Somehow this article got lost… I don’t know how… it disappeared from the site… Weird. This is a “reprint”
Confessions Of An Empath
I didn’t know that the feelings I experienced weren’t only mine until a few months ago. I was 63 years old. I had never heard about the phenomenon, so I never suspected.
I had a long history of living like a phoenix… burned and crashed and then reborn from the ashes.
My Mother, the empath
I hear that the curse of being an empath is inherited, and upon further looking into the path, confirming it with muscle testing, my mother carried the cursed gene.
Did she show any signs of being empathic in ways that it would be a good thing? Not at all. Instead she showed the aspect of empaths that the unaware empath demonstrates: being the trash collector of other people’s badness.
My mother was mostly in her world, coming out rarely. In the middle of a conversation she would rub her face with both her hands, look at you, and say: What were you saying?
I always thought it odd.
She gave birth to 4 children, one died… but she didn’t want anything to do with us. Especially me. She directed all her anger, all her frustrations at me.
It was very confusing to me, but today, through this distinction, the only thing I can feel for her is pity.
She was your typical unaware empath, suffering mightily.
She only experienced some semblance of happiness when she was alone. She died in a hospital… she refused to continue living.
The doctor said that physiologically she wasn’t ill enough to die. I guess she jumped of the ledge…
My first 24 years were utterly miserable. Other than my nightly walks and runs I didn’t know who I was. I came to the realization that other people had a lot to do with my misery, I used to go to sleep at 5 pm, wake up at 11, and start my schoolwork then.
That way, without the interference of awake people, I managed to become a top student, though it required a lot of work from me: I always felt bad, always had these horrible feelings that were ravaging my body, and paying attention was hard.
As soon as I could, I moved out of my parents’ house, but my new apartment was in an 11-story building, with someone always awake, and the misery continued. I was ill more often than I was well.
At my first job, and architectural office, they had this open office with seemingly hundreds of people working at their drafting board. Hundreds of sources of disturbing emotions all absorbed by me.
Just after two months of that I had bleeding ulcer. I needed to ask for help from my boy friend’s parents, and they allowed to move in with them, eat with them, so I can survive without an income.
Relationships were always bad for me. I would completely lose my individuality, and become, as my mother said, a big gray bunny. No color, no personality, nothing to say.
Architecture was my choice, but it became my curse. When you are an architect, you are only using about 5% of the time to be creative, and the rest of the time is mechanical, drafting, etc. A curse for an empath.
Even being a typist would have been better for my well-being: every moment you need to concentrate on what you are typing so you catch the typos as you make them, and not later.
Number one enemy for an empath is idleness of mind. Recreation, vacation, purposeless being. An empath is most protected from the deluge of other people’s feelings when he is busy concentrating his attention on something that requires all of his attention.
Mathematics, physics, puzzles, studying something hard all worked well for me. Architecture is not like any of these: it is a 95% idle mind occupation.
I was on the run. I went from job to job, from country to country.
In 1988 I found something that would consume me and focus me: I published, edited, created a magazine. It was all-consuming, and for a while I was really well.
Until my mother came to visit… It was all downhill from there.
My health simply collapsed, in her brief visit she managed to destroy the integrity of all my systems.
A turbulent seven years followed with only one activity that helped me stay above the flood: coaching.
Coaching, concentrating on one person’s words and internal state was my saving grace.
Even when I became severely brain damaged, my coaching continued: I lost my ability to add and subtract, I lost my ability to find my way home, but I was able to coach. Quite confounding, isn’t it?
I think that the unaware empath is clearly described in my mother’s and my story.
Let’s now look at the empath that knows they are an empath, and empathy becomes a useful, invaluable tool for them.
What is the difference? Plenty.
The most important difference I see is that an empath can become a virtuoso of their own instrument: instead of it resonating with everything and everyone, thus creating confusing and discontinuous miseries, the empath can direct what they choose to feel.
