This is an updated/edited re-post from when Just Seeing One was private.  I read it this morning and laughed out loud.  Something, someone, must have pissed me off.  It’s quite humorous.

Here are a few additions:  there are more people who give then take.  I know this to be true, 100%.  There are many many more light based happy souls in existence than vampire-social-jellyfish.  But the premise is the same, honor the energy exchange.  Honor the positive exchange and honor the negative exchange beyond the need to understand why.  There is no why.  There just is.

From September 2013

You all know the person, the people, always ready with a snide comment.  The person who is fun and offers a certain camaraderie one minute, and the next, sends a zinger, a barb, an ouch, followed by a laugh.  Hahaha, be a good fellow and laugh with me, at your own expense, hahah.  They are the ones who go to a birthday party, for say, my husband and comment on how much it costs or that the music isn’t what they like or somebody’s shirt isn’t tucked in or the color is wrong or something else small and insignificant to make themselves feel better, to feed some strange insecurity that prevents them from simply relishing in and celebrating someone else’s joy.  I hate those people.  I really do.  If they can’t be happy, I’d rather they come out and inhabit their shit directly. That way, at least they’d be honest. Like the woman who says to my husband, “I figure your guitar teacher must be pretty good if he can teach [even] you to play that way.”  Really?  Fuck off.  There.  How’s that?   Hahaha. There isn’t a kinder more generous man on the planet than my husband, and you can’t replace that with voice lesson.  Hahaha.  Because at least I’m owning my insults, at least I’m acting with integrity.  Either way, the energy exchange is the same.  Actually, I think the ones that hide in social innuendo are worse for they’re hiding their true nature as energetic vampires feeding in the dark, feeding off interpersonal interactions to make themselves feel better, yucking other people’s yum to feed the abysmal empty place within themselves, if just for a moment.  Because it never lasts.  Beyond my reactive nature, I know those zingers are a product of something deeply broken, a wound that can never heal with the temporary self congratulatory gratification of a verbal shot at someone else’s expense, no matter how coifed in social niceties.  Hahaha.  Oh darling.

None of this seems beautiful, right?  Except it is.  The awareness of these people and of the energy exchange is a beautiful cleansing, purge, and freedom wrapped into one.  Because the awareness is the protection.  The awareness strips social jelly fish of their ability to feed. The awareness makes it so very easy to walk away. Oh, come on, I was only kidding, hahaha.  Yep.  Roger that.  Come on, let’s get together again sometime soon.  Oh yes, you must be due for feeding, that would be so fun.

I am free. I don’t know what freed me, but I feel free.  When did that happen?  How did that happen?  I don’t know, but I’m grateful.

Because hidden within the commentary on social vampires/jelly fish (how’s that for mixing metaphors), what I find beautiful, truly beautiful, is a deep honoring of all energy exchanges between people.  I don’t have to understand why I feel constricted, small, slighted, or just plain bad after an interaction. I doubt the energy exchange is intentional for that would be maniacal.  No, I think it’s just the way some people have evolved.  They have no clue they are doing it, let alone why.  But it is not my job to edify or understand.    That’s the shift.  I used to wonder, “Did they mean it this way or that way?”  “Why would they need to say that?”  “Is that intentional?”  Now, it doesn’t matter. If I notice the feeling, I simply walk. I honor that intuition.  I honor the awareness of the energy without complicating or justifying or judging with my mind.  I simply walk.

For a few months, Grace slept completely under the covers.  Each night, she tucked her toys deep under the blankets toward the foot of her bed then pulled her sheet up over her head. That’s how we’d find her, hours later when we checked on her before going to sleep.  Toys and little girl, buried beneath the sheets.

The first time I asked her why she pulled the covers over her head, she said, “To be safe from the bad man.”

“What bad man?” I asked, alarmed.

“The bad man in the ceiling.”  Did she see ghosts?  Was it from one of the Disney movies she watched, where there’s always a bad man? Was there some remnant of Aubrey’s bad juju hanging around?  Was there some formation of the wood in the ceiling that looked like a man?

“Is he there now?” I asked, looking up, trying to see what my little girl was seeing, trying to see the world through her eyes. But Grace just laughed and pushed her toys under the sheet to “keep them safe.”

“Hey Gracie girl,” I said.  ” If you see that man again, you just tell him to leave.  You say, Go away.  Leave Gracie alone.  You’re not welcome here.”  I hoped to empower her to overcome her fear.  I was unprepared for her response.

“Bad man, you go away!!” My little girl said with vehemence and complete authority. “You leave Grace alone!  You’re not welcome here!”

“Good job baby girl.” I laughed.  “You tell him!  Say it again.”

Grace scrunched up her face and pointed her tiny finger at the ceiling and said with such force and jurisdiction, “You go away.  You leave Grace alone!  You’re not welcome here!”

“Good job Grace,” I said and kissed her forehead.

“Thank you Momma,” she replied, all lightness and joy, and pride as well.  Then she gave me a huge boogery kiss.

I can’t talk to the man in the ceiling, at least not in public.  But if Grace’s power was in her words, my power is in awareness.   Pure awareness, without understanding, of what is given and what is taken. Just notice.  Don’t explain.  Don’t ask why.  Just notice.  Just see.  And honor that. My mind loves the why.  Why doesn’t matter. Because social jellyfish live and thrive in the dark murky waters of a mind, of a scarcity outlook governed by a belief in limited resources of joy and happiness and success, and they want nothing more than to drag you into their waters. Best just to let them be.

And if they if they do scuttle out from the darkness to feed, I say take one from Grace’s book and be direct.  Just say,

Don’t do that!  *finger wagging*  Just don’t.

It’s not cool.

Don’t yuck my yum.

Don’t piss on my bliss.

Don’t fuck my fun.

Go someplace else to feed.  You’re not welcome here!

That’a girl, Grace.