Highly Sensitive People, Luna Lovegood moments & Mahatma Gandhi.

Mahatma Gandhi’s was born 150 years ago, this day today, on October 2, 1869. One of my earliest associations with him is of my naani, my beloved maternal grandmother, telling us kids, “Mahatma Gandhi used to say “Apna Kaam Khud Karo” which loosely translates to the fact that we should all be self-reliant and take personal responsibility.

Because my naani so loved knowledge (and I do mean knowledge — learning for learning’s sake), in my mind, Mahatma Gandhi is always associated with that. He is associated with my own love of learning (my naani taught me the alphabet) and with all the good feelings that I, as a child, felt with her.

You know those moments in childhood that gave you a feeling of being completely loved and accepted?

The world might have gotten to you later on, traumas might have shattered parts of your spirit, but these were the moments that carried you through. These were the moments that gave you that precious feeling of being someone intrinsically good, the feeling that you were loved, the feeling that you belonged and that you were okay.

These were the moments that created the good inside you, the good that helped you withstand the tough times, the good that gave you resilience.

These were the moments in early childhood that I remember with my naani before I, like other kids, became more conscious of the world around me and ensnared in its conditioning.

As a sensitive child who had to deal with actual trauma while growing up (and that hits us doubly hard because we process everything so deeply), for many years, I had a nagging sense that there was a crack inside me.

This was not just a thought I could disassociate from.

It was a felt experience that I carried with me for many years. I had this picture of what my self looked like. It was a sheet of glass that had a crack running through it.

With years and years of healing work – from therapy to affirmations to making art with that crack in the middle to put this feeling out of my body and release it, thankfully, I was able to let go of that sense of being broken, that sense that something was terribly wrong with me.

This feeling that a lot of sensitive kids carry is shame.

We are not taught about emotions in our world today, so we just carry this feeling without having any name for it. It’s a secret that eats at us from the inside.

We feel like we are all wrong, as if we are all broken. It’s a feeling that causes us to huddle inside ourselves, withdraw from people, feel that we are not good enough.

Looking back now, I know it’s a feeling that’s caused by all the faulty beliefs we’ve picked up from our environment, as if by osmosis.

These are the beliefs of the collective culture.

These are the beliefs of our families. These are the beliefs of a world where domination is seen as strength and consideration for others is seen as weakness.

I am not sure exactly what brought up this memory of the cracked glass up for me now.

It’s October, the month in which my naani passed away. Maybe, that.

Maybe, the fact that things come up again when you are ready to release them at a deeper level.

But whatever it is, if you are a sensitive person who feels like this or a parent with a highly sensitive child, as someone who was once that person who felt broken beyond repair, I want to say to you: You are not broken.

What’s broken is outside. What’s broken is the beliefs you’ve internalized.

You are not broken.

Yes, I know you feel that way. Yes, I know why.

But think of all the ways in which people don’t like to handle what feels inconvenient to them. People who don’t care about women’s rights demonize “modern” women. People who are racist or homophobic demonize entire groups of people.

The thing is, your being sensitive brings up stuff for other people.

When we express intense feelings, it touches on raw feelings that others have stuffed down. When we express anger at some injustice we deeply feel, it calls into question other people’s goodness.

Some people control this “threat” by shutting down or blaming us.

A while back, I had this interesting conversation on Twitter with someone after I read something they’d written. They talked about how sensitive people can intimidate other people.

Imagine that! Intimidate.

I don’t think that’s a word most of us identify with.

But I do think there is truth in it (This is the piece). Other people can sometimes feel intimidated by sensitive people because of our expression of feelings.

While we, of course, are expressing who we are and what we feel, we might be calling forth defense mechanisms in other people. (This doesn’t mean we should stop expressing ourselves, but that we should be aware of how powerful feelings are.)

As an INFP, I can say that feelings have power. Feelings are the things that move us to do things.

So, what do we do then as sensitive people?

I think some of us do have our Luna Lovegood moments when we blurt out obvious -to-us truths about other people’s inner worlds and emotions. I know I have done this. But we should be careful. Sometimes, we might, unfortunately, also shame the other person. It’s like we’ve dropped a truth-bomb in their midst. And that’s not very kind.

Or we might not be aware of the Kill the Messenger dynamic, the fact that in some situations we are talking to people who just don’t want to listen. We might be too idealistic (I know I have been in the past as an INFP.)

In these cases, we’ll be demonized even if we say something true and authentic that is also helpful but that’s not digestible to people who might either want to stay in denial or are more interested in appearing powerful and don’t want to admit to a “weakness” by admitting mistakes.

