Your Rainforest Mind

Support For The Excessively Curious, Creative, Smart & Sensitive


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Finding Your Soul’s Mate, Your Authentic Voice, and the Right Hair Products

photo courtesy of lotte meijer, Unsplash

During tumultuous times, it may be harder to be single. I can attest to this. And I’m a super-introverted, independent type with a sweet gaggle of girlfriends and an Argentine tango habit.

But still.

No one is tracking my whereabouts. There is no daily contact with one particular human. When I travel, there is no responsible person making sure I’ve arrived. If I were to meet my demise, it could be days before anyone started looking for me. Well, OK, my lovely clients would be concerned, when I didn’t answer the door. And, you, dear readers, would start asking, now where the heck is the next blog post after about a week.  Wouldn’t you?

But, there is no designated person whose job it is to notice.

Most of the time, I’m OK with that. I don’t idealize partnerships. I’m a psychotherapist, for heaven’s sake. I’ve been partnered. I’ve seen the re-enactments of childhood trauma or parental discord or other assorted permutations of unaddressed familial legacies. The partnering thing is tricky. Complicated. Even with a mate, you might still go unnoticed. Untracked.

I know this.

But these days. I’m feeling some pressure to find a partner. You understand. It’s crazy out there. Hard to face the daily news alone. One can only dance so much tango. Or read so many books on spiritual awakenings. Or email your girlfriends with your latest angst-y rant. Or write another blog post and get fabulous feedback from your adoring fans. At some point, a person has to surrender. Admit that being single when it feels like the sky is falling is not very appealing.

And then a person has to do something.

But, what?

Well, first. If this describes you, too, there are books I recommend. For starters. The Course of Love by Alain de Botton and The Eden Project by James Hollis are both excellent reads on the psychological complexities of partnering. Good to know what you’re getting into. (and actually also great if you’re already in a partnership) Quirkyalone by Sasha Cagen (who is also a tango dancer, by the way) is a funny little book in support of single “uncompromising romantics.” Then, if you’re up for a deep dive and some self-psychoanalysis, try Keeping the Love You Find by Harville Hendrix. It’s an oldie but goodie.

Of course, if these books help you realize that you’re not quite ready for a relationship because of the assorted permutations of your unaddressed familial legacies, then, well. Look for a good therapist. (You knew that was coming.) Or if you’ve had trouble over the years just finding friends because of your rainforest-y traits, read these posts. And, of course, you may prefer the single life! There’s some good research out there about the many benefits.

In my case, as you can imagine, I’ve read the books and been in various therapies for much of my adult life. Deeply diving into the layers of my psyche. Addressing my very own familial legacies. Discovering my authentic voice, accepting my curly overexcitable hair whole Self, and discovering my capacity to blog love along with my long lost sense of humor.

So, dearest readers, I surrender. I’m telling you and the world that I’m ready to meet my designated person whose job it is to notice. Who will track my whereabouts. Who will join me in conjuring spells to keep the sky from falling. Who will appreciate my capacity to blog love and has discovered his own vast capacity to dance tango love. Who has found his long lost sense of humor. And faced his own assorted permutations.

After all, as the saying goes:

~ If you build it announce it on your blog, they will come. ~

And, hey. I’ll be sure to let you know when he does.

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To my most patient and forgiving bloggEEs: I really don’t know where this post came from. I welcome your comments but don’t worry that I’ve gone off the deep end. I think this over-sharing will resolve itself in a few days. Thank you for indulging me. And for those of you already with your mates, let us know how you met!

This post is part of a blog hop created by the dedicated people at Hoagiesgifted. Click on the image to read more posts about relationships and giftedness.

 

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A Love Letter to You and Your Rainforest Mind

Me in Paris airport 2005 throwing you a kiss

Dear One.

Yes, you. With that dazzlingly intense rainforest mind.

You have so much Courage.

To be here, on this planet, during such tumultuous times. To stay sensitive, empathetic, and compassionate. To perceive and feel the human layers of suffering, despair, rage, fear, and sorrow. To stay open to your deepest emotions. To speak out against injustice. To develop your intuitive abilities even when not-knowing might make your life easier.

You have so much Strength.

