Hummingbird and A Psychotic Episode
Rewiring the Nervous System
Over time, I’ve learned that my nervous system reacts to various stimuli in predictable ways: tightness in my chest, shoulders, neck, and other areas where I hold stress. I've also learned that this reaction isn’t limited to negative experiences. For example, I’ve noticed the same physiological response—tightness and tension—during moments of immense joy or beauty.
One morning, I had two vastly different encounters. First, I witnessed someone having a psychotic episode outside my apartment. I could feel their pain and anger as if they were my own, almost absorbing their projecting energy. Not long after, I had a completely different experience: a hummingbird flew into my yard, pausing to inspect its surroundings with delicate curiosity. It was a stunning, peaceful moment, yet my body responded to both events in the same way—tightness and tension.
This taught me something profound: my body doesn’t distinguish between “positive” or “negative” energy. To my nervous system, it’s all just a stimulus. The tension, the constriction, is simply my body’s conditioned response.
Shifting from Constriction to Openness
This realization reframed how I approach healing and growth. Instead of trying to control external circumstances—chasing positive experiences and avoiding negative ones—I want to focus on how my nervous system responds to stimuli. The goal isn’t to eliminate tension entirely but to teach my body to react openly rather than constrict.
When energy enters my awareness, I want my body to feel safe, expand, and allow it to flow rather than resist or contract. This doesn’t mean denying or ignoring the energy; it means meeting it with neutrality and curiosity. Whether it’s the pain of someone’s trauma or the joy of a hummingbird’s visit, I want to remain centered in myself, letting the energy pass through without destabilizing me.
Boundaries and Self-Centered Awareness
The psychotic episode outside my apartment highlighted a critical need: the need to strengthen my boundaries. At that moment, I felt like I was living the person’s pain, seeing the world through their eyes. This was not helpful for them or me. Absorbing someone else’s energy is not the same as offering compassion or healing.
I want to cultivate a strong magnetic self-love that attracts others to their healing without requiring me to take on their energy. I aim to be so rooted in my sense of self that external energies, no matter how intense, do not penetrate or destabilize me. This isn’t about indifference but neutrality—being open and present without losing myself in someone else’s experience.
The Lesson in Stimulus
Ultimately, I’ve learned that the content of the stimulus—whether it’s joy, sadness, anger, or beauty—matters less than how my nervous system responds to it. My body doesn’t naturally distinguish between a hummingbird and a psychotic episode; it reacts based on its conditioned patterns. My work is to rewire those patterns, teaching my body to relax, expand, and remain grounded, no matter the energy I encounter.
This isn’t a rejection of the world or its experiences but an invitation to meet them from a place of strength, openness, and love. By doing this, I reclaim my power over how energy affects me, choosing how I respond rather than being at the mercy of automatic reactions.