Of course, in the middle of doing something else, I still experience other people’s frustration, anger, pride, diminishment, anxiety, doubts, fear, just like before.
The difference is: I can name these emotions, I can ask if they are mine, and find out who they generate from. The moment I realize that the feeling is not mine, I can look at it as a weird bug, but not my own self. The “labeling” creates a distance, and allows me to be me, and feeling be the feeling. Maybe psychologists should reconsider what they say about labeling!
The strong feelings are not mine, 99 times out of 100. And when they are, they are a good indicator and guide of what I should do.
This way I have an intimate “emotional journal” of some of my clients. It is here that I must mention: an empath feels your emotions a hundred times stronger than you do. There is no justice in the universe, lol.
As a coach, as a spiritual guide, an empath is able to get in touch with depths of the client that they are unaware of. Especially men, people are cut off from their feelings, and cannot use them as a useful guide to know what they want, what they don’t want, what they are about, what makes them tick.
Most men I deal with chose a profession by default, chose friends and spouses by default, chose hobbies by default, and experience a low-grade misery, a vague sense of being in a jail.
They don’t quite know what is the cause, how it happened to them. Some drudge through their life till they die, some choose some useless and dangerous ways to “bail out.” Addictions are a good example. But these actions come from unconsciousness, and don’t bring a sense of rightness, a sense of freedom with them.
This is where an empath comes really handy. They can feel for you and think with you.
And as a leader for world transformation, as a tool for Source, I can do a better job than a non-empath. My own aspirations, ambitions, wants and needs never really developed, (I didn’t know who I was, what I liked until recently!) so I can surrender to the will of The Creator, and experience no sense of loss.
Of course I could easily become a tool for the Dark Side, a tool for some Guru, a tool for destruction… I guess I have enough awareness and enough distinctions in right and wrong, to have stayed clear of that path.
I still examine, every day, if I am still on the side of Good. You can’t stay vigilant enough.
Now, let me say a few words about the recent empath assignment: Activating The Original Design.
In a nutshell (read more in my other articles) this is the story:
The Light (Source, The Creator, God, use your name here) was always. Its nature is to give of itself, in fact, it renews itself by causing the movement of energy.
At some point The Light created The Vessel of its own body (remember, there was nothing else!) for the sole purpose to receive its light.
The Original Design of The Vessel was to be expanding. What activates expansion is desire. So the Original Design of The Vessel is to use desire as a means to expand itself, so it can receive more and more light.
At some point The Vessel experienced “Bread of Shame” (anxiety about only receiving and never giving) and refused to receive any more light.
The Vessel said: I want to give too, like you. I want to earn my light.
The Light complied and withdrew itself into an infinitesimal point… At this point the physical universe sprang into place, a place of limited resources, a place of duality, a place of either you or me, a place of mortality.
The Vessel broke up into countless pieces, all having the identity of the Original Vessel, fully equipped with desire and the means to expand.
These little pieces, the “souls” of humanity, attempt to earn their light on Planet Earth.
But, because of the original agreement (It said: I want to give too, like you. I want to earn my light.) the circuits of the souls weren’t activated. They lay dormant in humanity, and each generation have seen only a handful of people activate these dormant circuits.
The Planet is misused and starting to signs of discord. Societies are divided, the rich and the poor, the conscious and the barely conscious have a huge gap between them.
It was time to take a dramatic action: through the request of a human, an incarnate being, speaking for all of humanity, for the whole Vessel, The Creator was willing to activate The Original Design.
299 is not the maximum a human being can reach, but it has become the new minimum.
Further activation is only possible by earning it.
In our “deal” with The Creator, earning it is by requesting it. It’s that simple.
But… you need to directly connect to The Creator, and request it specifically.
Not stuff, not what we normally ask for. Instead the specific capacity… Now, that is not an easy task for most humans that are completely unaware and unconscious of capacities and completely and only paying attention on stuff…
This is why I am developing a system that can ask for the capacities for you.