I have been given an incredible gift in life — the ability to understand people, and hence see lies most of the time. If you asked me if this ability made my life easier, I would have to tell you there is no debate about it. The answer is yes: hands-down. Having this ability helps me connect and understand people very quickly. It helps me navigate life with a keen sense. It gives me confidence because I feel I can connect with just about anyone, if I choose. I am fearless in the pursuit of my goals because I see no limitations. I trust without worry — knowing that I will likely see the flags of concern before they are detrimental to my life. These are truly gifts that I am blessed with due to my ability.

But with all positives, there are negatives like the good old Chinese philosophy says: With every yin, there is a yang — but thankfully my yang is not evil as believed in the American interpretation. Rather my yang is painful.

What is this negative, you ask?

It’s easiest to describe as “a sixth perceptive sense”. I don’t know if it a sixth sense — but that’s what I’ll call it. This sense, like hearing and seeing, picks up on the emotions of those around me. Just walking past someone in the store, I pick up on their true inner feelings.

All my life, I have always felt like I was a walking sponge — soaking up the emotions of all of those who pass me by. Most of all, I pick up on the sadness in the world. And while I do pick up on happiness, too, I am sad to report — it is not the common emotion among us.

An ordinary outing for me can be painful unless I distract my mind away from it, and if I don’t want to see it, I really have to work on staying distracted or focused. There isn’t an outing that I don’t go on where I don’t pick up on the emotions. It’s a daily occurrence, and at times, it can be overwhelming. If I could turn off this perceptive ability, there are days and weeks that I would do it for relief, but unfortunately, I can’t. It’s the curse of the gift.

One recent example that stands out strong in my mind was an outing to Walmart. It was the day before Christmas, and Walmart was buzzing with activity. You’d think it would have been a happy outing. If so, you’d be mistaken.

I was happy, in a good mood and accompanied by my husband, finishing up the last few remaining tasks before our celebration. As we looked for Christmas tree bulbs to replace our burnt out ones from the storm that drained their life the night before, we passed aisle after aisle.

I happened to pass by the candy aisle as I cut across the store. When I did, I was cut off by someone else and I came face-to-face with an older gentlemen several feet into the aisle, worn by the difficulties of life, looking at the chocolates before him. He had gray, touseled hair. He was dressed in worn clothes, and wore dirt as if it were an accessory to his attire. Perhaps he worked a hard-labor job, though he was certainly old enough to have been retired. Our eyes met for a second, and the desperation I saw in his eyes ripped at my heart. It was gut-wrenching.

In those few seconds as I stood waiting for the person who just cut me off to vacate the premises, I saw before me a man desperate to find something — anything — to prove to that special someone that he did in fact love her — perhaps in spite of his actions. However, he was fruitless in his search. He needed or wanted to prove to her he cared, but he wasn’t able to come up with anything he knew would be acceptable. Panic tore at the core of his being. Christmas was tomorrow. He was at the end of his emotional rope. He so wanted to please her, but didn’t know how, and time was ticking way too fast for him. The pressure was building, and he was feeling the failure of his mission. He was living the consequences of what he knew was at his doorstep if he didn’t come up with the gift, and that was the desperation I saw. I could feel it. It was palpable, all within seconds.

Perhaps he was given an ultimatum. I don’t know. I could just see the sheer desperation of his situation in his eyes, in his body language and demeanor. And it was in that flash-of-a-second that I passed that aisle – that another man entered the aisle from behind me — and both men’s eyes met. For a second I could see the hope of this man as he wishfully thought just maybe this guy will have the answer, but it dashed off of his face as fast as it came.

I felt for this man and his relationship. It was likely in trouble, and he knew it. I knew it.

Fast forward another minute…

I then went passed the toy aisle and as I did, I saw a man glancing at children’s toys, pushing a cart with few toys inside. He was alone. He was simply dressed, perhaps in his 30s. His face expressed sadness, and a sense of being overwhelmed. He was clearly indecisive as his eyes glanced the stack of toys before him. He slowly pushed a cart as he starred at the toys thinking about what was to come, oblivious to anyone around him. He was lost in his own world. He was down, dreading the soon-to-arrive holiday.

