Work.
Stress, from having to pep talk with the boyfriend. Gloom, from having to bear with the foul weather. Shift would have been a monotony like yesterday, if it was not broken today by having to wear a new body-fit shirt given by a friend last week. Such changes become a pleasant distraction to how my life run in circles these past few days.
Work.
I am being paid to carry someone else's emotional baggage. For some reasons, the pep talk with the boyfriend spilled over and inspired my answers to be extra compassionate to people I chat over the computer. I cannot remember how the conversation began, but what I know is that I was one of the user's "personal psychic." I am sure it started with a "love" problem: A pregnant wife complaining about everything; a tired heart seeking new possibilities with another person.
"Please understand that her pregnancy makes her emotions a little unstable. Think of her reactions as a result of the uncertainty she is feeling for the child." It was a safe answer. But I doubt if such advice will work for me.
The subject changed from love to life. In my profession, you always have to be the optimist no matter how you live your life in the darkness. The pureness of my intentions must have won the user that he began confessing his anxieties about the future believing I was a psychic. Remembering my friend Biela, it doesn't take a real psychic to read someone's feelings. A little act of empathy will win you a person so long as you try to feel his situation.
Which makes you think, will empathy become a prized commodity someday?
The text exchanges continue. "Will I have a better life in the future?"
"The Tarot Cards reveal a bright future ahead of you. Believe in your potentials and the universe will do the rest." I answered.
"But the other psychics tell that I am destined to become a failure? Should I believe them or not?"
"Why do you have to believe someone who will put you down? I believe you. Soar high and become the person you really want to be."
Why is it easier to find the weakness of others, instead of making them feel better by propping up their strengths?
"Tell me something about myself?"
"What I know is that you are longing to find your missing pieces. I sense brokenness in you. Despite you feelings of aimlessness, I sense that you are a deep and good person."
Playing god is fun, especially when you use your powers to draw the better sides of the person who thinks you are a god.
"There is no doubt that you will finish school and get your dream job someday. Never let go of your dreams and persevere to achieve them no matter how hopeless the situation is."
To be honest, I am not sure if my responses were correct. I am not even certain whether my replies were just sugar-coated deceptions or the inspiration came from my higher intentions of making someone believe of a better life. All I know is that the guy was seeking my affirmation. Being his psychic, I had to take the higher moral ground. Being his confidant, I was responsible for lifting him up.
After three hours and countless text message exchanges later, he decided to end the chat and return to the reality he has to live everyday. We talked about many things including how to earn money or how to live a healthy life. Of course, I gave answers that will not cause the clients any trouble. And yet for someone who might have limited access to information, what I said was already a treasure trove of wisdom. Satisfied with our conversation, he said "thanks" before leaving and his last words had put a smile on my face.
Because in my line of work, I learned to put value on the words "thank you" for it meant that I did a good job. It meant that I was able to connect with someone who sought my advice, even if such advice came from my inner capriciousness that I based on my mood. In the long course of talking to people, I encountered anxious teens - girls who were merely suspicious whether their boyfriends cheat on them or not; girls who sought the chance of a relationship with their crushes, boys who hoped for a reconciliation with their exes, and people who had doubts about their sexuality.
I'm so used to dealing with petty issues,
that when someone asks the meaning of life
and then tells later that he is actually capable of committing acts of extreme violence,
An immense feeling of astonishment surges from within me.
For in all our grand and ambitious attempts to impose a certain stereotype to the people we encounter, life draws a wild card and shakes the very order of things we have imposed upon our surroundings.
"My hood is very violent. I am a member of a gang."
Who would have thought it was gangsta I tried to set free.
Stress, from having to pep talk with the boyfriend. Gloom, from having to bear with the foul weather. Shift would have been a monotony like yesterday, if it was not broken today by having to wear a new body-fit shirt given by a friend last week. Such changes become a pleasant distraction to how my life run in circles these past few days.
Work.
I am being paid to carry someone else's emotional baggage. For some reasons, the pep talk with the boyfriend spilled over and inspired my answers to be extra compassionate to people I chat over the computer. I cannot remember how the conversation began, but what I know is that I was one of the user's "personal psychic." I am sure it started with a "love" problem: A pregnant wife complaining about everything; a tired heart seeking new possibilities with another person.
"Please understand that her pregnancy makes her emotions a little unstable. Think of her reactions as a result of the uncertainty she is feeling for the child." It was a safe answer. But I doubt if such advice will work for me.
The subject changed from love to life. In my profession, you always have to be the optimist no matter how you live your life in the darkness. The pureness of my intentions must have won the user that he began confessing his anxieties about the future believing I was a psychic. Remembering my friend Biela, it doesn't take a real psychic to read someone's feelings. A little act of empathy will win you a person so long as you try to feel his situation.
Which makes you think, will empathy become a prized commodity someday?
The text exchanges continue. "Will I have a better life in the future?"
"The Tarot Cards reveal a bright future ahead of you. Believe in your potentials and the universe will do the rest." I answered.
"But the other psychics tell that I am destined to become a failure? Should I believe them or not?"
"Why do you have to believe someone who will put you down? I believe you. Soar high and become the person you really want to be."
Why is it easier to find the weakness of others, instead of making them feel better by propping up their strengths?
"Tell me something about myself?"
"What I know is that you are longing to find your missing pieces. I sense brokenness in you. Despite you feelings of aimlessness, I sense that you are a deep and good person."
Playing god is fun, especially when you use your powers to draw the better sides of the person who thinks you are a god.
"There is no doubt that you will finish school and get your dream job someday. Never let go of your dreams and persevere to achieve them no matter how hopeless the situation is."
To be honest, I am not sure if my responses were correct. I am not even certain whether my replies were just sugar-coated deceptions or the inspiration came from my higher intentions of making someone believe of a better life. All I know is that the guy was seeking my affirmation. Being his psychic, I had to take the higher moral ground. Being his confidant, I was responsible for lifting him up.
After three hours and countless text message exchanges later, he decided to end the chat and return to the reality he has to live everyday. We talked about many things including how to earn money or how to live a healthy life. Of course, I gave answers that will not cause the clients any trouble. And yet for someone who might have limited access to information, what I said was already a treasure trove of wisdom. Satisfied with our conversation, he said "thanks" before leaving and his last words had put a smile on my face.
Because in my line of work, I learned to put value on the words "thank you" for it meant that I did a good job. It meant that I was able to connect with someone who sought my advice, even if such advice came from my inner capriciousness that I based on my mood. In the long course of talking to people, I encountered anxious teens - girls who were merely suspicious whether their boyfriends cheat on them or not; girls who sought the chance of a relationship with their crushes, boys who hoped for a reconciliation with their exes, and people who had doubts about their sexuality.
I'm so used to dealing with petty issues,
that when someone asks the meaning of life
and then tells later that he is actually capable of committing acts of extreme violence,
An immense feeling of astonishment surges from within me.
For in all our grand and ambitious attempts to impose a certain stereotype to the people we encounter, life draws a wild card and shakes the very order of things we have imposed upon our surroundings.
"My hood is very violent. I am a member of a gang."
Who would have thought it was gangsta I tried to set free.
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