"Oh, stop being so sensitive!"

I suppose a lot of people have heard words like that. Truth is, a lot of people are sensitive. According to Dr. Elaine Aron, a research and neuropsychologist, about 15-20% of the population are HSPs, or "Highly Sensitive Persons."

It's easy to look at sensitivity and use the societal negative association that "sensitive" means someone who's a fussy fragile flower who gets their feelings hurt at the drop of a hat. But the sensitivity Dr. Aron wrote about in her 1996 book "The Highly Sensitive Person-- How to Thrive When the World Overwhelms You" isn't quite like that. Dr. Aron is referring to a genetic trait; the way an individual's central nervous system is "wired" in such a way that they experience the stimuli of the world very intensely and forcefully. And this is not some kind of pathology or psychological disorder-- studies of the brains of HSPs vs non-HSPs (using EEG and fMRI scans) shows that the brain of an HSP actually fires DIFFERENT neural pathways from a "normal" brain, when exposed to the SAME stimuli.

A large part of my work involves HSPs, and helping helping this particular group understand themselves a little better. I am an HSP, myself, as well as 25+ year student of psychology. And I KNOW-- from interacting with others, and from myself-- that it's NOT "just in my head," as many health/mental health professionals would prefer to think.

Perhaps YOU are an HSP, whether you're aware of it, or not.

In the US, alone, there are at least 40 million people who fit the parameters of being HSPs-- and yet, on a GOOD day, maybe... maybe one million are aware that the strange "quirks" and moods, and their desire to find time alone, are the biproduct of high sensitivity, rather than depression, anxiety, SAD or some other "illness."

Are YOU an HSP?

If you don't know, here's a quick and easy "sensitivity self-test." Take the quiz... and post a comment to let me know how it went, and if the outcome was surprising, or "what you'd expected."

Sensitivity self-test

Even if you're not an HSP, odds are you know someone who is.

So why is this important, or significant? After all, there are lots of "groups" with traits that are a little "different:" People with size 14 feet, or people who are under five feet tall, or people with ADD, or whatever.

It's important because some of the natural manifestations of high sensitivity are "lookalikes" with anxiety disorders, depression and various other other conditions which are "medicalized" and treated with pharmaceuticals. The point being-- millions of people are being mis-diagnosed and drugged into oblivion... for nothing more than being part of the spectrum of normal human experience.

I seem to "check out" from time to time. It's not something I consciously decide to do, it "just happens."

I suppose everyone does, to some degree, in response to stress, sadness, anger or some other overwhelming feeling. After all, even the classic "counting to 10" could be seen as a form of checking out, if you think about it.

Checking out probably works fine when it lasts a few minutes, or a few hours. My "problem" seems to be that it tends to last a LOT longer than that, when I "leave." When I check out, it can last a few weeks. Or a few  months. Of course, that makes it really hard on people, especially here in cyberspace where a connection depends on regular email and such. It also makes it hard to keep going with a blog... a lot of times I'll be going great guns and the ideas are flowing, and next thing I know I just... STOP.

I recognize that part (at least) of this tendency has to do with my being an HSP (Highly Sensitive Person), meaning that my nervous system simply gets overloaded. But whereas understanding the underlying physiology is helpful, it doesn't really address the issue, itself. I expect it's probably also a response to my being the introvert that I am, and yet being able to "extravert myself" to be very much in the world for some time... at the end of which I feel thoroughly exhausted. It's complicated, and confounding... especially for those around me.

I suppose I shouldn't really be too worried, since I am fairly aware of-- and at peace with-- this part of me. The main place of concern is the people around me. There's a very small inner circle who seem able to "handle" this part of my beingness-- and to them, I am very grateful. For everyone else... I suppose it's an "acid test" of sort, to determine if they are willing to put up with this ideosyncracy.

Whenever I go to a retreat, I tend to end up feeling very quiet, afterwards. Often this inner silence lasts for several weeks; sometimes even for months.

At the beginning of this month, I found myself in Estes Park, CO for a retreat for HSPs (Highly Sensitive People-- see www.hsperson.com for more). Except, this time it was a little "different." Instead of finding myself as "one of the crowd," as I typically do, I found myself in the position of being co-host, and also facilitator of a couple of workshops... one with the help of another person, one by myself.

As a fairly strong introvert who prefers to work "behind the scenes," my time in Estes Park was all about pushing outside my normal "comfort zones." I am not someone who's likely to get up in front of a group of people to teach... but somehow I seemed to "fall into" the role, at this particular moment.

Which just goes to show you that life often brings us precisely what we need.

Whereas I have been enjoying my own post-retreat silence, I have also felt a great deal of joy at the fact that the web group created for the participants is "hopping." I got to witness people make real and profound connections, and I got to witness people experience life-changing insights... both a great privilege.

I would imagine quite a few people in the zaadz community are "HSPs." If you're not sure, visit the web site at the end of the link, above. Who knows-- maybe you'll discover something new about yourself.

"Well, it didn't...."

"I've never...."

"I can't seem to..."

Maybe it's just part of the human experience to occasionally find ourselves with words like these, running through our minds.

