View allAll Photos Tagged HighlySensitivePerson,
“I can never read all the books I want; I can never be all the people I want and live all the lives I want. I can never train myself in all the skills I want. And why do I want? I want to live and feel all the shades, tones and variations of mental and physical experience possible in my life. And I am horribly limited.”
― Sylvia Plath
Soundtrack : www.youtube.com/watch?v=5rOiW_xY-kc
EVERYBODY HURTS – R.E.M.
A Day in the Life of an HSP (Highly Sensitive Person) or What it is to be Me ...
The darkness fell on me like a hungry wolf
and cloaking me in velveteen
it disappeared me into oblivion
The cool wet earth squelched between my toes
and the holes in my boots
widened like the mouths of ravenous dogs
The stench of the marshlands
hit my nostrils full pelt
and brought me to my knees
whereupon it dissipated into nothingness
The moon looked down forming an eye
like the Eye of Horus
and the tree licked with long lashes
the cold night air that seeped through the gaps
and steeped in abject misery time after time elapsed
and the world I'd inhabited for so long collapsed
The limbs of the forest and leaves that fell
and intricate tendrils coiled and toiled
in the frozen breath and the belly of the earth
I felt the cloying darkness descending fast
The carpet of Autumn was widespread
and dawning on me now was the realisation
the dread of Winter was arriving
devoid of polite and solicitous invitation
with total disregard or due consideration
The search for the last leaf left
was fast approaching from every compass point
and I stood still as Winter swept around me
my ankles bitten hard and knees grazed
by the North wind ice-tipped arrows
The Moon was orange and looked warm
as it reflected the Sun back to it
like a mirror at a fairground distorted and forlorn
and hid the truth as even our own eyes thus deceived us
The impression was of the fiercest heat
and the facade kept on growing
building on the illusion
that stills the beating of my heart
the last breath on my lips so blue
the final moment when it comes
is as seamless as the first
and yet the hunger and the thirst
are no longer felt
are surplus to requirement
all that is needed now
is completeness
of the circle of life
and stillness
peace and quiet
profound or without ground
desire no longer felt
and all the sins wiped clean
cleansed and bathed
and laid in readiness
for the cycle to begin again
and again
and again
ad infinitum
world without end
oh the hopeless futility of it all
and yet
I had found love
I had found beauty
I had found a pathway
through every uncertainty
and I kept on going
no matter what
I am small
I am a speck
and yet
I am not beaten yet …
- AP - Copyright © remains with and is the intellectual property of the author
Copyright © protected image please do not reproduce without permission
Peppermint & Assam, the full pause as a storm promised keeps delaying its arrival. Air heavy & languid, fragrant with chestnut blossoms & birdsong. Chatting of Jackdaws, the hollow, owl-like hoot of a dove. New guests come, & French is spoken, its wanting to connect makes up for any broken turns of phrase. The Moon waxes slightly. My mind goes to Summer, then to Autumn, to wondering then knowing, & back to this moment. Bilingual laughter in the garden. The warm, faded aroma of yesterday's sun cream, not washed off because with it would go the salty tides' remnants on shoulders & the crooks of arms. The cleansing remains.
☄💚☄
{{Now the storm has come & gone, not much of a storm, after all, & the Sun & I are back out for slow afternoon walks.. Just after this photo, Ms. Equine Friend there (literally) cantered over to say hi, steal a sip of tea, & make my Dysautonomic self feel a whole lot lighter in spirit.}}
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Ted Zeff, Ph.D., received his doctorate in psychology in 1981 from the California Institute of Integral Studies in San Francisco, CA. He currently teaches workshops on coping techniques for highly sensitive people. He has taught stress reduction and insommnia management for over fifteen years at various hospitals and medical groups
#Rimbo #Roslagen #HighlySensitivePerson #Spirituell #Cross #Clairsentience #Clairsentient #HSP #Evening #Stone #Altar #Kärlek #Love #Ljusmagi #Rituell #Ceremoni #Ceremony #Ritual #Rituals #Magic #HDRPhotography #Magi #Altare #LightMagic #Altaret #Spirituality #Tempel #Photography #HDRPhoto #KensNaturfoton
Know these differences and know yourselves. Let's be transparent.
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rp @leeseareneehall: "Leesa, what's the difference between white fragility and being highly sensitive?"
#WhiteFragility, a term coined by Dr. Robin DiAngelo, and #HighlySensitivePerson, a term coined by Dr. Elaine Aron, seem like they're similar because both refer to emotions.
Where they differ is how those emotions are used when doing anti-racism work.
When emotions are used to suppress, silence, or shut down conversation around racism and skin colour privilege, that's white fragility.
But when emotions are used to express grief around how the culture of oppression diminishes your intuition, empathy, and ability to recognize injustice, inequity, and inequality, that's being a highly sensitive person.
White fragility is rooted in control, dominance, and violence.
Reclaiming your sensitivities is rooted in humility, repentance, and repair.
The only way to move from fragility to being sensitive is to do the deep inner work.
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#diversityandinclusion #nashvilleteacher #antiracism #highereducation #blackhistory #ally #teachershare #blackintheivory #whitefragility #changingthenarrative #ushistory #socialstudies #historyteacher #teacherproblems
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