dreams, connecting deeply.
The last edge of the sun slips away as the train banks around a long curve. In the fading light I reach for your hand.
–

Grace Kerina founded www.HighlySensitivePower.com to provide tools and encouragement to empower sensitivity, including the Healthy Boundaries Handbook and the Creativity Prompts Compendium. You can reach her at grace@highlysensitivepower.com.