I remember being about 6 or seven years old. I was in a small bedroom that I shared with 2 of my sisters. They weren’t in the room at the time, and I remember that I could hear the wooden floor beneath my feet “breathing.” It wasn’t like humans breathing, it was more like I could feel that it had a living energy.
For some reason, I looked down at my arms, and noticed the fine, blond hair glistening in the sun. I giggled and said, “I’m a human!” (weird, I know). Then I walked to the dormer window, toward the sun, looked down and saw a heaving crack in the cement sidewalk, with grass running through it like a green vein. And, I remember being shocked by the imperfection, “here on earth.” I suddenly felt completely unprepared to be a human being.
I ran downstairs and told my mother. Without looking up from stove – where she was making fried chicken – she said, “I have no idea how to raise you.” From that moment on my parent’s called me “Mouth,” because they “never knew what would come out of it.” That was followed by a newly assigned mantra, “Think before you speak, Susan. Think before you speak.”
And so began the journey of being an introvert. The only time I talk it’s “for the benefit” of other people. I never talk about the way I see the world. I tried it once for a few months – when I thought I was with open-minded people. Let’s just say… that didn’t go well.
But… I get enough confirmation, from the Universe, that what I perceive is valid. I’m not “crazy,” I’m intuitive. I know things long before other people do. And I understand that what we experience as human beings is far smaller than what’s really happening behind the cosmic curtain.