Wild Empath Chronicles Shielding

Wild Empath Chronicles Shielding.

In my youth during a self destruct phase, I met a kind lady in school. She invited me t her home for dinner as she lived just a short way from where I did. I was (and still am) a cowgirl, buckle and all. I drove my truck to her house and saw a line of chopped Harleys in her front yard. I had no idea she was a biker, you would never know to look at her.

She was so sweet, a little shy. I pulled in the drive, got out, headed to the door. As I walked by the motorcycles I had a change of heart, and turned to run back to my truck. She ran out and grabbed my arm. She was laughing, dragging me in the house. There was a bit of good natured teasing, but all in all these were truly wonderful people.

I will say they looked pretty dang frightening, long hair, beards, tattoos, big, bold and a little growly. Oh my gosh could these dudes party. There was great sharing of food and drink, they got loud and bit reckless, but never unkind towards each other. There were children there as well. They were watched over by all, disciplined but loved by the whole group.

I was between lives at that time and joined these folks. I went on rides, to parties, and after a bit of a downturn in my finances I rented a room and lived the life.

There is a code with these folks, an honor that was quite noble in many ways. They tended their own. Fiercely. If code was ever broken, it was dealt with internally. The rules were pretty simple, you don’t take from your own, you honor relationships, and you back your brother. They had little problem breaking the law of the outside world, but the honor among themselves was thick.

There was a horrible wreck, the man lived, his wife died. They had a son. The group tended to them all, she was honored by them all for weeks. The love they had for each other was intense. For all the harshness these were hard but very loving people.

I was through this hardness I learned to shield. As I got to know these people I found that they were no different than anyone else. But the persona they oozed terrified folks. So I watched and learned.

There was an aura of hardness, a daring of anyone to mess with them. It wasn’t just the looks. The women had this too. It was almost animal like. They were aware of everything around them, they didn’t hide from anything. You looked them in the eye, they returned the stare. They were courteous and polite. Not bulling at all. They stood up straight, confident, and assured. But the dare was there, the feeling like they were ready for anything. It was a feeling, a knowing. Dang I can’t quite get this to words.

I don’t know the terms empaths use, I never learned them. But it’s a way of pulling from inside yourself a knowing of your strong self. No insecurities show, no fear, just your strength what ever it may be.

I am perhaps the most non threatening person you will ever meet. I am long boned, weak looking. Easy to talk to and approach, unless I shield with this. I don’t know what people see, as I am not unkind, and I am polite, but still unapproachable. My strengths are few, but its all I need to use this type of shield.

I use it very seldom, but if in a large group or an area where I am uncomfortable, it comes in very handy. There are days I can’t take on more than what I am dealing with at the time. This will stop added stress.

Usually people I don’t know will walk up to me and start conversations, tell me their troubles, unload. Usually I am good with it, I feel I am helping, but when I am weak or overloaded I just can’t handle it. I will block with this shield until I am strong again.

This probably makes little sense, but I am new to the terms and using light and all that stuff. This is how I learned. It is strong, and effective.

This was written in the beginning of my journey. And I still use it today :)

Wild Empath Chronicles Calling

Wild Empath Chronicles. Calling

I walk downtown in the afternoon while my son takes his guitar lesson. It’s the old part of town, the homes varied in size and age, but the trees are older, maple and the like, and this time of year they are losing those beautiful colored leaves. My trek starts up hill, past restaurants, and shops, till it get to the residential area. I go past apartments, duplexes all the time traveling further from the noise of tow. Finally as I crest the hill, the quiet ensues and the evenness of my breath and footsteps is all I hear. People are still at work, school is over and except for the occasional car I feel pretty much alone. The homes have rock walls to hold up the built up soil, that holds the foundation. The walls are shoulder high to me, and green moss grows in the cement that holds the large rocks together. The side walk is old concrete, and has buckled and heaved where the large old tree roots how grown underneath it.

The trees are shedding those lovely gold, red leaves, and they litter the ground. This time of year it’s a full time job keeping them raked up and they scatter or crunch under my feet. I love looking at that maintained lawns and gardens of flowers in front of these homes. Most homes are modest, but the gardens are usually very vibrant and welcoming. I can see the in ground sprinklers, and see the lawns are freshly mowed. The care that goes into keeping landscape looking like that is not a simple task, watering, fertilizing, weeding; so much work but the finished product is truly breathtaking.