Which brings me to Mahatma Gandhi.

When I started blogging, I was hyper-aware of making mistakes. As an INFP, authenticity is a big value for me. I also knew that I didn’t know enough. I was pretty sure if I gave an opinion, it was very possible that down the line, I would change it. Wasn’t it important to be consistent in what you said?

And sadly, wasn’t it important to look consistent?

The people I saw around me who seemed to be powerful always projected an air of certainty.

There was none of that openness to doubt in them. They always tried to project that they were certain. But the thing is, certainty does not actually mean truth.

As I have found in the last few years, certainty also doesn’t mean that the person actually knows what they are talking about. Sometimes people are just BS-ing and projecting an image.

Often, honest people admit to doubts. Often, dishonest people claim to know everything there is to know about something.

So, when I was feeling pulled by these different thoughts at the start of my blogging journey, thinking “What if I write something today, and then I stop believing it later on?” How could I be consistent?, ” I found my answer in a quote by Mahatma Gandhi in which he said that in his search for the truth, he was free to change his mind anytime.

He didn’t aim for consistency in his search. He aimed for the truth.

As a writer searching for a confident voice, this felt very comforting to me. It was okay to change my mind. It was okay to be authentic and truthful about what I think and also express my doubts and uncertainties.

There was no need to preserve outer appearances.

Now, I think that the people who are looking for ready-made answers are probably not my audience anyway.

Expressing the maybes, expressing nuances is our gift as sensitive people.

We don’t paint everything in one broad brushstroke. We can often see the inconsistencies in our own arguments and they bother us if we try to be artificial and certain.

Our power is in our authenticity, not in displays of jostling for space. Our power is in expressing our true feelings against injustice even if others demonize us.

When you speak truth to power, people are not going to like you.

From the little I know of Mahatma Gandhi, he wasn’t the sanitized version that is often talked about nowadays. While he was definitely an idealist, he was also a rebel (That’s a good word.) While he was very intellectual, he was also moved by a deep sense of what was just and unjust and that deep feeling transformed his life and helped create a nation (India got its independence in 1947 from the British and my naani later lived in independent India.)

While I was growing up, in addition to the stories that talked about the making of a Mahatma (Great Soul, the moniker given to him as he became a transcendent force), I also heard stories from people who were decidedly not Mahatma Gandhi fans (and like any important historical figure, he is a complicated person with shades of light and dark).

But one interpretation that always bothered me immensely was when they talked about how they equated non-violence with cowardice.

Gandhi was the reason India and Indians didn’t have the “killer instinct.” Gandhi was the reason for all the ills that beset the country.

While I didn’t quite understand exactly what they were talking about as a teenager, as I have learned and read more, I have understood why turning the other cheek in some cases is not a cowardly act.

In fact, it’s an act of true power, an act of passive resistance.

I think that’s part of the path to power for any sensitive person, whether they are doing great things in the greater world or attempting to change power patterns with other people in their own individual life, as most of us do.

It’s an act of great power to not take revenge against someone who has truly wronged us. It’s an act of great power to not cower down and also not retaliate when someone uses brute strength against us.

Passive resistance, in the way Mahatma Gandhi used it, is a transformative collective weapon that helps us stand against an oppressor who holds a gun, when we ourselves are unarmed, and turn the other cheek.

You can hit us, but then what moral authority will you have in our world? You can hit us, but then you are truly showing who you are and slowly but surely, you will lose any hold you have on the millions you are dominating and oppressing.

I also don’t think that turning the other cheek implies that domestically abused women or a child who is bullied at school should turn the other cheek.

In fact, get the hell away from your abuser. Push the bully and most likely they will run away (unless they are big and strong physically, then you need a teacher or parent’s intervention.)

But in many situations in life and definitely for sensitive people who don’t like to control others through fear or domination, passive resistance is a powerful tool to have power over our own lives.

Resist (in the true sense of the word).

Don’t go along with things that you find wrong or problematic or unjust. Don’t respond to threats and bullies. Stay strong in your own truth.

Feel your fear, and release it. Take the action that’s right. Have power over yourself.

Who has power?

The one who is so fearful that they need to control others to feel safe?

Or the one who can stay true to their own convictions and live them and see threats & power moves for what they often are — intimidation tactics.

On this Gandhi Jayanti, let’s ignite the sensitive warrior in all of us and light a torch for positive power. I think we’ve had enough of the other kind.