For english talking people! Unfortunately not the whole book is translated, but to have a short look
it should be enough stuff!
Jutta Nebel,
www.Das-Wasser-des-Lebens.eu
Wenn du zu viel fühlst. Wie Hochsensible den Alltag meistern
When you are too
sensitive. How highly sensitive people manage everyday life.
Schirner Verlag, ISBN 978-3-89767-382-3
Übersetzung aktualisiert und verbessert von Tamara Kuhn, Schirner Verlag
Preface…….................................................................................................7 Trust............................................................................................................15
Emily Is Too Shy…....................................................................................19
The Wind.................................................................................................... 23
Scarab……..................................................................................................27
Findings.......................................................................................................31
It Did Not Work..........................................................................................39
Being Needed..............................................................................................50
Water Meditation........................................................................................54
Magic Wand................................................................................................58
Finding Back to Life...................................................................................64
Nils, Or the Inner Leader............................................................................73
Out of Time and Space................................................................................79
Trust.............................................................................................................86
The Beauty of Every Day’s Work................................................................92
You Bear Your Healing Inside You…..........................................................98
Where Does this Sensitivity Come from,
What Lies Behind?.......................................................................................107
“Refitting”....................................................................................................109
Stress and Hormones.....................................................................................112
General Advice….........................................................................................118
Nutrition........................................................................................................119
Stress in Everyday Life.................................................................................120
Development of Special Gifts.......................................................................123
Working Life for HSP………………...........................................................125
Celebrations and HSP………………….......................................................127
Dealing with Emotions..................................................................................133
Meditating and Encountering the Inner Child...............................................135
Introduction to Part Two................................................................................137
1. Chakra Stones.............................................................................................142
2. Home Improvement Markets and Department Stores................................145
3. Plants and Animals.....................................................................................154
4. Necklaces with Precious Stones..................................................................157
5. Power-Bracelets..........................................................................................160
6. Moqui Marbles............................................................................................162
7. Implements Made of Precious Stones.........................................................164
Springtime (or a Journey to Neptune)............................................................. 166
Merchants and Markets for Precious Stones....................................................168
Seeing and Feeling Energies............................................................................171
Meditation and Inner Journey
to Experience your Newfound Crystal or Stone..............................................177
Epilog...............................................................................................................179
Book List.........................................................................................................180
Preface
Originally, this book was intended to be a kind of storybook, a collection of stories about life and surviving. I must confess that most of the heroines in all these tales have something in common. Me!
Although they have different names, most of them are driven by the same intention: getting along with life.
I had written down all these stories somehow and somewhere, on notepads and in diaries, on sheets of paper which I found later in some drawers or maybe under the notepad and in other unbelievable places, or which I used as bookmarks. Some of the stories I had saved on my computer.
One day I had the idea to compile them all. And this happened for one reason:
I was suffering from a mental crisis and I was looking for some helpful lecture to give me comfort and to cheer me up. I visited a well-known bookshop in Darmstadt. Here I had always been successful when I was looking for material about shamanism, healing and spirituality. But on this special day I did not find what I was looking for. None of the books they had seemed to fit. Not a single book seemed to deal with my special feelings, my problems, my distress, my pain. So I had to go home and to start looking at my computer where I had saved several texts, mainly from the internet. I found one, which comforted me very much. THIS TEXT gave me what I was looking for, peace, and the chance of letting go. Seeing that this was one of my own stories, I realized that I was the one who had given me a helping hand. For this reason I started bringing all my little stories together. It should become a story-telling-book.
But this little book seemed to be without any real meaning to others, because nobody knew the intention of the writer, which was to show people how to get out of sometimes self-made traps and severe problems in life!
Nobody could know that these were stories of one person always involved with problems which do not seem to be problems to other people.
For a while this did not change, but the stories were brought together and could help me whenever I was in need of them. But one really important aspect seemed to be missing. It was the meaning.
