“Boundaries are limits I set for myself. It is not about
what others do, but what I choose to participate in.”
I’ve reached a new level of anti-social. Kidding. Not kidding. Little things began to add up at the beginning of last year, and carried right on through until the end of 2016, when the big thing happened. Since then, I’ve kept at least an arm’s length between myself and others, preferring my natural inclination to write it out vs. to talk it out. Writing gives me time to thoughtfully respond and it allows personal space, a kind of barrier in between. And it’s this very sense of personal space that I’m currently guarding with an almost feral instinct.
Death brings with it a strange new atmosphere of stillness. Grief is a personal process; some need togetherness while others need solitude. I opted for the latter, creating a kind of no trespassing zone. Friends and family respected this need for privacy after such an event, so I cocooned up in a self-imposed isolation, guilt-free. I have always been drawn to stories of people who have gone off into the wilderness or some other sort of private retreat to get away from it all, to be alone with Nature and Spirit, and to enter uncharted territory. I craved this kind of experience in my own way, so I decided to unplug.
“Not everyone deserves access to you. Protect your spirit.”
In my solitude I was given a compass, an image in my mind’s eye, reassuring me that I already know the way. And there came with this image a cautioning about dispensing the details of my insights: unplug not to keep secrets or to withhold or to hide, but to decrease amped-up electrical currents from interfering. As an empath everything is amplified. Everything. I understand my connection to the vibrations of the earth and its inhabitants, but I occasionally fail to take seriously just how easy it is to become these vibrations. I am like a sponge, soaking up everyone’s stuff, taking on emotions and issues belonging to others, which amp-up my own emotions and issues, and vice versa. Unaware of my role in this exchange of energy, I could not break the cycle.
Death redirected my course. Everything changed in the family dynamic, giving me license to do so myself, and it made me realize the value of time and how I choose to spend it. Life became a treasured gift; I am now selective in my use of its energy, moving forward, unplugged and away from all the stuff. Quietly, privately, I hear the pure sound of Spirit.
“The first step towards getting somewhere is
to decide that you are not going to stay where you are.”