Empaths & Spiritual Starvation

I recently took my youngest out for a stroll. He is 18 months old, and in the hustle and bustle of appointments, checkups, playdates, and general LIFE with a 4 year old, Little Brother doesn’t often get exploratory time of his own. So, this particular afternoon, we went for a stroll.

I dutifully followed along behind his half-walk, half-run, and watched as he paused every few seconds to hunker down and touch. Every rock, bush, flower, dying leaf begged to be touched. Greeted, almost, like an old friend. It was precious.

I am an empath. I feel people’s emotions as vividly as I feel my own. It’s a boundary-less existence: I often can’t determine what is mine and what is someone else’s except with much quiet introspection. (Motherhood has challenged that, as, with two little boys in the house, “quiet” is a rare and blessed occurrence!) In moments of overwhelm — of which, there are many — I tend to withdraw, drop the portcullis, and refill the moat with alligators. And yet, these days, I am driven to ask: what might I be missing?

My youngest rarely has tantrums and meltdowns as he goes about his quiet way of greeting everything and everyone like friends. He is immersed, savoring, sampling the ambient feel of his environment, accepting all and letting it pass without effort, and I find myself re-evaluating how I approach my interactions with others. I am no stranger to social anxiety — there are times when I head toward a group of people only to spin on my heel with an affirmative “NOPE!” and vanish into the nearest source of nature. But in living highly guarded, am I essentially ‘starving’ myself of connection to Life in its’ rawest form by not approaching with an 18-month-old’s innocent curiosity?

Empaths can’t survive by cutting out their heart, dulling their senses, or numbing themselves to experience in all its forms. Where most people turn to drink or their screens for months or years before problems become PROBLEMS, the highly sensitive among us implode far faster. The “logical” part of us says living heart wide-open is a Huge Risk, but maybe for the empath, whom science has found in recent years is actually non neuro-typical (almost superhuman in the ability to perceive nuances thanks to mirror neurons) the risk of shutting down is far greater. We already know humans are designed for connection, and that disastrous things happen when we isolate, withdraw, shut down: how much more so for empaths and HSPs (another classification)? And in a society that prizes the phone screen over talking to a stranger, selfies over absorbing sunset vistas, social media over intimacy, video games over adventure... how many of us are truly starving ourselves?

My 18-month-old greets random people with a raucous “HELLOoo!” and they immediately coo and touch his outstretched hands and giggle when he cocks his head at them, peering intently at their expressions of delight. But just on the other side of things, a little further on, I watch adults pass by each other without a smile (which are regarded with suspicion) let alone a greeting. If uttered, any words are spoken to the floor, without eye contact.

But I can tell you: my 18-month-old is far happier trotting about his day than many of the rest of us.

Who have you greeted today? When was the last time you had a conversation with a stranger? Your friends? Your family? How many times have you just enjoyed someone’s company without having to fill the space and time with tasks? How often do you take to just absorb the scenery or feel the sun on your face?

As a whole, let’s consider slowing down and savoring not just life, but the company of others who are with us in the journey. ❤️

(Mirrored on Weku)