To be willing to face your own demons. To persistently uncover the painful patterns of shame, depression, and anxiety handed down to you from your parents and their parents before them. To unravel the legacy of abuse within your ancestral line so that the generations after you experience greater self-acceptance and inner peace. To understand and process your own fear and rage. To choose the extraordinarily long hard road of introspection and analysis so that you might live authentically and compassionately and so that all children might have better lives.

You have so much Intellect.

To allow your curiosity to run free through the multiple pathways of your effervescent layers. To gobble up as much learning as you can manage. To know that “you think too much” translates into “you breathe too much” and, no, there can never be too much air thinking. To use your capacity to problem solve for healing yourself, your family, and your community while maintaining healthy boundaries and limits and time for the seventeen books piled next to your bed.

You have so much Sensitivity.

To appreciate and trust the intricate beauty and power of the natural world. To maintain your idealism and optimism in spite of the evidence. To let your awarenesses enhance your creativity. To persist in finding your particular art form as a way to express and soothe your sweet soul and the soul of the world.

You have so much Spirit.

To keep looking for Love in spite of the bullies, in spite of your difficulty communicating with the multitudes of slower, simpler thinkers. In spite of your lonely heart. To expand your awareness into the invisible world. To receive the powerful Love and guidance from the Universe. To build your particularly rainforest-y spiritual practice. To allow yourself to become all that you can be; More than you ever thought possible.

More than you ever thought possible.

Dear One. Yes, you. With that dazzlingly intense rainforest mind.

We. Love. You.

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To my bloggEEs: I am so moved by each of you as I read your comments and your emails and as I meet you online and in my practice. I’m so honored to be able to provide you with support. This love letter comes from me with a little help from my own spiritual network of Guides. I have a sense that there are loving Beings in the Universe who are cheering us on. They’re saying thank you, right now, as we speak.

And for a little treat, I want to show you one of my “art forms.” I found an old video of me taking a tango lesson from 2004. As you know, I recommend the Argentine tango for RFMs looking to find each other and connect. Here’s a chance to see what it’s like! Enjoy!

 


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So, You’re Gifted. Who Cares and Why Does it Matter?

photo courtesy of Jeremy Thomas, Unsplash

It matters. Even if no one else cares. It matters that you know. And that you care.

Why? you ask with that quizzical oh-so-disarming look of yours. (Yes, I know that look.)

Because, my darling:

You will understand that what you imagined were your poor communication skills, was actually your inability to slow your super-speedy thoughts. Not to mention your assumption that everyone thinks as deeply, as quickly, and as multi-dimensionally as you do. They don’t. (This does not make them terrible people. I know. It just means that they might not comprehend your perturbations.)

You will give yourself permission to be the voracious learner that you are. To let yourself dive into the esoteric, obscure, mysterious, complex topics that other people can’t possibly grok and wouldn’t want to.

You will allow yourself to be obsessed with beauty, balance, harmony, precision, and justice. (Your healthy perfectionism.) Even if it means that you don’t get as much done because you’re crying over the majesty of the night sky.

You will have compassion and appreciation for your ridiculously high standards and expectations and your need to ruminate over the exact wording of your email to the plumber.

You will understand why you’ve been lonely all of these years and stop thinking it’s because you don’t smile enough, don’t make small talk, or because you suck at sports.

You’ll find an appropriate career path or two or ten.

You’ll protect your sensitivity and empathy from the assault of perfumes, ragers, leaf blowers, chemicals, clamoring hoards, noisy chewers, creepy humans, nasty Facebook messages, boring lectures, and houses that are painted orange.

You will understand that what looks quirky, eccentric, weird, and geeky to others is what makes you fascinating.

You will stop misdiagnosing yourself with labels such as OCD, ADHD, bipolar disorder, Aspergers, slacker, weird, or just-plain-crazy. (And, sure, you may be twice-exceptional, 2e, and have a particular diagnosis along with your rainforest mind, but there’s a whole lot of misdiagnosing goin’ on, too. So you’re gonna stop that now.)

You will appreciate your curiosity and your questioning of everything. And you’ll continue to search for meaning, purpose(s), and justice. This will result in benefits to your children, neighbors, relatives, friends, animals, plants, ancestors, the planet, and humanity at large.