As I wonder down the road, crunching leaves in my path I see cracks in the sidewalk, and where the rock wall meets the ground. In these cracks there are tiny plants that struggle to survive. They are of the same varieties that are well tended in the front yards of these homes. But they are not cared for, fight the elements, take what nourishment and water they can, but they live. They are not as lush, or vibrant as the cared for plants, yet they found a way to find light, nutrients and water; they are wild. I wonder if they are stronger, as they are just as beautiful. At this point I see two kinds of beauty; the gentle cared for beauty in the gardens, and the strong beauty of the wild plants.

I keep wondering and start thinking of how they found their place. The strong survive against the odds. Should the sprinklers not come on, or the fertilizer not be spread the wild plants will continue, while the gentle plants will parish. Should nature take over, the side walk would eventually buckle and turn to chunks of concrete and finally dust through the power of the tree roots and the plants taking over the cracks.

Is it that different with people? Should all the gentle necessities end, the gentle people would not be able to survive. But the strong who have had a harder life, that know pain, know what it takes to get by on their own, those that have been called odd, or strange because they are sensitive, or knowing, these are the people that could carry on. They pay the price now, not tended to flourish, but forgotten, used, or harmed to make way for another with a personal agenda, they are the ones that know what it takes to survive. They have been tested and not found wanting. They know pain, you could say they expect it, and know they will survive it and come out of it a better person.

Some of these are the “special” people. Empaths that call themselves indigo or crystal children and sing praise of the coming of the end, knowing they are the ones to carry on, and bring the human race together. Sadly no, this is not the task at hand, because to know these people is to know their fate. They are the ones that are called on the help the rest. To help those that can’t help themselves. They paid the price and received the strength so they would be strong enough to help others. That is why they are healers, seers and warriors. That is why they can feel the pain or happiness of others, so they can help them through their journey. That is why they are called. It is an honor to help another, to have the tools to do so. They are not aliens, or from an ancient race, they are people that remember how to care about others, and have the ability to do so. They are not advanced or better, just people with the gift and the need to help another.

But you see the world will not end, there will be no great coming. It is happening right now. Every time you hug a friend, heal a pain, protect the weak or grant a knowing you are doing as you are called to do. If more people did this now, there would be no need for a great shift in balance, fewer would be hurt, and the human race can still thrive. Not as dramatic or amazing as some would have you think, just people being people. Those that slipped through the cracks to become the best person they can be solely to help others. What an amazing calling.

Wild Empath Chronicles Random thoughts on my ride

• Posted by Tammie on October 25, 2009 at 10:11pm
• View Blog

Wild Empath Chronicles Random thoughts on my ride


Just got off the Ning boards, talking to my friends, people I have never met in person. We visit for hours, our likes, our dislikes, helping, understanding and growing together. I think of these people often, the trials and accomplishments we share. We are all so different, but as I learn more about each person I see great strength in every single one. Some it’s very obvious, they are bold, bright and self assured. Willing to help anyone out if they can, the gentle hand up when needed. You read this description and think they are the teachers. You think wrong. Every person on here is student and teacher. Every person has things they don’t know and every person here has something they can share. Those that may at first appear weak, confused, or troubled; you may not see the incredible strength they hold. They feel everything at such a great spectrum yet here they are seeking help, knowing, wanting to over come these trials to feel one with the world. That great first step has been taken, the walk out of the void and into the masses. Masses of others just like them, to see that there is a whole community of people that understand. The bliss, the freedom that it holds is amazing.

I think these thoughts as I go get my gelding. It’s a beautiful day and I need my outside time. I saddle up and head for the trails. He is ready and willing. We trot through the morning sun, gentle cool breeze blowing through the trees. We are heading into the woods, at a gentle climb. My mine wanders to a conversation I had with a friend. There was discussion on the Chronicles and how they were mostly on a sad negative note. Not my way usually, and I was a bit ashamed I only shared the ugly in my life.

