The well
As an adolescent, I dreamt of reading minds.
That is no joke. There were two novels by Tonke Dragt, an exquisite Dutch author, that featured this phenomenon in a way that made it feel both exhilarating and extremely realistic to me.
“It’s emotion-knowing rather than mind-reading”, one of the characters in those novels said.
If only I could learn how to do this, I used to think. The characters in Dragt’s novels invariably suffered from their talent before they somehow came to terms with it and learned how to use and manage it. I didn’t think for a minute I would suffer. Quite the contrary, I wanted nothing better than to be there with them, connect to them the way they were connecting to each other, and read the undercurrents of the world around me with clarity. (And with respect for people’s privacy and integrity, to be sure. Eavesdropping isn’t considered a proper vocation.)
Now, a quarter of a century later, I think I’m getting the hang of it.
It’s a fine line between empathy, high sensitivity and telepathy. And frankly, I couldn’t care less about the labeling. For it’s all this and none of it, and so much more. It’s knowing emotions, sometimes understanding from a distance, sometimes resonating on the same level from way up close, and it’s invariably about trusting your intuition. It’s also knowing how to filter out your own personal feelings (they have the right to exist, for you, but when zooming into others you have to keep them out or they will distort everything), be respectful and non-judgemental towards everyone (including yourself) and trust the information you receive without declaring it holy and infallible.
Having a vivid imagination helps.
Yes, I know exactly how that sounds.
What I mean is this: from a very young age I have come to work with my imagination as a a favorite tool, and I have developed a relationship of trust with what is perhaps best described as a deep inner well, an infinite source of images, creative notions and innovative ideas. A Muse, a Daemon, divine intuition of personal talent? Whatever: you don’t question the well or the water bubbling up from it, you just receive it and see where it takes you. Sometimes you get gold, sometimes you shovel sh*t. But you keep the well open, at all times.
For me, I find this kind of openness an absolute must in working with intuitive layers. It doesn’t mean I’m making stuff up. (God forbid!) But what I am receiving, in whatever shape or form, is coming to the surface through the same channel that is also used by my imagination when it is sending me messages.
I’m not sure that’s how it works for everyone. In fact, it very probably doesn’t. I know other people whose intuitive judgement I trust completely but who don’t function like this at all. But I have long come to realize that this is how it works for me. And I have been keeping this line open, both on a creative and an intuitive level, ever since.
Sometimes your personal emotions get in the way. Learning how to lovingly put them aside and focus from an inner place of calm, is a necessity.
But there are also other moments, when something else takes over. Sometimes being close to a person is exactly what you need for the information to be correct. Sometimes you have to love a person dearly, from a place beyond your fragile human heart, to resonate completely with the beauty of what you are receiving.
Those connections are rare. They are also precious beyond measure.
And the light of what you are sharing is ablaze with every possible colour.
