Sitting on the top ledge of my desk is a small stack of books, including Making Work Work for the Highly Sensitive Person, which has been one in a series that have served as guideposts the last six years and helped me find positive associations for the adjective that so often felt shaming, "sensitive." I've grown to understand and even treasure the real benefits of the trait (referred to by the book as 20 percent of individuals who absorb and process information with greater depth). The trait has helped me as a researcher and social person to quickly perceive information about people and situations.
But the truth is I haven't opened the book in some time. In fact the past three years I've opened it hardly at all, a sharp contrast to graduate school when I read it and its close relative- Elaine Aron's The Highly Sensitive Person, an HSP-like bible, so often they practically slept on my pillow with me. As I've aged and gained new experiences the book, although I still feel tenderly towards it, sits more as a memorial to those prior moment of self-revelation. Ever the one to invest in self-growth, I'm now investigating the ultra-masculine framed work of Darren Hardy, success coach for the rich and famous. I'm synthesizing the privilege and empowerment seeded into Darren's tools with the prior wisdom I mined from the highly sensitive evangelists. Certainly more to come on this front.
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Reb on the WebThis is my personal blog where I share my search for meaning in both the nuanced and mundane. Archives
March 2020
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