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.