As a 13 year old boy, I wrote a poem with these lines:

That Cranes know of a direction
is the imperfection of a dream

This was something that really was important to me. This direction thing was frustrating me. In some ways I felt I had no true freedom.

Only years later would I recognize what this was, and I was surprised at the wisdom I had at that time.

What it meant was that my thoughts were faster than my feelings.

This is not literally true, of course, bit what I did is interpret my feelings with the speed of a lightning bolt. 

This meant that it was my thoughts that dictated how I felt.

And that is a shame, because it is like doing a Van Gogh in ministeck.

This is the handicap of us fast thinkers.

It is why our hiding mechanisms are so well in place.

This is where our OFF switches are made of.

I you are highly sensitive, you feel more than others. Our social warning system is working harder. And mistakes there, cause actual pain.

This is why we switch of our senses, and hide the fact that we do that.

And hey, even in a minnisteck Van Gogh we can see sunflowers and a starry night. And we get so used to these images that we forget what the real thing looks like.

I did that.

Till last year.

I opened the valves.

Beauty poured in.

And so did pain.

But you know what? I wouldn’t have it any other way.

My reflexes are still letting me dodge pain, and thereby beauty.

But I’m learning to control these reflexes. It’s a bit like stop drinking, or smoking I guess.

The world is more beautiful and painful.

But you know what? The pain is better. It’s a sharp pain, not the foggy, misty pain that is all around, and blocking your views.  It’s like a sharp cold wind on a beautiful, clear winters day.

My Cranes fly, without knowing where they will end up, and I love it.

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