I thought about it, and for some of the magical moments in my life I don’t possess the proper vocabulary to properly describe my feelings. Perhaps the words don’t exist. The good things that happen I don’t over analyze, I accept them for the beautiful wonderful things they are, and carry them with me always. The negative things require more logical thought for some reason, they must be understood, learned from and filed away to make sure they don’t happen again. That must be why the human brain thinks it remembers the bad better than the good. The good is stored in the heart, feelings, part of the spirit to be called on when needed to boost a bad day, or lighten a load.

I follow the trail and see a wild turkey in the brush, a big beautiful bird, just wandering around. I idly wondered if he was lost, for some reason it puts a smile on my face. We follow the trail to the creek. A true babbling brook, small enough to jump across with enough stones for the water to trickle by it makes that wonderful gentle running water sound. I head down to it, dismount and tie my gelding to a tree. I walk down to the creek and sit in the dirt. The scene is like a post card, dappled sunlight through the trees, the sides of the bank overgrown with vines and bushes, the breeze still gentle through my hair, as I sit, listening to the sounds of the water, smelling the life of the forest, and seeing the movement of the water. I feel the life all around me, gentle and comforting. My mind wanders again

I think of a friend I haven’t heard from in a while, and hope they are okay. I know the worry is needless, but I do so anyway. I smile, its how some folks show they care. I realized there are many I worry about, and many that have my heart. In a way it is liberating to know you can open up so fully if you choose. To love and share as you see fit. I needs not be returned, and if it is that is the greatest gift of all. There is nothing more precious to me than love given freely. So often there is attempt to force such a thing. But to do so, destroys the gift, and makes it a burden.

I close my eyes and breathe deep, taking in the gentle cool essence of the creek, listening to the water washing over the smooth round stones. She speaks to me. It’s the Mother, our planet. Its not often I give her my mind, but today its Hers. I worry about Her too. She is not frail, She is not weak, She is complete in her self. We think we harm her, She laughs. We build structures to please the ego, She shivers a bit and they are knocked to the ground. We foul her waters; She hiccups and cleanses the ocean in one small effort. She is all, and feels all. We need Her, we are all connected. I worry about the devastation we cause, to Her its just one more thing. When She has had enough She will reclaim her land and seas. It is not for Her she worries, but for us. She will do what is necessary to maintain Herself, it will be the people and animals that suffer. She will feel that pain, but will do what must be done. She is mother, God the Father. Both smile gently at the foolishness of the human race, both knowing the sadness that will be Theirs as they cleanse this world and make it worthy for yet another round of human habitation.

Many holy books speak of this cleansing. People fight over which thought is right, what to call God, how to honor Him or Her. They argue which people are better, kinder, nobler, who is best. What path is the one all should take? No one has the right to choose another’s path. It is a private thing, not to be argued, or shamed. Yet people die for their beliefs every day. I wonder if I would ever be that strong as to face death for my knowing of my heart, to stand tall, with honor and pride at my conviction. I pray I am never tested, and I pray that if I am I will be worthy.

My gelding is agitated; the turkey I saw earlier reminds me that where there is prey there are predators. It is the way of nature, brutal and beautiful in its simplicity. I get up from my peaceful resting spot, take one last look at the beautiful scene and get back on my horse and head down the trail.

My mind is very restless as I leave the shady woods to walk along side a man made canal. The water flowing does not smell as sweet, or sound as gentle. There is no life here, just water in concrete forced to go this way or that. Necessary for our lives, but not the gentle natural flow of the little creek I just enjoyed a few minutes ago.

My gelding has had enough of this gentle thinking and meandering through the woods. He wants to play, and as we near a running spot, I feel his energy charge through him. He is a strong and powerful force all his own. I feel the muscles tense, and the joy he is waiting for. I let him fly. His mind is of a wild nature, to run free across the plains just for the joy of the power, speed and movement. To run with the herd, but that isn’t his life now, he is not free. Not free to fear predators, not free to starve or die of thirst. But every now and then I give him as much freedom as I can, and he is willing to share that joy with me. It is an honor, one I can not describe in words.

As I near home, I feel a presence, my friend I was worried for, and a quiet voice in my mind, I am fine, please don’t worry. And now I won’t.