Gala The Word Wench
05-10-2003, 10:17 AM
No one speaks the same language.
This comes under the "sad, but true" catagory for humanity. And words which are our only true medium for communication are often colored by life to subtleties of meaning that no dicitonary will ever consider. Webster's will never know that the teacher you had in grade school forever ruined a word for you by beating it to death with sarcasm, or misuse. Oxford will never understand that someone else spoiled a word by connecting it to you somehow in a painful way with something heinous.
Even native speakers of a dialiect are subject to the vagaries of human experience---so when you are a might bit "different",
finding someone who speaks your language can be daunting indeed. Now different is a lovely word. For our purposes, I must be a touch more explicit about what different means in my instance, than normally I would dare.
Were we to meet, to might see a woman aged somewhere between 30 and 40, neither frumpy nor fashionable. For five minutes, you might enjoy our conversation---but what will happen next may be determined largely by what and whom you are personally. You see, I am empath. A human mirror. I pick up emotions, generally strong ones and reflect them back to their place of origin. Within a few minutes, people begin to tell me things. That is useful in fact---because when i start "knowing" things they never DO say, it gived me an edge of comfort.
It took me a while to figure out what it is I do. When I was younger, i failed to notice the line between what I had been told, and what I had "picked up" along the way. A few times, it genuinely scared people. They knew themselves well enough to know for damned certain that they had never told someone the stuff I "knew". My only protection was that most people do not believe in the psionic abilities---even the ones who wish they had them.
Those of us who do are left with the wretched task of hiding in plain sight. And every now and again, she catch glimpse of a universal translator. This is someone who is not only gifted, but possesses talents that dovetail with our own. I have met perhaps three such individuals in my life. And the immense relief you feel when you do is unnerving. I liken it to finding yourself living in a land where your native tongue is ancient greek---where there really is not faint hope that you will run into a speaker...and suddenly you hear/feel it...a quiet greeting spoken in a way you cannot mistake. Not a fluke---not a wild talent. Just someone who spotted you in the crowd of creation, and is letting you know they exist as well.
It is heady, and wonderful---and it is horrible as well. Because in the same way that we never wish to lose a true love---you are loathe to lose someone who speaks your language---who knows what it is like to be all too different---and who has mastered the art of "passing" ina world of the headblind.
Those of us who marry will pick a mate as much for their LACK of ability as any other trait. Not because they do not project---EVERYONE projects...but the headblind are like a place of silence where we can retreat. And the romantic notion of finding a soulmate woth whom words are not needed? NIGHTMARE. Because when two of us get together there is a "boosting effect" that can be maddening.
My area is emotion---I read them like words. When I am with someone who can do the same with thoughts, the effect is overwhelming, like living without skin. And while such may be earth shattering in terms of sex, it is not a way you can live.
Nerves need their covering---as do the psionic. So we maintain our distance by surrounding ourselves by the head blind. It is safer---more comfortable.
But sometimes logic and emotion wage a war. It is so damned appealing when we meet our "native speaker" to grab them---to hold them near and not let them MOVE. Appealing, and impossible.
The toy for many vapid minds called the Internet gives the psionic a place to be in safety. Most have no idea how much of their true selves they project---but since you are not face to face, much of the "emotional clutter" is muted. So I can walk calmly---speaking only to those I wish to, and without fear of detection.
We may not burn folks as witches anymore---but we still punish the oddballs with shunning and ridicule. So the gifted hide. not from a wish of being deceptive, but for the need for survival. And you may wonder why I have spoken so plainly to you. I felt the little boost of joy when I started talking. You believe you are one of us---and I must have "recognized" you.
I'm sorry...but no.
You will forget we spoke as soon as your mind goes out of range. I will be an interesting dream---half remembered at best. It won't make you feel deprived or cheated. You will retain your Hollywood belief that these "gifts" are something cool, or wonderful or neat, that can somehow be used to personal advantage.
And I? I will wander on---looking for a moment when I am allowed from time to time to drop the mask, and just BE. They are few and far between---and they fuel me for the rest of the time. I will leave you now to the waking dream you call life.