As someone who engages in the process of intentionality and "creating reality," I do occasionally find myself in one of those spots where I ponder what "went wrong" and what I "failed" to create.

This morning, I realized that the consistently "tricky bit" for me lies in pausing to look at what I perceive to be a "negative" outcome, and paying attention to what I DID create, rather than what I FAILED to create. It can be quite difficult to figure out what IS present, when we get all wrapped up in disappointment over what failed to appear.

The greater life lessons tend to come in recognizing what we are doing, when we end up creating something we don't want. And in recognizing the lessons. For example... for me, a long pattern of feeling deep affinity and love for things and people I "couldn't have" was my lesson in letting go of my attachment to specific outcomes.

Just let it be.

It's not easy, though... because what we perceive as "failures" tends to muddy our thinking and reasoning.

A friend of mine "rails against the machine," with eternal enthusiasm. Even though I admire his energy and tenacity, his actions tend to remind me of Don Quixote, and tilting at windmills. Over the years, I have met many "activists" who follow similar paths... and I inevitably end up with mixed feelings. I feel joyous that they are being active agents in life, and yet I also feel sad that they usually are pouring all their energy into "band aids."

Perhaps it is only a "Western Thinking" approach to life, but it strikes me more and more that we put a whole lot of effort into "curing symptoms," rather than "healing wounds."

Normally, it's a paradigm we attribute to the medical and psychological professions. Someone presents at the doctor's office with a pounding headache and says "Doctor, I have this terrible headache!" The doctor scratches his head and says "Let me write you a prescription for some pills that will take care of it." Patient takes the pills and the headache disappears. Two months later, the same patient is back at the doctor's going "Doctor, I have this terrible headache!" And the doctor duly says "Let me renew your prescripion." And so it goes. In the mental health field, therapists swear by (often brief) Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT), as a means to get their clients "functioning" again. I should know, as I have been treated thusly, on several occasions.

The fundamental problem is that nothing is healed. Both the patient with the headache, and the client receiving CBT amount to "temporarily pain-free wounded people."

The same holds true, on a much greater scale. I was reminded of this by an email circular I received this morning from someone who's trying to make a difference to how people think, and it (in turn) reminded me of the windmill-tilting friend I mentioned, up top, Said friend is constantly campaigning against the "evils" of organized religion, and the abuses and atrocities committed "in the name of God." He believes that if only people would "wake up," they'd understand what a "bag of goods" they have been sold, by what he describes as "religionists."

Now, I have no problem with someone protesting atrocities, nor do I have a problem with his issues with God and religion. But it saddens me that he will never make any headway, because "religion" is nothing more than a "symptom" of deeper issues.

As I see it, as long as there is FEAR in the world, there will be a "need" for religion and God. Fear is the original wound here; like the "cause" beneath the headache. People fear the unknowable and the overwhelming and the horrific, and reach for "quantifyable" explanations. As such, if my friend REALLY wants to change the world's paradigm... shouldn't he be out there healing people's fear, rather than painting "God" and "religion" as the cause of all evil? And after all, isn't the aspect of God and religion that causes such outrage centered around pandering to, and preying upon, people's fears?

It seems to me that we often get "stuck" (as individuals, as a race of conscious beings) because our challenges feel "too great," and thus "overwhelming." So we look around for something easier to face... like the symptoms that lie above our true wounds.

My moments as a writer are very fleeting. That is, my moments of true clarity and insight are fleeting... and if I don't capture them there and then, they vanish on the breeze... even something as trivial as needing to go to the bathroom will interrupt the flow.

Of course, I still "write," but in a much more pedantic and workmanlike way... even though I've had what I perceive as "pedantic" described by others as "better than 99% of the population. In the end, it's my own perception that counts; that's my frame of reference. And, to me, it feels flat and two-dimensional.

My inner struggles with writing revolve around finding balance between solitude and connection. My inspiration comes from connection, and from touching a myriad points of energy-- people, ideas, thoughts, feelings, events... but the insights about them only flow in solitude. When I sit alone, in retreat, and think "Wow, now I will have peace and quiet to write!" rarely does anything of value flow.

I suppose we all have different "sticking points" in our journeys. Blockages, if you will. In those contexts, our self-perception is typically quite different from the "other-perception."

I am a "teacher" of sorts; I am seen as a "mentor" by a rather large (and growing) number of people. Some part of me shrinks from those terms, because I worry about people putting so much faith in someone (that would be me) who doesn't really have any answers. On reflection, the only worthwhile thing I feel I can share is to encourage people to find their own answers, and to recognize that their unique answers come from within them... not from somewhere "out there."

The first time I heard some variation on that theme, I thought it was the most trite and overused cliché on the planet. It just annoyed the *%$#(& out of me.

Perhaps the ultimate epiphany comes when we recognize... and truly embrace... the importance of thinking for ourselves.

I used to run a lot.

I used to be part of what I now think of as "Striver Culture."

