“Compassion for another is becoming part of her functioning life system.”

I was on the bus.  An acquaintance boarded.  “How’re you doing?”  I said.  She had the darkest aura, the saddest expression on her face.  She shrugged with a wry smile, stuck her hand out and shook it to indicate the ‘so, so’ gesture.  It looked like she wanted to smile, but couldn’t.   “Oh no,” I said.  I let her be then.  I didn’t run to sit next to her in the two-seater to chat it up.

Later she stood in front of my seat preparing to get off of the bus.  She slumped over the partition in front of the exit door in the back.  I looked at her dejected posture and said, “I hope things get better.”  “Well…  I don’t know…  it’s not good,” she said.  She continued sadly, “By the way I read your book.  It scared me a little but I liked it.”   I thanked her for reading my book and said, “I’ll be putting the good vibes out in your direction.”  I touched her hands.  I wished that I could make whatever was wrong with her go away.  For the rest of the ride I imagined what might be wrong.  It made me sad and my eyes watered.

Earlier I had seen another acquaintance with a sad aura.  A very young woman.  She was wispy and fragile.  A beautiful girl.  I know that she had experienced trials in the past and I remembered that because of the energy that I received from her at that moment.  I asked how she was doing and noticed her eyes.  There was something in there that made me sad.  Again I wanted to cry.

I thought about the empathic creature in this old Star Trek episode.  She puts her hands on a person to feel their pain.  This is what I felt like yesterday:

Uhhhh…yeah…I, ah…

I wonder what you bloggers are like all fleshed out.  How do you smell?  Do you have armpit odor? – I love armpit odor.  What color are your auras?  It’s hard to tell from the mini-faces that come when you like my post.  I uploaded Grandma Hattie’s painting for mine.  I hope you like it but if you don’t it’s okay.

Me, well, I’m everything you’d imagine.  Why I’m all, well, kind of…  I’m a biped.  I wear light fragrance.  But I don’t know what I smell like really – it’s kind of hard, you know, being inside of your own body, to smell what you smell like…  I don’t use deodorant.  I use a mineral.  Sometimes it doesn’t work.  When that happens I have, armpit odor.  Um… kinky hair…  My skin has a sheen on it, and, I’m a kind person, actually – brown with round eyes…  Uhhh…yeah.  I, ah — English is my mother tongue.  I speak it fairly well and I know phrases and curse words in other languages. That’s how I’m describing myself now.  I hope you’ve enjoyed reading it.