13486728165_e77c273e5d_z
By Deb Avery

Some of us are a little different.

While everyone else is marching in one direction, not only to the beat of the drums but with the complete accompanying orchestra, some of us are off over here, oblivious to the hoopla, swaying gently to the sounds of bongos and kettle drums that only we can hear.

We are often labeled weird, different, anti-social, sensitive, daydreamers—well, you get the point. Let’s just say, we don’t follow along with the crowds.

Often we are the misfits, the bookworms, the musicians, the writers, artists and poets. We see the world not only with rose colored glasses, but with every other color of the spectrum as well. Sometimes we even use all of them at the same time!

We are also those who can feel the world around us.

We feel it deeply. We talk to other species and listen when they talk back. You’ll find us conversing with flowers in the garden and taking their advice. The bluebirds, lizards, woodland critters and butterflies are our friends. We feel most at home in nature and most out of place when in crowed malls surrounded with bright lights, noisy people and half-price sales.

Not that we don’t like bargains. We do! But it’s the energy surrounding us in these places that tend to overwhelm us. Imagine feeling the energy of the greed, jealousy, envy and all other negative emotions some people carry around with them.

We tend to not like crowds, especially in closed in areas. We much prefer our crowds in a natural setting with at least a few trees and plants to help filter out the negative stuff. But, if we must, we can fit in and be normal—for awhile. But it won’t take long before the energy—the feelings of those around us—begins to bleed into our energies, our feelings and our psyches. We pick up the vibes around us quicker that a sheet of Bounty can suck up a milk spill.

We are made that way.

We are natural receivers of electromagnetic energies that we do not understand, and that most people are not even aware are there.

Those of us who are energy magnets learn from an early age that people often act one way when they really feel completely differently. Children and animals are great at sensing out others authenticity. Yet this can be very confusing for a child. While we hear what adults tell us, on another, deeper level, we feel the true feelings behind the words.

And sometimes, it’s the total opposite of what’s being said to us.

We also learn early in life not to question a grown-up’s motives—at least—not out loud. Should we bring to attention the feelings behind the words, it makes for tense situations, shocked stares, and sometimes even punishment for the child hitting the nail on the head.

I think we are all born with this innate ability—this instinct to feel other’s energy. I think mostly it is simply not understood and many times parents (along with society) become uncomfortable with what they do not understand, and often stifle and smother out this ability. Sometimes a child, who is trying so desperately to fit into the world around them, will bury this ability so deeply in their subconscious that it is forgotten altogether. And by the time the child is entering their teens, that ability or instinct, has completely gone dormant from lack of use.

Then there are us stubborn ones.

Those of us who are brave enough, wild enough or maybe just rebellious enough, that we simply do not make it go away even if we sometimes might wish that we could. We are the ones who continue talking to our animal and plant friends, are natural born animal, plant and mineral whisperers, and bring home the lost and abandoned dogs and cats, and injured creatures of all kinds, much to the disdain of our parents, roommates or partners.

We’re often thought of as the eccentrics, the country dwellers, the tree huggers, who love to live in small houses in the middle of the woods and could care less if we have cable, but must have the internet because most of our friends live some distance away.

As a matter of fact, we probably did not have many friends before internet and Facebook came along to reunite us with our long lost soul brothers and sisters—our tribe. This is especially true for those of us who live in rural areas. Those who live in the cities have a little more luck in running into a tribe member simply because of the larger number of people they come in contact with.

So, here I sit in my back yard with the mighty oaks, maples and poplars snuggling close, my animal friends, a garden devoid of pesticide so the butterflies, hummers and bees can feed often, and I am grateful that I am one of the bongo swaying, animal, tree, flower whispering, all around deeply feeling, eccentric, electromagnetic, energy magnets.

I don’t think I’ve ever been bored a day in my life. See, there are benefits to being weird.

Editor: Daniel Scharpenburg

Photo: Paolo Sarteschi/Flickr

Comments

comments

Deb Avery
Follow me

Deb Avery

Deb Avery is a writer, quasi-hermit and nature lover who lives in the Southern United States along with her 12 year old dog, Sam. Surrounded by mighty oaks and woodlands, Nature is her friend and teacher. She is an avid gardener, reader of books, lover of all beings, who is often referred to as a “bit of a weird one". This she graciously takes as a compliment. She is known to converse with insects, plants, animals, and even herself at times. Volunteering is one of her passions both in the animal world and that of humans. Having lived in many diverse places, including several years abroad, she has learned first hand that deep inside we are all one and the same. She and Sam are often found walking along country roadsides or woodlands, doing yoga and meditating. All of which Sam is much more adept. She has been writing for over two years with The Tattooed Buddha and has previously written for Savana East, elephant journal and Wake Magazine. She also shares her writings and musings on social media.
Deb Avery
Follow me
(Visited 313 times, 1 visits today)