As time went by, the amount of stories could have doubled and tripled. Life moved on, it did not become easier and it had to be mastered.
I kept asking myself why I had never ever found stories like mine. And I have been a real bookworm from childhood on. Every publication I could get about spirituality, healing, psychology, shamanism, healing with stones and crystals enlarged my private library. And also my knowledge. I felt most familiar with shamanism.
But nobody could tell me why I always felt so irritated, nervous, tired, exhausted and could bear so little. Others were doing the same things I was doing, even three times as much, and then they feel really satisfied and meet others to go to the cinema!
Why was it so difficult for me to celebrate, to let go, to enjoy life like others do? Was I wrong, was I even depressive, was I suffering from some psychological illness?
I
started studying homoeopathy, became more and more acquainted with
this subject matter and looked for a therapist working in this field.
Sometimes I got the impression of being able to feel “normally”,
of having energy, power, and strength. I made real improvements, but
I also had relapses. Once, when I was almost dying of overexcitement,
I looked up two words on the internet: highly sensitive.
One
of the first pages which appeared was: www.hochsensible.de
There I could read, although I had actually been looking for a homoeopathic medicine, for the first time about people like me who have the same problems I have had for my entire life. These pages described “highly sensitive personalities” as HSP. They gave information about people who are, like me, very often overloaded with what is happening around them. These irritations slip unfiltered into our nervous system, which causes sometimes unbearable neural excitement.
This is what the website says:
Highly sensitive personalities are persons who are very...(.synonym for highly sensitive?).... They have, because of a physiological disposition of the nervous system, an increased impressionability for irritation. This goes for outer irritations like noises and smells and pictures just as for inner ones like memories, imaginations, thoughts...
This higher capacity for irritation makes highly sensitive people get more information than “normally” sensitive people do. They can realize things like subtle changes in their environment more strongly than other people do, and so they can give valuable information to others. In the texts on the website you can find information on the advantages which result from the increased receptiveness for these irritations...
I know these advantages very well! I have described them in several of my stories. It is a wholeness of understanding situations, the ability to build, without forcing it, connections in a spontaneous way and, in consequence, to recognize the things behind.
It also means, through listening to music, looking at a picture, or watching a movie, to get into a very intense state of feelings. I myself sometimes get flashes of goose bumps when listening to music with a special emotional background attached. I can play on a piano of emotions when I listen to such special music.
Sometimes I do this when I feel stuck in my emotions. Looking at a series of pictures I can experience mood changes. Although what is in the picture is really unimportant, this can be caused just by the composition of colours. Smells of freshly mixed roughcast opens a door to my childhood, because a lot of very positive experiences are connected to this!
The opposite is the case with the smell of petrol. I get instantly travel-sick when I am sitting in a car which smells of petrol. That opens a door to my childhood too. This may happen also to normally sensitive people, but HSP get more impressions by all sorts of situations. And these impressions form a multidimensional overwhelming picture which helps to realize more, to understand more, to connect to more, and to recognize more that is behind a situation!
Quote: In
our modern culture high sensitivity may have unpleasant effects on
the lives of highly sensitive people, especially when it comes to
over-irritation. What may not be disturbing to others, like loud
music, or strong smells, can be strongly stimulating to HSP and very
stressing! Most people can just ignore loud sirens, glaring lights
and strong smells (perfume, smoke) while HSP feel strongly disturbed
and become overexcited. In such a status one becomes overwhelmed by
the flood of information that has to be dealt with. Because
of the higher irritation HSP get tired and exhausted more easily, and
so it is very important to find opportunities to regenerate
oneself... These
aspects are also very well-known to me. I recognized myself in this
text and started to see a bit of hope. So I am not so strange? Am not
extraordinary, not wrong? There are more people like me? But
why? And
before my typical circle of thoughts could start in my mind, I found
the a page about Highly Sensitive Persons and a book.
