One Page Tightly Wrapped

It has become kind of a thing with me; anything I’m writing that isn’t “Swamis,” it just means something if I can keep it to one page, 12 point, Microsoft Word. This piece is not inspired so much by Trish, who claims she is an empath, and she is, if being one is somewhere beyond intuitive; she is almost always correct in her assessments of people and situations. No, this doesn’t explain her sticking with me for something over fifty years- different thing, that.

I have run into various people who have felt too deeply; a firefighter/EMT who broke mentally before he broke down physically, several veterans who couldn’t cope with what they had seen or done; but the actual impetus was trying to figure out a client who claimed empath status as if… anyway, that got me started, but then, with the love part; yeah, I kind of steered it back to Trish.

Couldn’t help it.

I have surf-related stories I am just saving up. Less than forty pages to polish on “Swamis” and I’m going to put them out there… I mean, here.

Okay, I did run into JOEL KANESHIRO, who works for BING surfboards and was up in the Northwest looking for waves, in a should-have-been-empty parking lot. We actually went out in should-have-stayed-on-the-beach conditions. Pretty sure Joel will go back, report on the total lack of surf around these parts.

                                                EMPATH, YOU SAY

“No, I said I was an empath.” ‘Was an empath’ as in you are no longer an empath? “No, I am an empath… still.” Oh. “Yes, oh.” Okay; so, as an empath, you can… it’s like you can sort of feel what others are feeling; joy, pain, deep, deep depression, anger. Correct? “Pretty much.” Okay then, this, uh, if it’s like you can get into another person’s head, then… “Didn’t say that.” So, then, maybe you only feel emotions that are directed at you. “Why are you going in this… direction.” Not to be mean, or to, um, demean; I just want to understand. Understand you.

“Well then, fine. If, for example, I see someone who is clearly struggling with some issues, emotional issues, I can feel what they, that person is… feeling.” Okay. “You say ‘okay,’ but you keep on… questioning.” No; I’ll stop. “Good.” What am I feeling… right now? “Angry. No, more like… frustrated.” Wow.

“What do you mean, ‘wow?’ You mean, wow: I guessed, but correctly?” Yes. “So, I’m not an empath; just… sensitive?” Definitely sensitive, but are you, maybe, are you sympathetic to how I feel? Am I justified in feeling… frustrated? “No, you’re bringing this frustration on yourself. I feel that.” Okay.

“What do you mean, ‘okay?’ You’re, are you trying to say, again, I only feel for others as it relates to me?” I wasn’t but, yeah, maybe. “Maybe?” Not, uh, necessarily. Do you believe we cry, when we cry; I mean as adults, not out of pain; for others; are we really crying for them as… kind of like that we’re glad it’s them and not us?

“Whoa!” Whoa? “No. Not true.” Am I being an asshole? “Obviously. An empath detects and feels the emotions of others in the same way that person does.” So, that’s, uh… what you’re really saying is you’re more aware, more sympathetic, more… feeling, caring than most… people. “Only because it’s true.” And, because you are, you’re more, we could say, vulnerable? “Probably.” Delicate? “No; that’s different.”

Different. Great; so, hey, you know, I feel for you; delicate flower in a harsh world. “Asshole.” Yes, but you understand me. “No, I don’t know why you have to be that way.” I’m not ‘that way,’ I’m this way. I have my reasons; and even if I didn’t, you would… get it. Me.

“No, you don’t have an excuse, not a real one.”

Oh, but, in my mind, I do. Am I so… self-centered, even narcissistic; me and my blocking or ignoring or not feeling all the pain in the world? “Wait. What you’re trying to say is you’re… pragmatic.” Maybe.

“But, really; it seems like you might be trying to say that I’m… something… negative… about me.”

No, I am trying to say that, maybe, it might be better to understand more and feel less.

“Do you believe that you… understand… me?”

Not even close. But I know that I love you. “You can’t just say that.” I did. “You did.” I had, um, hoped you already knew.

“I, uh, felt like I did.”

Okay. “Okay.”

Image result for photo of empath
Not my artwork. Googled “Empath.” I don’t even come close to qualifying.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.