Let me say that again in a different way.

Knowing that you are gifted, matters. It will explain what might otherwise create confusion, self-doubt, anxiety, depression, angst, or despair. It will allow you to blossom into the best human that you can be.

And this will result in benefits to your children, neighbors, relatives, friends, animals, plants, ancestors, the planet, and humanity at large.

Even if they don’t know that they care.

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To my bloggEEs: This is for those of you who may actually accept that you have a rainforest mind but are still wondering why it’s important that you know it. What’s your reaction to this post? What else do you need to know that will help with your self-acceptance? Thank you, as always, for being here. And, I have a request. If you’ve read my book, can you take a moment and write a review on Amazon? It doesn’t have to be long or perfect. 🙂 (And if you haven’t read it, well, now would be the optimal time, doncha know…)

 

 

 


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Don’t Give Up On Yourself And Your Rainforest Mind

photo courtesy of Nadim Merrikh, Unsplash

Don’t quit. Don’t stop striving. Don’t stop growing. Don’t stop believing.

Don’t give up on yourself.

Even if you grew up in a family of chainsaws. Even if you have been told over and over and over that you’re too sensitive, too dramatic, too smart, too quiet, too noisy, or too weird. Even if you think you’re too old or too young or too whatever. Even if you’re overwhelmed by politics or racism or natural disasters or anxiety or depression or physical disabilities. Even if you procrastinate. Even if you’ve changed jobs multiple times and never learned how to build rocketships and send them to the international space station. Even if your hair is curly and free range. Even if you don’t look like George Clooney or Beyoncé.

Even if you haven’t partnered with the person of your dreams and you don’t have perfect, high achieving children. Even if you feel like too much and not enough at the same time. Even if you’re post-menopausal. Even if you’re grieving for the planet and are anxious about the future. Even if you’re gluten-free. Even if you can’t leave your home. Even if you don’t have a home. Even if you haven’t renovated the school system. Even if you didn’t go to Harvard. Even if you did go to Harvard. Even if your curiosity has been misinterpreted as arrogance and know-it-all-ness. Even if you weren’t popular in high school. Even if you can’t decide what to eat for breakfast. Even if you can’t afford psychotherapy. Even if you’ve been in psychotherapy for years. Even if you don’t speak seven languages fluently. Even if you’re seen as extremely successful in your field and yet you still feel bereft and lonely. Even if you haven’t saved the world. Yet.

Don’t stop believing.

You never know. You could be a late bloomer. You could start tango dancing at 47. You might become a blogger at 62. You might get your first book published at 64. You could discover that people around the world love and admire you. You could be helping smart, sensitive people self-actualize and find their purpose(s). You could finally accept and love your curly free-range hair.

You could finally know beyond a shadow of a doubt, that. you. are. gifted.

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To my bloggEEs: I am so inspired by all of you and so grateful for our community. Let us know your thoughts, questions, and reactions to this post. Your comments add so much! And thank you for being here. This post is part of a blog hop from the amazing site hoagiesgifted.org. For more posts on the topic: Things I Wish I Knew Back Then, click on the image below. And for those of you who are parents of gifted children, here’s a little treat. My colleague, Tina Harlow, edited this eBook that has lots of great advice from professionals (including me!) in an easy-to-read format. It’s available free to download.


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If You’re Gifted, Are You Responsible for Everyone and Everything Until the End of Time?

photo courtesy of Ayo Ogunseinde, Unsplash

The following questions can plague the rainforest-minded:

If someone asks you for help, and you have the skills that they need, are you always supposed to say yes to them?

If someone asks you for help, and you have the skills that they need and you say no, should you feel utterly and totally guilty for the rest of your life?

If your intuition is often accurate, and you pick up information about someone, are you responsible for telling that person what you suspect is true about them?

If you can see into someone’s wounded soul and you have compassion for them, but in everyday life they’re toxic, manipulating creeps, do you have to keep being their friend?

There are many other questions, of course. Bazillions of them. But the above questions are in a particular category. It’s: If I’m gifted, I must be responsible for using my gifts to the fullest capacity possible all of the damned time.

That category.

