To the ones who feel too deeply, this one’s for you.
Life often feels like walking through a crowded marketplace with open hands. Every voice, every glance, every energy clings to you. Fills your palms until you can no longer hold your own.
I know.
The world doesn’t just pass you by; it seeps into you. With every encounter, you carry more than just your own weight. You treat societal flaws as burdens and turn every friend’s problems into your own.
I know.
Yet, there is a quiet strength—an art you can master—in observing without absorbing, in caring without carrying.
You walk past a small flower every morning on your way to school. At first, it’s just a part of the scenery. A spot of colour on a monotonous, dry path.
One day, you pause. You notice its petals drooping, thirsty for water.
So, you tend to it—pouring a bit of yourself into it every day. It blossoms under your care. Becomes something beautiful, something personal.
One day, you find it wilted. And you assign blame not to the storm that bolted last night, but the one who was there for you all along—yourself.
This is what it feels like to live with an open heart in a world that doesn’t really nurture it. Kindness can be fleeting. Empathy, taken for granted. It’s quite easy to blur the line between noticing the struggles of others and making them your own.
There’s beauty in learning to care for the world without letting it consume you. To observe is to be present, to notice, and to understand. To absorb, on the other hand, is to internalize — to take the weight of every sadness, every anger, every joy around you and make it your own.
And while there is grace in empathy, there is wisdom in discernment.
We are often fooled by our hunger. A sip of cold water feels warm when your hands are frozen. A simple meal feels divine when you are starving. And the bare minimum can feel like abundance when you’ve gone without for too long.
So, what should you do? First, honor your empathy, but set boundaries. It’s okay to care, to lend a hand, or even to grieve for someone else’s pain — but know when to step back. Some battles are not yours to fight, and that does not make you any less kind.
Second, practice letting go. Not every flower you water will bloom. Some will wither despite your best efforts, and that’s not a reflection of your care. Learn to cherish your effort rather than mourning what was beyond your control.
Lastly, shift your focus inward. When the world demands too much, pause and ask yourself—What do I need right now? What will restore me, help me grow? Your energy is finite, and it is sacred. Spend it wisely.
The art of observing without absorbing is not about becoming indifferent. It’s about finding the balance between feeling and flourishing. It takes time to realize that kindness doesn’t mean self-sacrifice, and empathy doesn’t mean erasing your own needs.
So, to you, the one who feels too deeply,
You are here to live, not to carry the weight of the world. To notice the tides, but not be swept away by them. To tend to the flowers, but not tie your joy to their blooming. And most importantly, to walk through everything with an open heart, but a guarded soul.
Comments