Not necessarily in the sense that I was caught up in Korporate Amerika, as many people are, but in the sense that I bought into society's meta messages about the definitions of "happiness" and "success." So even though I wasn't busting my butt working for "the man," I was still busting my butt working towards some nebulous goals that weren't even defined by myself.

How often do we do this? How often do we run off to blaze something we interpret to be "Our Own Path," even though it's no more "ours" than a park bench we happen to choose to sit and eat our bagged lunch on?

You know what's funny, about society? In the post WWII years, there was an economic boom centered around the basic principle of bringing people a more "modern and convenient" life, through a number of "aids" and "time savers." The bottom line was that they would give us "more leisure time." Sixty years later, we live in a world that revolves around working 70 hours a week to make enough money to buy all the "gadgets" that will save us time so we can have more leisure time... except... we're at work, trying desperately to keep up with the income needed to add ever more "content" to our lives.

It's a real challenge, to stop running.

So many people have good intentions, but simply don't know how. I know lots of people I'd characterize as "Genteel Greens." They don't want the rat race, but they also don't want to give up the $2500 mortgage payment, and the two new Volvos.

I'm not saying you have to adopt an ascetic lifestyle to find some measure of inner peace and meaning, away from the rat race. Even though, of course, the relative state of "being without" so much may feel somewhat ascetic-like.

Going overboard in the opposite direction from materialism (as far as I can tell) does little more than trade one form of suffering for another. And who needs that?

The point isn't really about some wholesale "giving up" of everything we once pursued. It's about thinking for ourselves, rather than automatically accepting and endorsing the meta messages from the world.

There's a happy medium, out there. Not long ago, I was having a discussion (well, almost "an argument") with someone, about clothing. The dilemma? Giving up designer labels vs. saving money but supporting the likes of WalMart. She got snippy with me for taking this "responsible citizen" stance, and yet owning "nicer" clothing.

I said "All these 'nicer' clothes were bought second-hand from a thrift store, not from the chain store that made them."

She said "Eeeewww, that's icky! Other people wore them."

My point of this story is that there's typically more than two answers, in almost every situation-- something beyond yes/no or black/white.

But getting back to the topic of "simplification," it's not merely about "removing content," it's about taking an inventory of our lives. It's about knowing ourselves well enough to understand why things are in our lives, and then being able to evaluate whether they have a "purpose" for us, independently of our preconceived notions about what they "should" mean to us.

It's easy to evaluate the content of our lives, and view the simplication process merely in terms of "objects," since they are (after all) the most readily visible "monuments to clutter" we have. But there's more to it, than that.

When I found myself in the middle of a major simplification and "reinventing of self" I also realized that I needed to simplify my choices. And my ostensible "needs," in terms of how much "content" I felt compelled to bring into my life. And I needed to simplify relationships, friendships, habits, and thoughts.

"Content" is a big one, because we are bombarded with so many messages telling us that we are either "lazy" or "missing out" if we aren't filling every waking moment of our existence with some "activity." Even if we give up the rat race, we're still pressured to "do" something with all that newfound time, so it "doesn't go to waste." So we join a dozen non-profits, volunteer all over the place, get involved in a myriad actions and causes...

... and arrive home, at the end of the day, almost as exhausted as we were during that corporate advertising job we gave up.

Simplify the content of life.

It's really OK.

It's OK to sit out on the front porch with a cool drink and just look at what's passing by.

It's also OK to be involved in a myriad things.

As long as it is YOUR choice, not a choice made by "something else."

Cyberspace (and the greater world around us) is filled with a myriad people, all of whom-- on one level or another-- are looking for "connection."

Maybe we are just looking to "connect" with some piece of information, maybe we are looking for our version of "Epic Love" with that ONE person we believe is exactly whom we want to share our lives with.

Whatever our motivations, in our daily dealings we meet scores of people, we surf hundreds of web sites, and we join any manner of "social networks," be they anything from Zaadz to MySpace to a private discussion group for people who collect Peruvian wood carvings.

There's something odd going on, however. Even as we have more connective possibilities than ever, people seem to feel more DIS-connected than ever. Why? It seems so many have grown afraid (or merely unaccustomed?) to reach out.

We see, but we choose to not interact. We stay disengaged; detached. We find something that moves us, but we stay "the observer," instead of interacting.

When we observe a kindness, or something that moves us, we "recognize" it, but we don't take the time to actually TELL the person-- a stranger perhaps-- that we really were moved by their act of kindness. If we read a book that changes our lives, we don't take five minutes to drop a note to the author, expressing our appreciation.

In a much smaller "microcosm," I read people's words of wisdom here on Zaadz-- in their blogs-- and find myself to frequently be the ONLY person to take a few seconds to say "Thanks. You made me think, today."

Instead, we recognize the "goodness" we see, but we move along... doubtful, perhaps, that our few words of gratitude would mean anything. Fearful, perhaps, that our feedback would be rejected. Hesitant, perhaps, because we worry that our sharing will be seen as an unwelcome intrusion.

And so, we go home. And we feel disconnected from the world; from the people in it; from the Source.

SOMEone has to take the first step. Waiting for "someone else" to initiate is a fool's game that never begins.

Make a difference. Reach out.