So here we are, it is the first of April  on a day started with sunshine, but is moving into overcast skies.

The same could be said of my life and my mood at this point in time.

My mother is ill, not seriously, but enough to drag us both down a bit, and to leave me with too much unfinshed work.I would  have liked to get her out in the sun today, but I don’t think it will be possible.I have been thinking a lot about people like me, who for most of their lives have been caring for someone in one way or another.

I started with animals ( horses)  and finished with humans and looked after many children and families  in between.

But what has been playing through my mind lately,  is human interaction in this cyber world we live in, and the ability to shapeshift your way through each others lives..the consequences of this , good and bad.. and my fascination with the idea of shapeshifting, journeying, exploring other realms and dimensions and how this plays into the story I am attempting to write.

I suppose one thing my working with people so closely, and in a role that  was in many ways, servile, it has left me with is an acute antenna when it comes to sensing those who  take others for granted, along with those who make the immediate assumptions that someone is open hearted and giving,  it is there for the taking.Usually without thanks.

I spent most of my adult life in a role, that in the past ,would have been described as the role of a “caring” servant. I learned that  the best way to survive in this space was to bite the bullet, hard. In recent years, I have found it amazing how people , who will describe themselves as a “caring person” . Yet have no conscience at all when it comes to caring for the world we live in, or have any awareness of how they treat others, no self questioning that asks the basiscs as to how their actions will reverberate through the web of life.

..Then there are those who openly describe themselves as  a sensitive, so much so that they are able to translate everything as pertaining to them..now this is one I come across time and again, the sensitive who has no objectivity at all as to other peoples sensitivities ..

I used to assume that when  someone said they were senstive that meant they were also empathetic.

Wrong.

How naive I used to be! That is like assuming that everyone has imagination, I think we are born with it but very few of us these days seems to use it. we are all far too keen on being one of the sheeple, herd mentality pulls to the fore far to often.

I learned that many years ago,  in order to empathise, one has to have imagination and the ability to quite literally walk in anothers skin..as Atticus tells Scout in To Kill a Mocking Bird.

I am amazed at how someone will describe themselves as sensitive, and yet have the ability to ride rough shod all over another person,  with no regard whatsoever for their feelings, invasive within their psychic space. It seems that even basic manners and respect for someones space and gift of time are a thing of the past.

Not only that, but I have come across those who claim this so called gift , but then barge into someone else’s life trying to *help*  but in realty invading their space and overwhelming them, usually during a vulnerable time in that persons life..

The number of times I have witnessed this and also been on the receiving end..

Well maybe here is the juice of a character, for in order to have a good plot in any story you have to have conflict.  So creating fictional conflict, pulls my thoughts towards what I have experienced in my life, my past and the people I have met along with  the dynamics between them .

It is hard for me, with no love whatsoever of other peoples dramas,(give me Shakespeare any day ) to create one.  It may  only a sub plot, but one of many I have looked at, as I watch and observe a story unfold on the page. I suppose that is one of the essentials of writing, if one is taking it seriously of course, the essential being  observance of self an others. It is top of the list, along with reading, reading and more reading.  Then of course the daily writing itself, keeping the hand moving across the page..seeing the images play out in your head, answering the demands of a character as she strides forward, putting her hands into the pockets of a long,  steel grey coat.

She is someone I do not like but at the same time I do, as she will have flaws as we all do. She has a story burning in her heart that needs to be told.

So what is being a sensitive? To my humble way of thinking it is one and the same as empathy, the two are interlinked  and if we had more of both traits, the world would be a nicer place, the world of humans that is .. So off I go walking into another skin, one that does not fit me and feels slightly itchy with arrogance, but she needs her eyes to be seen through, she needs me to emapthise.

Thank you for reading.

peace and blessings.