The Heart of an Empath.

I know that the contents of my heart is all I ever really talk about here. I know that to some it becomes annoying, melodramatic and completely superfluous in this busy world that we live in. And yet here it is: another blogpost from my heart.

A friend of mine recently sent me a link asking "is this what life is like for you?" As I squinted at the contrast of the bright cellphone light against the 5am darkness, I found myself sat bolt upright in bed and repeating "oh. my. goodness!" Everything I read was ME - it was describing my every day. Did you know there is a name for someone whose "every experience resides on either end of an extreme?" There is a name for those of us who have so much inside our hearts, we are totally overwhelmed by the intensity of it all. Empaths.

I read the article over and over, and I wept.

You see stories in the eyes of passersby on the street because you see souls instead of irises. 

It's true - I have this glimpse into the hearts and souls of those I meet. I don't notice the irises of their eyes or the colour of their skin, I notice the openness of their hearts. I immediately know who is a good person and who I want to hold close. Occasionally I get this so terribly wrong: I give my heart to someone who doesn't want it, or to someone who doesn't know how to treat something so sensitive and fragile. They take hold of my heart, they smash it to pieces, and they hand it right back.

Like a wet sponge, your body has this tendency of soaking up all the energy around you. Negativity gets sucked into your pores, and affects you so much it almost always ruins your day.

The negativity of those around me is something I take upon myself. I don't necessarily take it personally, but it becomes a part of my being for that day, and therefore affects all those who cross my path. 

Not caring just isn’t an option.

I am constantly told "Sam you care too much. You can't let this eat away at you." And I get it - I do, I get where they are coming from; sometimes I am even inclined to agree. But the root of so many problems in this world is because people don't care enough. World poverty would be eradicated if people cared enough to make it happen. Human trafficking would cease to exist if people cared enough about human rights. Racism would be a thing of the past if people cared enough about the feelings of others. Not caring really is not an option.

This very trait enables you to love the broken. 

I am drawn to the broken. I am a fixer - I want to fix those in need. I want to take their broken pieces, and mixed with mine, I want to turn it into something beautiful - into a mosaic of sorts. Truth be told, sometimes I make a right mess of this. My days are long journeys over mountains of happiness and through valleys of despair. Each night I flop into bed exhausted by the sheer effort of feeling everyone else's feelings.

Love is my favourite topic: it's what I think about, it's what I do, it's what I teach. 

So it got me thinking - to the children I teach, our next generation: what is love? I took aside a small group of 8-9 year olds to find out. We discussed the age-old notion that "love is blind," before I asked them "if love had the power of sight, what do you think it would see on its journey from your heart to another?" 
This is what they came up with: ideas that exude light, innocence and positivity... 

And then I heard it - I heard the words of my heart pouring from the mouth of an eight year old child. A child who had been in quiet contemplation throughout this entire conversation. "Love hurts. I think loving is the most painful thing I have ever done...but I'll never stop. This world needs my love."

You have no control over the intensity of things you feel, or how other people’s feelings affect you. But empaths were born with copious amounts of compassion and endless empathy for a reason. In a world where people numb their feelings and ignore chaos, empaths are there to demand that feelings be felt.

Article credit: Naomi Hon, Elephant Journal