When I get into a taxi, my handler Chikako is always most careful. “Which seat do you want next to me in the back? Is it okay to sit by the door?”
Her request seemed bizarre the first few taxi rides.
Her request seemed bizarre because you have never been anywhere cleaner than a Tokyo taxi. Not a crumb of stale food. No trash. White doilies all over that back seat. The cab driver is usually wearing white gloves, for crying out loud. The only place lovelier than behind the driver’s seat would be that pristine place by the opposite window, a fabulous place to be a back seat driver if only one knew the roads.
Chikako-san’s request seemed bizarre until I asked what on earth she meant. Then Chikako has explained it to me. When she transports teachers for VOICE, the seminar company sponsoring me here, many of the professional psychics can’t bear to sit across from the driver. Unless they’re positioned directly in back, they’ll pick up too many low-level vibrations floating around in the taxi.
This reminds me of a rather shocking statement in a book by one of America’s most famous psychics. In passing, “Phoebe” mentions that she never drives on highways any more because she is just too aware of angels and spirits to be able to concentrate on the road.
Well, I’m glad hasn’t crashed up her car. Maybe she ought to consider hiring an immaculate Japanese taxi?
Seriously, picking up impressions IS a problem for many people. They’re oh-so-impressionable. Although inconvenient, this trouble with everyday living is interpreted by them as a thrilling proof of how talented and special they are.
Given my work with Empath Empowerment, I have a different reaction, however. To me, having trouble with stray taxi vibes isn’t proof of talent so much as evidence of imbalance. A person can be plenty special without being so deeply into spirit life that she can’t drive between the lines on a highway (or color between the lines in a coloring book, if she wanted to do that instead).
NEUROTIC DISTORTION OF THE CREATIVE PROCESS
This is the title of a book I remember from college. Okay, I may be remembering the title incorrectly, but I sure do remember the message of the book. A psychologist took up the myth of the suffering artist. What he/she concluded had a powerful effect on shaping my career.
You don’t need to live like Ernest Hemingway or Dylan Thomas. Being a creative artist does not require that you get yourself drunk, or surly, or otherwise miserable. Being creative simply means being creative.
Once I knew a man, Paul, who spent a night in jail along with Dylan Tomas. They had been arrested for drunk and disorderly conduct. For Paul, this was a highlight of his life. Maybe it beat being locked up with a smelly wino from the neighborhood streets, but where’s the true triumph?
In my latest workshop for empaths, “Lucy” told this story:
Before I knew that I was an empath, I had so much trouble being with people at all. I’d take on their feelings, their aches and pains. Now that I have begun to become a skilled empath, this has stopped. Welcome to life without constantly throwing up.
If you know people who suffer in taxis or supermarkets or schools, people who are so sensitive to the psychic, emotional, or physical environment that they can hardly function, buy them a copy of Empowered by Empathy. Or send them to me for a personal session, because I would love to make a difference.
If you’re talented, be talented. Not overwhelmed.