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and pulsing with life, death, and transformation. You could say that a
terms of a built-in antenna device that seems to reach as high as radar and as deep as sonar. Some report experiences of being tremendously absorbent, taking in life experiences through their pores like a sponge . . . The pressure to respond to the slightest shift in barometric pressure, a bright light or loud noise, a pungent aroma, commotion or emotional upheaval, or tiny blips in the way their body is working, can make the life of a gifted adult a rich tapestry of experience. It can also wear them out.
And, as if that were not enough, you probably have deep complex emotions that could spill out over the furniture and run down the walls if you let them, which you probably do not, especially if you are a male.6 Regardless, you are probably still capable of feeling both despair and
Instead, they are seen as an aspect of temperament that is natural in this
But, according to Dabrowski, the rumination is all in the service of growth, increased moral complexity, and higher functioning. Wouldn’t it be nice to think of your frequent angst-ridden thinking jags as precursors to breakthroughs, or even necessary for substantial mental-emotional-spiritual expansion? Dabrowski would say that is exactly what they are.
“Oftentimes, parents or teachers do not realize how these very things that seem little—a little praise, a little criticism, a little failure—can create such enormous turmoil in a young person’s life.”14 Especially if the person has a rainforest mind.
[The gifted] see the beauty of human relations, of nature, of literature. They deeply experience the richness of the world around them; hearing beautiful music, seeing a lovely landscape, watching a child grow, observing life, feeling empathy with others. . . . Many gifted people never lose their sense of wonderment. Because there is greater awareness, many things are felt more deeply.15
“being in tune with others’ feelings and . . . knowing trees have souls and angels frolic in twilight and wind whispers haikus across the raging Pacific . . . seeing, hearing, and feeling what is invisible to others.”
I feel like the world just wants me to forgive them, to just let it go and act like, even though they’re responsible, that I shouldn’t make them acknowledge it. Because they
The gift you carry for others is not an attempt to save the world but to fully belong to it. It’s not possible to save the world by trying to save it. You need to find what is genuinely yours to offer the world before you can make it a better place. Discovering your unique gift to bring to your community is your greatest opportunity and challenge. The offering of that gift—your true self—is the most you can do to love and serve the world. And it is all the world needs.27
What is odd is that you may feel both the pressure to achieve and the need to hide your achievements and abilities.
Scanners want it all, not because they’re spoiled but for the same reason all your muscles want exercise. Scanners love variety because they have brains that process things quickly and are ready for new subjects sooner than other
“Waiting” was the most common response when Tracy Cross of the College of William and Mary asked thirteen thousand kids in seven states to describe in one word their experience as gifted children. “They said they were always waiting for teachers to move ahead, waiting for classmates to catch up, waiting to learn something new—always waiting.”
We stand on the threshold of a great unknown. Individually and collectively, we launch into an uncertain future—at once, both perilous and saturated with possibility. Our accustomed, culturally-determined roles and identities are inadequate to navigate the sea change of our time. Our collective journey requires a radical shift in the human relationship with the community of all life—a cultural transformation so profound that future humans might regard it as an evolution of consciousness. Safe passage requires each of us to offer our full magnificence to the world.
Shall we end the clear-cutting now?
You are made of crystalline structures, that vibrate like tuning forks. Their delicate iridescent wings unfurl and lift them high on the soft breeze of night to gather subtle informations which few can understand. You inhabit these in formations Gathering them in tenderly and transposing them when needed to harmonize the infinite tangled song strands of earth. Perhaps you ought to wear a helmet and goggles in the shopping mall or wrap your selves in blankets hung with spells and crystals Just to navigate the realm of ambient noise at work.
When the luminous wings of your soul flap, you lift up out of ordinary time and immerse yourself in beauty, or sorrow, or fierce love. Whatever is before you, you enter and allow
the exquisite dilemma of life to welcome you toward the Divine. This is hard to accomplish at gas stations, bars or gaming arcades. Also, hospital waiting rooms, school cafeterias, truck stops, cocktail parties or among the very rich.
Naturally, you seek moving water, wetlands full of water fowl and the cascade of crimson leaves. Some cathedrals and Japanese garden shrines and The company of your own strange sort.
None of this is easy. You must be an ardent scientist of replenishment. You must be the crafty, shape-shifting magician, just to whisk yourself into psychic obscurity at the right moment.
Certain sounds are helpful; the plunk and fall of water. The early morning bird calls, the crackle of fire against star light. A gentle heart-felt chanting can lower the curtain Of protection around your ears.
No one loves to cloak them selves more: The soft fall of the cloth that makes you separate. The eye lids of the soul, allowed to close. The petals holding the bud. The silk lantern wrapped around the lilting light.
Do not listen to the harsh instructions of the world which might delude you into using what is odd and fragile and capable of magic as an inadequate tool for bludgeoning. Or spend what you have, for endurance. Or to mire that intricate knowing into covert arguments about power.
Allow yourself to float the billowy cape of rose petals and golden leaves around you. Turn away from those unhelpful influences.
Protect it like the multifaceted jewel
rock it to sleep at night. Sing love songs and lullabies to those wispy neurons, those singed nerve endings, those antennae you attempted to hide under your hair.
You are made for healing. So many lifetimes you must have prayed for this. So many languages to mend the fabric of the world come from your deepest heart.
Oh, sing the melody of the spheres that you were meant to hold. Sing the songs that weave the balance. This color strand light weaving dance that you can do. And let go.
Of needing to be rich or strong enough to endure shopping malls or television. Let the joy of who you are rise up, a flowering light from the inside.
And only laugh and turn away when anyone would measure you in money or endurance
For what is endurance when you have fractured and re-joined 1000 lifetimes? Carried on your own laughter… And the musical sounds of beauty and luminous Hope!