You’ve probably heard this all of your life. From relatives, teachers, religious leaders, and yourself. And I get it. It makes sense that you should develop your gifts; that you want to be of service. That you feel a drive to make a difference. To use your superpowers for good.

It’s why I write this blog. I’m driven to be of service to you. So that you can rediscover your strength and your confidence, and walk your many paths to self-actualization, human evolution, and planetary healing.

But there are limits.

Yes, even you. have. limits.

For example:

You have a body that you must take care of. You actually need to sleep. Your sensitivity, empathy, and intuition need to be protected and nourished. There’s only so much time.

If you grew up in a chainsaw family, you’ll have a young child part who learned that they had to be perfect or risk abandonment or annihilation. That child will need your attention, understanding, and love.

And here are some other things that you may need to learn:

You’ll want to learn the difference between obsession with and excitement over a new project that is so very intellectually stimulating that you forget to eat or bathe for days on end. (Yeah.)

Versus–

When you’re responding to just one more email from your clamoring friend or coworker who just has one last teensy weensy request: that you design, write, and print the programs for their long lost fourth cousin’s memorial gathering and you edit the eulogy and order the flowers after you bake their nephew’s favorite cheesecake and don’t forget that it has to be gluten-free and bring your violin to the service just in case… so that you don’t have time to eat or bathe for days on end. (Nah.)

Not only that.

You’ll want to learn that you can’t possibly say yes to every request that you get, even if you could do it faster and better than anyone else available. Just because you are able to do it, doesn’t mean you have to. It would be impossible to actually do everything that you can do. You will have to say no some of the time.

You’ll want to learn that you have a right to select your friends carefully. If you find yourself doing all of the listening and supporting, you may need to say bye-bye. If you always feel drained or weird after visiting, bid them adieu.

You may have highly developed intuitive abilities. This is particularly tricky. When do you share what you know? How do you protect yourself from people with terrible boundaries who will never get enough no matter how much you give? Use that intuition of yours to know when and how much to share. I just started reading a new book by Christiane Northrup on this topic. It looks good so far. You have a right to protect your intuitive/spiritual self from assault.

Do you hear me?

Sure. You will likely want to create a life of meaning, purpose, and service. You may even be heading toward self-actualization, human evolution, and planetary healing, as we speak.

Just remember, even though you’re gifted, you’re not responsible for everyone and everything until the end of time.

I mean it.

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To my darling blogEEs: Do you feel responsible to help others no matter the cost? Do you have a hard time saying no and setting healthy boundaries? Tell us about it. How have you learned to set limits? Thank you for sharing. Know that I read all of your comments carefully, even if I don’t respond to all of them.


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Who Were You Before You Learned That You Are Supposed To Be Normal?

photo courtesy of Annie Spratt, Unsplash

“I have been trying to run myself on the do-your-best-to-fit-in-with-normal-people operating system. It’s not my original operating system. It’s the one I adopted when I was abused in various ways for being myself. I perfected it in school and at work, forcing myself to do all the boring and pointless things and to make myself take up less space.

What do I remember of the original proto-version? I was dreamy. I wandered in the woods. I read fantasy. I read entries in the encyclopedia. I loved puzzles and make-believe. I wrote stories and poetry. I did math for fun. I felt connected to the wild…”  ~BP

Who were you before you learned that you were too much and not enough? Who were you before you stopped singing, dancing, and asking questions with unself-conscious glee? Who were you before you learned that voracious reading instead of homework was unacceptable? Who were you before you stopped crying?

Might it be time to rejuvenate that person? Bring that person back to life? Time to say the hell with normal?

You betcha.

There is no better time. Normal isn’t looking so good these days.

So where do you begin? It might be a frightening prospect if you had a chainsaw family or if you were told that you were crazy or inadequate. Or if you experienced bullying or abandonment or racism. Or if you were told that your intelligence was hurting others or that you should feel guilty because you’re so smart or if you believed them when they called you a know-it-all and a show-off.

So, let’s start small-ish. Make a list of reminders and steps that you can take today. Here are examples adapted from one rainforest mind’s list.

~ Binge read with abandon.

~ Engage with creativity. Make things. Make music. Dance. Be bad at it.

~ It is not elitist or selfish to make sure that what I do is worthy of my precious time and energy.