There
I could finally dive deeper into the matter, ordered the book and
read it in two days, in two very revealing days, where laughing and
crying were very close together, where I was wondering if the author
had known me from birth on. I recognized myself in this book so much
that it sometimes really hurt. And
from this point on my story telling book started to make sense. These
are all stories of a highly sensitive person. I wish people to find
themselves in these stories like I did in this book I read. People
who are desperate, like I had been all the time, on the way to find
themselves... To
know that one is not sick but just different, and especially that one
is not alone in this condition and with this gift, is a really big
relief! I am
going to start with a story which goes way back into my childhood
times. I invite you to read and feel. If you experience some
resonance while reading it, maybe you do not need the explanations
anymore. Was
dahintersteckt...What is behind it She
never was a wild child, never. She rather seemed more adapted, but
very sad and she was often weeping. Her mother always told her: Why
don’t you smile a bit, what shall people think of us? She
loved Mohrle, her black cat, which had nibbled at her birthday cake
at her seventh birthday, because she was used to get the hard pieces
of the cake every Sunday. This time Mohrle took the pieces herself,
more daring, and thus very different from Elli.
Elli
could never clearly express what she wished or didn’t wish, because
she didn’t know it exactly. She was always hoping that others would
tell her! Elli
got sick when her uncle Günter, who she loved because of his
curls and because he wished her to comb them, when this uncle arrived
with his VW-Beetle, which was reeking of petrol, to take the whole
family for an excursion. She got travel-sick in this car every time. It
didn’t help to say – but she wasn’t really sure if she had said
it or if they had listened to her, however, it didn’t help to say
that she didn’t want to go with them. She was too young to have any
idea or any chance to make a decision. Elli
had never been able to let go, she always had to keep control.
Control of herself, control of circumstances, control of her wishes,
feelings and reactions. She always had to function. If that was not
possible and she tried to express her feelings and impressions, she
just heard: That’s
just your imagination... Put
yourself together... Don’t
let yourself go... So
she always made the experience not to trust her own perception and
feelings. Elli
only felt confident on safe solid ground. If someone lifted her for a
surprise, she was yelling with fear! She
tried to swing, like other children did, but she got sick instantly,
same situation like in the car. She
tried to enjoy sitting on a carousel – with the same result. She
always tried to become a little lighter through all this, but it
didn’t work. The only possibility was riding. There she felt
secure, felt carried, felt sheltered. And when she fell down, she
would mount the horse again. From
this time onwards, she refused to join the family for excursions. She
preferred to visit the horses. Elli
grew up, had her highs and lows in life. But there was one problem
which she never lost, the fear to lose the solid ground under her
feet. She still didn’t find the one important thing in life –trust! Until
that day. She was 44 years old, out of work, discouraged, and, like
so often before, on a walk through her beloved nature, alone, just
accompanied by the wind and a buzzard, which sailed right above her
head, and the sun, stroking her cheeks. An
old lost garden, very familiar to her, offered her gifts like pears,
apples, blackberries and – a swing! Today the swing was whispering
to her: Come on, rest on me, swing with me! And
she dared! First very carefully, slowly, then stronger, with flying
hair, with her feet right into the blue sky, all the time checking
her feelings...laughing out loud, wild like a child! For
44 years, her whole life long she had been waiting for just this
moment, almost giving up hope that this moment would come. From
its point of view the story is seen and written down. My inner child
that is longing to remain a child, and to act like a child even at
the age of 44 or more. Highly sensitive children sense! They
have lots and lots of antenna with them. They sense the feelings of
all the people around them, especially those belonging to the family.
They can feel what is between the parents. Problems of all kinds!
