Wait! Not that picture!
This picture!
I remember an early Star Trek episode that made quite an impression on me: women who were cultivated for their abilities to pick up on men’s fantasies and then become that woman. They were called empaths and were irresistible !” I think I have empath qualities that must be isolated and nipped in the bud. Not that I am worried about becoming a playmate goddess to men I meet--au contraire, I’m in danger of becoming an empath in other personality aspects.
For instance, while waiting in a long line at Best Buys, I couldn’t resist tossing a $4 CD of French music into my cart. I was desperate for music in the Jeep--I can’t listen to the radio because what they call “Christmas” music is that awful cheap chestnuts secular drivel. The Christian stations play versions of carols that sound as if the singers are a cross between the New Mainstreet Singers from “A Mighty Wind” and a gay chorus out of a Mel Brooks movie. So I really wanted some music that was not going to irritate. (Stay with me now--the empath part is coming!)
I put on the CD of French music and enjoyed it. And enjoyed it the third, fourth and fifth times. But then I noticed I was beginning to curl my lower lip down into a pout. After a couple of days I found myself shrugging my shoulders and muttering “absurd” as a reaction to almost everything. Pretty soon I was fighting the urge to take up smoking. That’s when I realized I was going into the empath mode! I wiped off my red lipstick, got out of my tight black sweater and black pants and stopped straightening my hair. You see how easily it happens? But then I noticed Empath Mode had crept in again.
For instance, while waiting in a long line at Best Buys, I couldn’t resist tossing a $4 CD of French music into my cart. I was desperate for music in the Jeep--I can’t listen to the radio because what they call “Christmas” music is that awful cheap chestnuts secular drivel. The Christian stations play versions of carols that sound as if the singers are a cross between the New Mainstreet Singers from “A Mighty Wind” and a gay chorus out of a Mel Brooks movie. So I really wanted some music that was not going to irritate. (Stay with me now--the empath part is coming!)
I put on the CD of French music and enjoyed it. And enjoyed it the third, fourth and fifth times. But then I noticed I was beginning to curl my lower lip down into a pout. After a couple of days I found myself shrugging my shoulders and muttering “absurd” as a reaction to almost everything. Pretty soon I was fighting the urge to take up smoking. That’s when I realized I was going into the empath mode! I wiped off my red lipstick, got out of my tight black sweater and black pants and stopped straightening my hair. You see how easily it happens? But then I noticed Empath Mode had crept in again. 
The wrapped in black fashion statement adapted readily to attending the Orthodox Church for so many Christmas liturgies. I dragged out my ugliest heavy black shoes to go with my old bla
ck hippie skirt. The shawl from the old days was back in use as a head covering. I was wearing thick black tights that I’d forgotten I had! When I saw all the clergy with their high black Russian hats on, part of me tensed up as I waited for the sound of hoof beats from an approaching Red Army advance party! I really had to talk myself back to reality--I was not in a time warp where the Revolution was beginning and I was not getting ready for a casting call for the prequel to “Nickolas and Alexandra!” 
Empaths beware! It sneaks up on you--it is part of the syndrome. Perhaps displaced persons are particularly susceptible. If I don’t watch it I will turn into one of the locals who glories in her gray hair and would rather forego the next Stop the War Rally than get highlights. Thank heavens I caught myself in time. By the way, do these shiny stretch bicycle pants make my butt look big?
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