~ Allow time for deep dives. It’s OK to be obsessive with my research and learning. It’s how I tick.

~ Spend time in beauty. Let nature hold the complexity; let indoors hold a beautiful simplicity.

~ Minimize boring work. Either ask for help, find better tools, or question whether it needs to be done.

~ Be kinder to myself. Stop putting everyone else first. Set healthy boundaries. Take time to rest. Take some of the pressure off. Stop burning the candle at multiple ends. Feel my gratitude in the present moment.

~ Notice when I feel the compulsion to get online. Am I needing self-soothing? Am I bored? Am I lonely? Is there another choice I could make that would be more expansive, connecting, and real?

~ Find and nourish important friendships. Tend those friendships with people who are truly supportive, are not threatened by me, and who laugh at my jokes.

~ Connect to the wild.

~ Let resentment or rage or terror be a sign that I’m being triggered. It may be an old response, borne of being a helpless rainforest-minded kid in a chainsaw world. Remind myself that I’m no longer powerless. People in authority are not my parents. Soothe and love my child-self. I have great respect for myself for the courage it takes to be in therapy.

~ Follow my weird. I must actualize the beauty and power inside me.

~ Get back to being idealistic, optimistic, funny, and intuitive. It’s time to acknowledge and open more to my strengths. I can find my particular rainforest-y way to make the world a better place.

~ Listen to the original cast albums of Dear Evan Hansen and Hamilton over and over. Sing with You Will Be Found.

~ Be dreamy. Take up plenty of space. Return to my glee. Say a fond farewell to normal.

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To my bloggEEs: Did you make your own list? Can you share some of your list with us? Thank you, as always, for being here. I’m sending love and appreciation from my heart to yours. And thank you to the reader who provided the inspiration and the content of much of this post.

I think there’s still room in the Gifted Women Symposium in Denver, June 2, 2018. I’d love to see some of you there. And July 20-22, 2018, there’s the SENG conference in San Diego. Not only will I be presenting but Tom Clynes of The Boy Who Played With Fusion is a keynoter. Please come find me if you attend!

 


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How Will You Know a Gifted Adult When You See One?

photo courtesy of Joanna Nix, Unsplash

How do you know that you’re with a gifted adult?

There are clues.

It probably won’t be obvious. And they certainly won’t tell you. In fact, they may not even know themselves. They may just think that they’re weird. Or a little crazy. Or a lot crazy.

There are certain questions that they will have trouble answering. Questions that most people think are simple. Questions like: What do you want to be when you grow up? What is your favorite book? What color do you want to paint your living room? How are you?

There are certain questions that they’ll want you to ask them. Questions that most people want to avoid. Questions like: What makes life worth living? What are you reading now and how are you influenced by this particular writer? How many languages would you like to learn and why? When are you going to change career paths next and what looks good to you these days? How does the octopus express consciousness?

If you ask them if they’re gifted, they’ll probably say no. They know how much they don’t know. They know people smarter than they are. They haven’t invented anything insanely great.

They may look ungifted because they haven’t become CEO of that corporation and they haven’t cured cancer. They may look ungifted because they cry easily and still believe that they can change the world. They may look ungifted because they can’t decide what to eat. They may look ungifted because they’re easily overwhelmed by certain sounds, smells, textures, colors, chemicals, and angry humans. They may look ungifted because they dropped out of school. They may look ungifted because they forget your birthday, can’t find their keys, and don’t finish their 13 on-going projects that are spread all over the house.

So, it’ll be hard to know if you’re with a gifted adult.

But, if all else fails. Look for the person with MORE.

Look for more depth.

Look for more sensitivity.

Look for more complexity.

More anxiety, more questioning, more researching, more existential depression, more ideas, more reading, more thinking, more compassion, more loneliness, more talking, more perfectionism, more idealism, more imagining, more laughing, more angst, more empathy, more creativity, more answers, more crying.

More more-ness.

And then you’ll know. You’re with a gifted adult.

Who just might be you.

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To my sweetest bloggEEs: Let us know how this fits for you. Do you still deny your giftedness? We’d love to hear from you. You know that your comments add so much! This post is part of a blog hop on gifted adults, so if you click on the image below, you’ll access more articles on the topic, written by some wonderful humans!

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