There is no chance to hide them from these special children! The
worst these parents can do to their children is to lie, to say:
you’re just imagining this. Because the child feels with all its
senses what the matter is. And when the parents refuse to tell the
truth the child becomes insecure, starts to think of being wrong, its
feelings being wrong, its perceptions being wrong. It
unfortunately learns not to trust its own impressions, its feelings,
and its own needs. When Mom or Dad or the teacher say something, they
must be right and I must be wrong will be its conclusion. How
shall such children ever trust themselves in the future? Such a child
becomes puzzled. It cannot deal with the flood of information, which
will overwhelm it and which seems to be so wrong (in the others’
eyes). This is so confusing that the nervous system gets overexcited.
The little person starts to suppress all this incoming information. It
starts to retreat, it lives more than before in its own world and
becomes very lonely. The suppressed feelings turn into a strong
sensitivity and this sensitivity shows up in problems, maybe like
allergic reactions, sickness on ships, in busses and cars, and on
swings! The
kids get from early times onwards diagnoses of disturbed psychic
abilities and disturbed behaviour. These
children naturally realize feeling much better when they are alone in
nature. They are often unable to make decisions. For instance being
asked if they want to take the teddy or the doll with them, they want
others to decide for them. They do feel what they want, but they have
learned and experienced not to trust their own feelings. These
children love animals very much, because they do not value and doubt.
They are just there to be stroked and loved! And they give love
unconditionally. This
story shows that one can learn to let go and trust, even when being
grown up. Especially to trust one’s own feelings and observations.
This is the most important thing, and one has to come to this point
sooner or later!
The
beauty of every day’s work She worked in a
two-man business, together with her beloved .They were together on
tour doing cleaning work. This job was not so bad. Over she developed
an ability to clean the steps in a kind of meditation. My teacher
Michael Barnett gave me the advice “Do it as a meditation”.
Wiping each step from the left to the right,
breathing in, taking a step backwards, breathing out, wiping from the
left...and so on. After
several times she found that she could distinguish the houses from
each other by their smell. There were some places which seemed cold
to her, clammy and repelling. Others, with wooden stairs, smelt warm
and homelike, especially when the sun came in and melted the wax and
oil, with which the steps have been treaded in all the years and
years to tend them. In
art nouveau houses Martina was always fascinated by the tessellated
floors which were mostly in the entrance area. These houses gave
sensory effluvia of old stones, roughcast and the linoleum that
covered the wooden steps. The smell of linoleum aroused scenes of her
childhood. She had learned to make prints with linoleum, after having
cut a picture into this material, and she could still hear and feel
the sharp feather graving lines into it. Especially
in summer, when it was really hot outside, she enjoyed to work in the
cellar, where she felt wrapped into the cool atmosphere. There were
typical smells too, cold, wet or muddy. One could also find corners
which seemed full of fungus; in other corners one could find the
perfume of old apples and potatoes. She enjoyed playing this piano of
senses a lot. In
winter it was always very hard to work with water. Although they had
their warm water with them in the car and used good rubber gloves,
always being wet and cold is not that pleasant. But the work had to
be done and thanks to her habit of working in a meditative way
she was always inspired by new ideas to
personal growth. Both
of them shared a big passion: psychology and astrology. Moving from
staircase to staircase, she asked him questions about astrology
because he knew a lot about it. They started linking planetary
constellations and aspects to stories of people they knew. And so
they were always involved in brilliant discussions and theories. Mostly,
except for hot summer days when she enjoyed the cool air in the
cellars, he did the work there, and was cleaning the yard,
while she did her meditative job, wiping the step from the left to
the right, breathing in, taking a step backwards, breathing out,
wiping from the left...and so on. And
there she had the most fascinating ideas, they came straight into her
head, after wiping the first two or three steps and he, watching her
eyes, noticed that she had new ideas, thoughts, which she would tell
him on their way to the next job. Thus, working times became
enjoyable times and the cold seasons were to endure. The
warm days were really the better ones. They did not have to go
straight from the car into the houses but could take a little time to
have a little chat in the backyard with the housekeeper or play with
a straying cat. They took their meal, which they had brought from
home, enjoying the sun and exchanging their findings. Once,
it was Friday afternoon and they were ready to do the last job for
that week. He placed the car on the backyard, filled the buckets with
water and soap while she was having a little walk around the yard.
