Horseshoe Spread (p2.)

Back to being an Empath. Maybe it is a combination of me being blessed with this trait, and the fact that I am a Scorpio. As any other Scorpio or astrologist knows, Scorpios are DEEPLY in touch with our emotions, with the paranormal, with the “dark” side of life that most seem to not want to touch base on or aren’t interested in taking the time to appreciate the beauty of. (Oh, also little known fact. I am an avid Astrologer. I would love to make an entire Scorpio // Astrology post now, but that will take forever and a day and I want to do nothing more than craft it together, perfectly).

With the guidance of having both of these gifts, over the last 3 years I have taken up learning the Art of Tarot Reading. This can be a bit of a sensitive subject, because not everyone has or is willing to take time to understand what the mental, emotional and physical process it takes to do a reading. And a good, whole hearted one at best.

Horseshoe Spread

Okay okay, before you automatically think this is some weird BDSM post let me fill you in on a little known fact about myself. I am an Empath. For those of you that may not really understand what that means, i’ve entrusted my handy dandy search toolbar to do the job.

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em·path
ˈempaTH/
noun
(chiefly in science fiction) a person with the paranormal ability to apprehend the mental or emotional state of another individual.

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My entire life, (not just in my teen years or in my current early twenties, but literally since I was a child) I have always been hyper sensitive to energy, to anything and everything around me. Without even realizing i’ve come in physical contact of a person, something inexplainable happens. I unknowingly embody energy, and it feels as if a warm light surges throughout my body. Starting from my stomach and slowly moving to every area.

It can be a helpful tool, especially when I am trying to do my best at understanding a rough situation (or any situation at that) with my friends or someone I deeply care about. At the same time, it can be exhausting. Especially when it comes to negative energy… I can feel the presence of something foul or rotten as soon as that person walks through the front door. I feel it in the pit of my stomach, to the point where I physically feel ill and start to lose my breath…

Thankfully, a co-worker of mine (she is also an Empath) recently taught me a few tricks to help Protect my Light, Protect my Energy. Working in customer service definitely gives me many oupportunities to practice these tools. I have come to find them effective, but sometimes I cannot help but absorb and sometimes manifest the sadness or annoyance or anger of a person who’s energy is too strong, or if I am caught off guard.

TO MAKE A LONGER STORY LONGER, let me brake these posts into two parts so you aren’t sitting there, scratching your head as to when the hell I am going to talk about this damn horse shoe spread 🙂

 

 

so it all makes sense.

inner–workings.

Noun. (uncountable)

The mechanisms that function internally to a system and are not outwardly visible.

Nobody really understands the inner workings of politics (or of Sarah)

presently being.

I guess I could start off with saying that this is not the first, second, or third time I have attempted to create a “blog” as we call it. There have been many times in my 24 years of living that I have searched the internet for “Free Blog”, “Free Journal”, “Free Diary”. When I was younger, it was more aimed at the purpose to find a safe place to keep my secrets, secret. I never wanted the lurking eyes of my mom and more importantly my older sister to find the harsh words I scribbled onto old pieces of my notebook paper.

They were always keeping watch, always tracking my every move. You would think growing up in such a strict enviorment would keep me sheltered from the chaos of the outside world, or at least keep me away from pressing situations. I think that was a goal my mom had set in her mind when I was just a little girl, but to her horror and more apparent denial, she would never be able accept the fact that the tighter the grip she had on me, the harder I fought to find my way out of it.

But back to what matters… I have had many types of journals since I was young. Even at 8 years old, the most important thing to me was my own space, my privacy. I even went as far as to get some shitty Toys R Us Diary that was voice automated, and would not open unless I spoke a secret password. Sometimes I wish technology was as simple as it was in the late 90’s, early 00’s.

If you haven’t figured it out by now, my mind is always going 1000 miles per hour. Writing out how I felt on paper became unbearable, I had too many memories to formulate into one carefully crafted sentence (or what I like to call now “emotional baggage”). There was absolutely no way I could actively keep on with my day to day blasphemy, without losing my train of thought or getting a wrist cramp from fucking hell.

So, after many “Journals” and endless pieces of paper scratched by my pens and thrown into the garbage, I realized there had to be a easier way to get all this shit of out my head.

I hope you take the words I write lightly, for they are just a screenshot of what really goes on inside my mind. Crazy, but quietly.

This is where I begin.