Empathy

I am not a psychic -- although I think everyone has a little psychic ability. What I am is sensitive. Often overly sensitive, like to a fault. I am quite thin-skinned when it comes to criticism, judgments, perceived slights, imagined expectations of others...I can be my own worst enemy.

This sensitivity, as with most things, can be a blessing and a curse. The curse part is that stuff I just wrote: I can be defensive, afraid of being hurt and withdrawn. This is the posture of someone who is acting in a self-protective manner.

The blessing part? I tend to be extraordinarily aware of my surroundings. This does not imply super powers. It is more a reaction, or a symptom, of concerning myself with what (and who) feels safe and what does not. It is a blessing because I think I perceive things many people miss -- maybe because they're just not all that interested, or because they have no need, or whatever their personal make-up may be.

That perception makes life so much more interesting! Paying attention is delightful when you pick up on things perhaps others are missing: a small bird singing, a friendly smile from a stranger, the way the sun shines on a small patch of greenery. Paying attention can also be a big pain in the behind. Noticing the ugliness and cruelty of our world around us is painful. It is so wasteful. Then, I would just as soon not notice so much. Maybe that's why so many people are walking around totally tuned out.

I consider myself to be empathic. This is a quality beyond sympathy, which is sort of an understanding of a certain perspective. Empathy...well, it's like you are feeling what others are feeling. All of a sudden, you are totally identifying with whatever, or whomever, you have empathy.

I think perhaps this sensitivity, plus the ability to process a whole lot of information at once (of which I'm not particularly aware), produces a feeling, a certain knowing. Sometimes I just know things. Like I said before, I am not psychic -- not anymore than the average person, anyway. Absorbing information, emotion and other indicators like a sponge, can be overwhelming. Especially if you think that it's all your stuff.

It takes time and practice to figure out what is yours and what you're picking up from around you. Sometimes you just have to let it pass through you, or around you, and let it go. I'm working on that.

And sometimes, you invite it in, try it on and try to figure out what to do with it. See if you can do any good with it -- help someone. The tempation to try and fix others' pain can get you in a whole lot of trouble. It's easier with horses than with people. Learning to step back and listen is a good place to start, but you cannot get sucked into someone else's misery. Some are determined to take you down with them!

Anyway...I've certainly come to appreciate the sensitivity of a horse. Here is a creature so highly tuned to its surroundings, it will notice a leaf is out of place from one day to the next. That sensitivity to their surroundings is for self-preservation. It helps keep them alive. Noticing something different makes them extremely aware of change. That big black spot in the woods? Could be a critter waiting to eat me!

Horses are also empathic. They get what you are feeling. This, too, is a form of their self-protection. How cranky is my rider today? What is she lying about? Why is she pretending to be fine when she is not? They can handle fear -- it's indecision and pretense that makes them nervous. They like things straightforward.

When I started touching horses in massage school, sometimes I'd get pictures. Or a story would come to mind. Or, I'd know how the horse was feeling that day. Nothing supernatural about it; I was just picking up a lot of details -- details I probably couldn't itemize, but added together gave me impressions. These impressions helped me know where it hurt. Maybe I just knew to go to a certain part of his neck that day. Or it was in the way he was holding his head. I don't know -- I don't analyze it that much. I just accept it. My imagination? Okay.

One day I was working on a horse and I just had the impression he was so unhappy. I didn't know his background, didn't know what he was used for by his owner. The feeling was nearly overwhelming. I tried to do what I could for him. He certainly hadn't been abused, or mistreated in any way. But that feeling of great unhappiness clung to him, and then to me. It still does, to this day, years later.

I learned a bit of his story. Turns out his great unhappiness was probably due to having the wrong job. Horses need and like having a job -- makes them get up on the right side of their stall every day! When they have the wrong job, when they're being asked to do something their owner wants them to do, disregarding their abilities and make-up, they can be very unhappy about it. That unhappiness shows up in many ways. Some get depressed, some start bucking, some just get mean, some endure. Some adapt, some don't.

I don't know if this horse kept that job, or that owner. What it taught me was to pay attention to how they feel. We can work on muscle aches and pains, provide proper nutrition and exercise, and it still won't necessarily make a happy horse. Do some people care if their horse is happy? Hopefully, most do.

Sometimes circumstances in life, for people and horses, is that we must just do what we need to do. That's just a fact. We try to compromise, in order to survive and endure and hopefully thrive. Feelings cannot always be taken into account.

But, wouldn't the world be a nicer place if they could?