Namaste.
This comes under the "sad, but true" catagory for humanity. And words which are our only true medium for communication are often colored by life to subtleties of meaning that no dicitonary will ever consider. Webster's will never know that the teacher you had in grade school forever ruined a word for you by beating it to death with sarcasm, or misuse. Oxford will never understand that someone else spoiled a word by connecting it to you somehow in a painful way with something heinous.
Even native speakers of a dialiect are subject to the vagaries of human experience---so when you are a might bit "different",
finding someone who speaks your language can be daunting indeed. Now different is a lovely word. For our purposes, I must be a touch more explicit about what different means in my instance, than normally I would dare.
Were we to meet, to might see a woman aged somewhere between 30 and 40, neither frumpy nor fashionable. For five minutes, you might enjoy our conversation---but what will happen next may be determined largely by what and whom you are personally. You see, I am empath. A human mirror. I pick up emotions, generally strong ones and reflect them back to their place of origin. Within a few minutes, people begin to tell me things. That is useful in fact---because when i start "knowing" things they never DO say, it gived me an edge of comfort.
It took me a while to figure out what it is I do. When I was younger, i failed to notice the line between what I had been told, and what I had "picked up" along the way. A few times, it genuinely scared people. They knew themselves well enough to know for damned certain that they had never told someone the stuff I "knew". My only protection was that most people do not believe in the psionic abilities---even the ones who wish they had them.
Those of us who do are left with the wretched task of hiding in plain sight. And every now and again, she catch glimpse of a universal translator. This is someone who is not only gifted, but possesses talents that dovetail with our own. I have met perhaps three such individuals in my life. And the immense relief you feel when you do is unnerving. I liken it to finding yourself living in a land where your native tongue is ancient greek---where there really is not faint hope that you will run into a speaker...and suddenly you hear/feel it...a quiet greeting spoken in a way you cannot mistake. Not a fluke---not a wild talent. Just someone who spotted you in the crowd of creation, and is letting you know they exist as well.
It is heady, and wonderful---and it is horrible as well. Because in the same way that we never wish to lose a true love---you are loathe to lose someone who speaks your language---who knows what it is like to be all too different---and who has mastered the art of "passing" ina world of the headblind.
Those of us who marry will pick a mate as much for their LACK of ability as any other trait. Not because they do not project---EVERYONE projects...but the headblind are like a place of silence where we can retreat. And the romantic notion of finding a soulmate woth whom words are not needed? NIGHTMARE. Because when two of us get together there is a "boosting effect" that can be maddening.
My area is emotion---I read them like words. When I am with someone who can do the same with thoughts, the effect is overwhelming, like living without skin. And while such may be earth shattering in terms of sex, it is not a way you can live.
Nerves need their covering---as do the psionic. So we maintain our distance by surrounding ourselves by the head blind. It is safer---more comfortable.
But sometimes logic and emotion wage a war. It is so damned appealing when we meet our "native speaker" to grab them---to hold them near and not let them MOVE. Appealing, and impossible.
The toy for many vapid minds called the Internet gives the psionic a place to be in safety. Most have no idea how much of their true selves they project---but since you are not face to face, much of the "emotional clutter" is muted. So I can walk calmly---speaking only to those I wish to, and without fear of detection.
We may not burn folks as witches anymore---but we still punish the oddballs with shunning and ridicule. So the gifted hide. not from a wish of being deceptive, but for the need for survival. And you may wonder why I have spoken so plainly to you. I felt the little boost of joy when I started talking. You believe you are one of us---and I must have "recognized" you.
I'm sorry...but no.
You will forget we spoke as soon as your mind goes out of range. I will be an interesting dream---half remembered at best. It won't make you feel deprived or cheated. You will retain your Hollywood belief that these "gifts" are something cool, or wonderful or neat, that can somehow be used to personal advantage.
And I? I will wander on---looking for a moment when I am allowed from time to time to drop the mask, and just BE. They are few and far between---and they fuel me for the rest of the time. I will leave you now to the waking dream you call life.
Namaste.