sitting birds, flowers i made: sewn felt
“Know thyself.” –Socrates
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Along with this recent Eureka (you! rica!) moment of hm…self discovery comes a feeling of cautiousness, that I am just labeling/filing myself away; nevertheless, let me share today’s interwebs find. I came across bulleted descriptions of what could pretty much be a checklist (more details in the links below) for someone assigned to draft my obituary. To tell you the truth, it gave a feeling akin to relief: instead of my epitaph reading “Here lies a weirdo, man was she weird”, it can now be (tentatively) rewritten as: “Here lies an HSP, along with many before her, enjoying her bit of peace and quiet”.
What follows is an excerpt from the first article that caught my eye: “Why are Creative People so Complicated?”:
If you’re an HSP (Highly Senstive Person):
You’re more aware than others of subtleties. Your brain processes information & reflects on it more deeply. You notice more things than others do.
You’re more easily overwhelmed, and get naturally overstimulated when things are too intense, chaotic or new.
You’re easily affected by other people’s moods
During busy days, you may need to withdraw into a darkened room or quiet place to get some privacy and relief from over-stimulation
You get overwhelmed by bright lights, strong odors , loud noises, crowds and any other strong sensory input
You’re deeply creative and moved by arts and music
Complete self-test can be found here: Sensitivity to light? Check. Coarse fabric? Easily startled? (Is the person who made this list spying on me?) Check. Total: 23 points!
Article links on Highly Sensitive Persons (HSP) & website. The second article, authored by Susan Biali. M.D., really struck a chord with me. She identifies herself as an HSP: “After the Show: “The Many Faces of the Performer” || “Was Michael Jackson a Highly Sensitive Person(HSP)? Are You?” || HSP site: www.hsperson.com
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“Know thyself” – a maxim as pernicious as it is odious. A person observing himself would arrest his own development. Any caterpillar who tried to “know himself” would never become a butterfly. –André Gide
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