My Indigo Life
by Vicky Jensen
My Indigo Life
I found out that I am an indigo in the most odd of all places. I was in the grocery store when I was approached by an older woman. “Your aura is beautiful!”, she exclaimed to me, staring, with arms full of bread. Taken back by such a comment I didn’t know how to first respond. I looked up at her shyly into her eyes gave her a huge genuine, “thank-you”. Curious I stopped to talk with her for a while. I found out she was a clairvoyant, and has been reading auras for many years. She caught mine out of a sea of many because it was ‘different’. Not only was my aura a different color with a strong purplish blue hue but my personality as well. Curious on the subject I researched it and found a lot of sites and information on the subject, including the site metagifted. The traits really resonated with me in a familiar comforting way, knowing I was not the only one that felt all these things. I have always known I was different, even from an extremely young age.
My parents have always affectionately referred to me as "a difficult child". From the age of two, my mother recalls me as being obstinate child, prone to temper outbursts if I did not get my way. She, my two older sisters and I will occasionally reminisce during family gathering about the days when I went through the terrible 2's, 3's, 4's, well, they say I can still be strong-headed to the point of foolishness to this day.
As I look back to my childhood, I remember from the early age of three feeling frustration and anger because I had difficulty understanding and accepting, as well as communicating intense emotions I was feeling. Why don't they understand, I would think, that all I want is a window of communication? Why couldn't they understand that it was not a flutter of emotion, but more like a tidal wave hitting my heart when I felt things?
Those who know me describe me as being to overly sensitive to situations within life. I experience extreme sympathy and empathy for what others are feeling, almost as if as though whatever they were feeling was somehow inside of me, a part of me, too. It feels as though I absorb whatever energy they are feeling, like a sponge. I could immediately tap into their emotions and instinctively know how to comfort them. Actions by others involving disrespect, unkindness and lack of consideration for all living things on this earth makes me want to change the world somehow. Make it a better place to live for everyone, knowing that my love will help transform it somehow.
To find harmony and peace within myself, I turn to music as my creative outlet, because of the way it makes me feel inside. When I was twelve years old, I remember getting my first trumpet. I was so enthusiastic about music, I practiced everyday for hours and excelled above the majority of the band students my first year. I went to state competition that following year and won three awards, for soloist, director’s award, and region. I was labeled as gifted from the band directors and new from then on that music was my calling. I am now a singer/songwriter of folk and indie rock. I write music that is taken from the driving connections I feel for others and make these the focal point in my music.
My high school years were daunting; I was a poor student with a very poor attention span for the subjects taught in school. I found most of the subjects boring and often caught myself daydreaming or writing to pass the time. I am and was back then a daydreamer, and often found myself sitting in class thinking of the philosophical reason for life and my life. I guess I felt school was more or less a waste of time and used to get angry over the tedious repetious work that was always being handed out. I would have much rathered been spending time playing my music, writing or pondering life and the paranormal things. I was tested many times through school, as the teachers attempt to find why I was underachieving so much. I was labeled with a non-verbal learning disability and ADD. I went through a stage of depression and was suicidal through my late teens into my twenties. I was later diagnosed with bipolar disorder. I was medicated, though not anymore, and found it a numbing experience.
While medicated my creativity was simply not there. I couldn’t write my music and lost my muse for a very long time. I had trouble feeling other people’s vibes and energies like I once was able to. I found the period in which I was medicated, I was very out of tune with myself and the rhythm of things, when before, I was always very much in tune. I felt oddly disconnected and did not feel like myself. I am sad to hear of the amount of doctors to ready to pull out the pen and paper for the prescription pad, instead of taking alternate approaches, like gearing their high energy towards the arts or sports. I feel medication is not the key into healing these children. In fact, I feel as though it’s not the children that need healing but most often the exhausted parents. I feel parents need to be better equipped to suit to their children’s needs and not the other way around. When I look at some of these children, I see a mirror image of myself, the misunderstood child. I feel a common pain with these children. Looking through their eyes into the rigid world, some medicated and as disconnected as I once was, hoping someday there will be an understanding.