Frequencies

frequenciesI didn’t even know her. By the time we moved onto the street, Carrie was a teenager and already asserting her independence. She passed by me once, during one of our annual summer street parties, her purple hair waving as proudly as any freak-flag I’d ever known. She kind of skip-hopped along, causing me to smile, thankful for her outrageous presence.

They say she was a talented artist and a free spirit, looked upon by some with awe. They say she was kind and engaging, a good friend, a good student, a good daughter. They say she had a dark side which prevented  her from seeing how many people actually did appreciate her. They say, at eighteen years old, she took her own life with drugs. The sorrow on our little street was palpable. It just emanated through the cold and snow and the quietly closed doors. Why?

A tour through Carrie’s journals revealed a steady theme; “nobody likes me”. The “Celebration of Carrie’s Life”, held at the old town hall, gave evidence to the contrary. She was loved, admired and appreciated by the hundreds who showed up to pay their respects. Why didn’t she know that? What made her think that nobody liked her?

Frequencies, Appreciating Our Own Unique Vibration

After listening to the many stories and tributes given and viewing a lifetime of pictures projected onto the big screen at the front of the room, I drew my own conclusion. It was obvious that Carrie marched to the beat of her own drum. Or put in other words, she carried her own unique vibration. We all do. It just seems that some of us are a little more unique than others (exhibit A; the purple hair) and that leaves us a little more vulnerable to our own interpretations of the world around us.

How many times have I given my joy over to the deep hurt of rejection and betrayal. How about you? But wait… key word: perceived rejection and betrayal! What if Carrie had known that a person she perceived as not liking her was simply somebody vibrating at a different frequency; somebody who just didn’t live where she lived? I spent years looking for “my tribe”. Sometimes I found the occasional person who matched or complemented my vibration. Once or twice I even found a whole tribe, for a while. But in the end, it’s come down to this; I embrace my soul mates when I find them and don’t worry about those who are not. They’re just looking for their own tribe and I’m not it. Sometimes people just don’t get you. That doesn’t make your shining spirit any less valuable nor does it diminish your gifts.

Everybody wants to know why. What could anyone have done to prevent this? Maybe nothing. Apparently nothing. Perhaps Carrie stayed as long as she could in a vibration that was just too intense for her sensitivities. Maybe she’ll try again. I can only surmise that which  I can relate to. There is nothing else I can know for sure.

A wise man once said to me, “You are loved, you are needed and you are a vital part of the spiritual body on earth.” What if we looked upon everybody we met in a day, with that message in our hearts? What then?

Read the second part of this series: Meegwetch, Releasing Judgement

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9 Comments

  1. Thank you for writing about something so painful that many of us cannot speak of, or make sense of. I am very grateful for your unique perspective concerning vibration and how it may have been “just too intense for her sensitivities.”

    I hope her parents have the opportunity to read your unique perspective and wise words, Nancy.

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