Oh. My. Goddess.
I just watched a totally magical kid get completely shut down. And I need to tell you this story, because it has an important ending.
So I was at the grassy park with my dog, and I saw this kid wearing a cape and holding a fake foam sword, fighting off who knows what – dragons, demons, knights. He was splendiferous! Maybe he was like 5. His little chest puffed out, he was ROAARRRing with the invisible battle he raged. He was flailing into his foe. I fricken loved watching him. He was so big, so loud, and so boisterous. What joy!
He was completely engrossed in his invisible world. And, quite frankly, as a shaman lawyer gal who spends a ton of time in the “invisible world” every day, I was impressed with this kid’s passion, his focus, his POWER. I was honestly appreciating his soul as a colleague would. It registered that his guides were “training” him with this apparent imaginary fight in the park. I was relaxing into the vision of this kid as a fully-grown up leader, maybe a speaker, like the next Tony Robbins or something. That’s how big his energy was. And I felt some hope for human kind. I often take some comfort in knowing that kids like this are coming in, with so much energy, so much passion, so much bigness -and that they will be the leaders of tomorrow.
But then I saw it happen. It was subtle. But it broke my heart.
A group of three kids kicking a soccer ball around were kind of circling this kid. They were a little older – two boys and a girl, maybe age 7 or 8. One of the boys in particular was tracking my sword-wielding colleague, and I felt the creepy tickle in my belly even as I watched the next part play out.
The soccer ball bounced off the legs of the little warrior. “Hey, Weirdo, you just missed the ball,” with the little sniggery sneer and the finger pointed and the head and hip cocked and the whole understated bully attitude kid thing.
My little warrior, shaken suddenly from his heroic revelry, literally shrank. His energy body pulled in like a sea anemone who’s been poked in the belly. I know lots of people watching would think this exchange no big deal. But that little warrior – for him, the sudden interruption of his world, and the word “Weirdo” cut him down fast. He stood there, suddenly still, just gazing back at the kids. The girl jogged over and retrieved the ball, shaking her head at him condescendingly. The two boys laughed at the stunned warrior. And the three smugly dribbled the ball away.
Now my little warrior was smacking at the grass with his sword, raging at the ground. He was angry. He was raging but I think there were tears too. I wasn’t quite close enough to tell. And his energy bubble was tight in around him, instead of expanded like it had been. There was pain there. I thought about going over to him, but I could see his mom on her phone sitting on a lawn chair, casually watching him, not far away. I didn’t know what to say to him, or to her. So I watched him walk his zigzag line of defeat – back to his mom.
My legs were tingly, and I felt them fold underneath me as I sat down in the grass and I cried. I cried for myself at that age. I remember being hauled off to the child psychiatrist because I saw imaginary things, had imaginary friends, at that age. Fortunately, that doctor had assured my mom that this was a sign of a “gifted” child, although I always wondered after that if really something was wrong with me. And I cried for my daughter, Clarise, who at that age was sometimes teased for wearing her pink velour cape every dang day, and for constantly pretending she was a kitty-cat at school. And I cried for the lack of imagination, of connection with the unseen world, and for the general loss of soul in our present day culture. It seriously hit me so deep.
And then I felt embarrassed. Because I was sitting there crying over something that most people would think was not-a-thing. Like, most people who had witnessed this little exchange would just say “Oh kids are like that.” And frankly, that is true. Kids are competitive. Kids pick on the “different” one. Kids tease. Like, if someone has walked up to me and said “Why are you crying?” I would have been embarrassed to tell the truth about what I witnessed and felt.
And there – right THERE – is the real problem, in my book.
Energetic sensitivity is a Gift – a marker of deep intuition and creative gifts that are applicable in the real world for innovators, for leaders, for designers of a new reality.
Yet in “normal” culture, we don’t talk about energetic sensitivity as anything except as a problem to get over.
That pisses me off.
We are ignoring the biggest power available to us.
While we all look for “unlimited free energy” we deny ourselves the deepest well of energy and truth we have – the invisible world of the soul, of our inspiration, of the magic that makes life worth living.
So f*** it.
I stand for a new culture – one where the invisible world is just as real as the physical one, and tapped and utilized to make a real difference right here on planet earth.
I stand for a value system that honors our sensitive ones – and recognizes their soul’s genius.
I stand for the kids who are trying to step into their unique power that includes their magic, their bigness, and their creative freedom – so that they can grow up with magic intact to lead this messed up world into a healed state that integrates intellect and intuition – productivity and meaning – reason and magic.
I don’t want to live in a world where magic, play, and imagination are destroyed without anyone even noticing or caring.
Ugh. I feel so alone in this.
Do you know what I’m talking about here?
Dude, please comment here if you do.
I need to know that I’m not the only one who sees the destruction of our magical kids happening in subtle and not-so-subtle ways. And I’d love to hear your ideas – what can we do for these kids?
And thanks for hearing me.
P.S. What can we do for these kids? We need to step up for the magical ones who will be the leaders of our future. If you have ideas, comment here or email me and tell me. Thank you.