She was working here for the first time, but this time she took more
time to have a closer look. It all seemed to be kind of bewitched to
her in a very nice way. One could say it looked sordid. The windows
were hung by that kind of old curtains used by old ladies. They
seemed to be very dusty. There
were flowerpots, in good condition, and little bric-a-brac figures,
also dusty and bleached by the sun and the years. They seemed to be
given by loving children’s hands and taken by loving mothers’ or
grandmothers’ hands, standing here, speaking of a forgotten past. In
the next window there lay a fat black and white spotted cat, pressing
its head against the fly screen in front of the open window, purring
because pleased about the attention.
Behind
this building used furniture was standing around, and a car without
its licence plate. The wild flowers and the weed were growing round
these objects and gave them a romantic touch. In the midst of a big
town! Martina moved back into the direction where she had come from
to finish her work for the day. But suddenly her eyes were caught by
a corner of the yard where the wind had blown dust and leaves into a
heap. A
pigeon was sitting there, not very unusual in a big city. But this
animal seemed to be very weak. Martina moved slowly and gently into
its direction to have a closer look. It looked like one of this grey
doves one can find everywhere. But one detail was different, it wore
a ring! You belong to someone and this person is waiting for you, she
whispered. The
bird hardly moved. Martina took it up. The little one seemed to be
very indifferent to what was happening with and around it. But it
didn’t seem to be sick, because then the feathers would have been
sticky, but they weren’t. Maybe you are hungry, Martina murmured
and took some bread crumbs from her box. The
bird was not moving, it was not at all interested. The sun was
burning down on both of them. Ooohhh,
you are thirsty, Martina added. She brought a bottle of water from
the car. But where should it drink from? So she had to have an idea!
And she got one! She screwed the cap from the bottle and filled it
with water. That little one didn’t know what to do with it.
Once
Martina had seen how young chicken can be brought to eat. One has to
knock on the floor with one finger to imitate the parents’ picking.
This is what she did then and put her wet finger on the dove’s
beak. Now the bird understood her. It moved its head to the water and
with one draught it emptied the screw-cap. The same thing happened
once more. Suddenly the eyes started to shine. The bird’s and
Martina’s also. The
bird now started to bring its plumage into the right order. Now the
bread crumbs became interesting. Martina
had realized that in the meantime a black fat male cat was straying
around their edge with hungry eyes. Maybe it didn’t want the bread
crumbs so much. That meant the bird had to start flying home. Martina
stayed for a while, offered more water and food and then took the
bird into her hands to say goodbye. It looked to her with clear,
shiny eyes, without showing any fear. She threw it into the air, it
started to fly with flapping wings, turned a round above her and
choose its direction home. Martina’s
beloved had watched both of them for a while, moved away with the
bucket and did his work without saying a word. When he came back to
her, her shiny eyes were telling enough, there was nothing to add.
The
most beautiful part of that work was the homelike feelings which
developed working in these houses and backyards, where my inner child
could be there. So I was able to endure the at times hard conditions. And
the best thing was learning to enjoy the work, thanks to the wise
advice of my beloved teacher Michael Barnett: Do it as a
meditation! Thus
I was able to block the outer irritations from penetrating me, and
inside I was able to unfold and get genius ideas. Being
mindful and letting go, all in one. The
result of such processes shows every day and every moment in new
ideas, new witnesses, which help me to grow. The
mindfulness shows when I see what others do not realize. The dusty
charm of the backyard full of waste and grown over with weed and wild
flowers reminded me of Sleeping Beauty, sleeping for a hundred years,
and in the dusty windows the bric-a-brac figures seemed to emanate
love. The
pigeon was the voyager in big trouble on its way home, and I have
been the protector which saved it from being eaten. Just for this one
time. This all fills my heart with a warm feeling of love.
In
this story the child emerges, the inner child.