Compassion Fatigue

People bring me their pain. Clients and strangers alike. When you work as an intuitive reader, or a healer, or coach, it comes with the territory.

I wasn’t always well-suited for it, though. The first mediumship reading I ever got, the one that can be credited with helping to push me down this path, revealed to me something interesting:

Your well is empty. You trust people too easily. People are taking the nourishment from your plate, from out of your garden, and they’re leaving behind garbage and rot. It’s time to exercise your boundaries, be discerning about who you let in. Fill your well.

So I did. I had a great guide at the time who helped me. I quickly became very efficient at being selective about the people and energies I let in, and those that I refused.

It’s funny. Time and time again I see that some of the most sensitive (and energetically absorbent) people that cross my path are also, often, the most unconscious and natural of healers. They’re also the people who are most susceptible to being taken advantage of. They’re drained. Their health suffers.

Some people, like me, sought to be the salve for anyone’s and everyone’s wounds.

And I understand why many intuitives and healers have a hard time sticking to their boundaries once they’ve gotten a taste of energetic autonomy. The flip side of this, often, is a peculiar lack-of-pain.

It feels like compassion fatigue. A client pours their heart out to you, and you don’t feel a thing. You’re untouchable. And you think – I’m a monster. Have I lost all my empathy?

You think – It’d be better to feel the pain than to feel nothing.

So you lower the walls. You give everyone a pass into your inner sanctum. You open up your hands.

Listen to me. If you’ve been trying to restore your own energetic integrity and health, and you’re finding it difficult, then perhaps this reminder will serve you well.

Your lack of emotional response may be exactly what is called for. Not only are you not the solution to everyone’s problems, some people actually aren’t ready for the healing words or assistance that you’re poised to provide.

Misery loves company, my friend. Some people will bring you their pain, their problems, their fears, and they’re looking for your empty hands. They don’t want your empathy, or the co-creative assistance that makes the work we do so effective - they want your generosity.

It’s ok to keep your hands in your pockets. If your empathy doesn’t kick in when their tears begin to flow, you’re not a monster. Invitations are not obligations.