I noticed this in the seconds it took to walk past this man. I did not stop to watch him.

Was he recently divorced? Grieving the loss of his spouse? Was this his first Christmas where he had to pull all the magical strings of Christmas for his children, and the thought was overwhelming him?? Or was it budget constraints, or fears the gifts wouldn’t be good enough? I don’t know the answer, but I do know this night for this man was anything but happy and joyous. If you pulled this man aside and talked to him, he’d have a lots of painful things to share with you, of which I would suspect, was a failed marriage. The let-downs of his life… divorce, maybe even death, being a single parent– I can only guess at that — but the pain was real and stabbing. His emotions jabbed at me in a flash.

I continued on.

I finally got my bulbs and headed for the cash register. We had been at Walmart all of five minutes. When I got to the register, a mother and her three children came into the line behind us. The children’s hair was matted, uncombed and looked worn, if that is at all possible. Their clothes were due for a washing. Perhaps this day mom took a day off and just let kids be kids. I can only guess.

Her eldest daughter, who was about 10, was holding the credit card in her fingers, twirling it with delight. That alone was quite intriguing. Most 10-year-olds don’t care much about credit cards, but this girl knew exactly what it meant! She was happy because she was getting new clothes — clothes which I presume were her Christmas gifts. Gifts that she had to pick out, but she wasn’t sad. She was radiantly happy–singing and dancing as she played with what laid before her.

But when you looked deeper, you could clearly see that youth was lost to her world. She was forced to be mature and to grow up. She was already wise to life’s hardships and the dangers that lurk in our world. This 10-year-old knew Santa wasn’t coming to her house tomorrow night. She was leaning over the conveyor belt, playing with the clothes still on the hanger — dreaming of her new fashion-statement when mom yelled at her with some snide remark and snapped the credit card out of her hand. I don’t remember the remark, but it cut through me like glass. It caused me to look closer at the family,and what I saw could paint a thousand pictures.

The mom was a single mom, or had a husband who didn’t help her do anything. Perhaps he was an addict of sorts. He only dragged her world down, if he existed in her universe at all. Mom carried the weight of the world on her shoulders, wondering day-to-day if she was going to be able to feed her kids, pay the bills and make it to work. New clothes didn’t come often. They were rare — for her and the kids — and it became very clear that this was the big Christmas spree.

These were the gifts of Christmas because mom didn’t have the time nor the energy to give more, to wrap presents, to just be happy and enjoy life. Christmas was going to be like every other day at this house because mom needed a day off. She needed a soft place to land, and she didn’t have one. She was worn out, haggard and exhausted from simply existing. Holidays were a luxury she couldn’t indulge.

In quick micro-bursts, as I walked across Walmart, I was hit with a barrage of strong emotions in a matter of seconds to minutes. I picked up on the emotions of strange people who I did not know, but their familiar faces told me stories, their expressions, mood, attire and character further filled in the details of their difficult lives. A fleeting smile often gives way to more painful realities of life. It flashes quickly in front of me, and then I cope with the pain I see, unable to fix it or make it better.

So you see, there isn’t a place I can go to in the world where I don’t encounter the true story behind the individual. It’s there before me, like the rain on a gray day. I see so much more than the average person, and often times the story that is told to me on the faces that look my way is painful, difficult and challenging for the stranger with whom I see, and me.

Often, I get down and I feel helpless. I can’t take away the pain or fix it. I can’t even make it better. I just get bear witness to it all, however unfair that is for them, and me. That is why I have big desire to use my talents for the good of people, to improve people’s lives. I want to take this ability and do something good with it. I want to help people understand other people — to not judge — but to understand. Using this talent for the good, helps balance the yin and yang, for me and that’s what I truly desire.

* * *
I also pick up on the feelings of animals, as well. I can tell you immediately when I meet a dog if he is happy or sad — loved or neglected — just by the expression in his eyes and on his face. Dogs are very expressive as well. If only all people could see that…