I wish I had someone to talk to about all this.
I don’t mean that I don’t. I have five or maybe six people who understand all this. Who really get it, and, in two other cases, who are even like me. But you have to admit, that’s an incredibly small number. And once we’ve discussed things, well, there’s only so much more discussion that can take place before it eventually just turns into nods of agreement. Or, the other side of the coin is that I start to realize that they’re not as like me as I thought they were, and there’s no point in digging into details if they don’t understand what it is I do, and what I’m fully about.
I guess what I wish for is more people like me to compare notes with. I know they’re out there, but I guess they’re as secretive as we are. The hidden shamans, priests and priestesses, the people who let themselves be taken over by Spirit, the kind souls who trust us enough to let us speak through them. I know they’re out there. I just wish I knew how to find them… how to contact them and learn what they know, and that they would listen to what I know, and together we could find new ways to do all this and help the world.
I’ve been told over and over again that I’m unique. I know I don’t fit into any neat box. I suppose that’s some kind of blessing, to defy labels, but some days it feels more like a curse. It’s difficult to find others like yourself when you don’t have a definitive name for what you are. Language is limitation, but it’s all we have to try and find common ground. And when there’s no words, there’s little chance of common ground and making that connection.
I’m realizing that I keep my blog here, in part, so that others who are like me might stumble on it… or be led to it, which is probably more accurate. I’d thought that by now I would have found many others. The time is here, the bell’s been rung, but… what I’m seeing the most of is not what I was expecting. Something a little bit like what I have with my avatar, but not quite. A lot of the ones I’ve found are whispers in a head, without independent lives of their own, stuck inside a mental city, without the ability to get out and affect the material world at all other than when they push all the others aside and say a few words. I don’t understand a life like that. They feel like echoes or mist. And they’re not like me, so there’s no point in interacting with them. So I move on.
The search continues for others like me.