My Latest Synesthesia OLP Developments

I have synesthesia. 🤍

Specifically: ordinal-linguistic personification (OLP).

For those new to the terms, synesthesia is a genetic neurological🧠 condition “in which stimulation of one sensory or cognitive pathway (for example, hearing) leads to automatic, involuntary experiences in a second sensory or cognitive pathway (such as vision). Simply put, when one sense is activated, another unrelated sense is activated at the same time.” [Thanks, Goo-gal.]

The type I have (OLP) means all of my alphabet letters🔠 and numbers🔢 have personalities (and some assigned colors that I can’t not associate them with.)

The best guess is that 1-2% of the population has it, but I think it’s much higher⬆️, because a lot of people don’t know it’s a thing and think it’s normal🧐. It literally took until I was total adult status before I was informed it was a thing that a few others had, and that there was some research into it. Imagine my shock😱! (From freak to kindred spirit in no time flat!)

Now that I’ve said all that, I’m being raw and open today and just putting out there the latest synesthesia-caused developments in my life👩🏻‍💻.

My reading, writing, mathematical skills have all been impacted by OLP all my life. It takes a process to spell words, read words, and do math. In some cases, a process that is 2 to 4 times longer⏱ than my counterparts.

To learn to read📖, I memorized the “soap opera” that was playing out🎭 between my letters alongside basic phonics. But basic phonics was a failsafe. “Feeling” my way through words was much safer🌷, much easier. To this day, I can take any word and tell you what “soap opera” is going on between the male and female letters in a word. (Truth: I freaked out happily🥳 when I married and my new last name no longer had negativity in it! His letters were all at peace😌 and in perfect order for me to relax with them every time I read it. My own real first name has an ongoing war⚔️ in it. I’ve recently thought about changing my first name, but haven’t convinced my Husband yet🤷🏻‍♀️.)

Math was the same “soap opera”… Algebra was a nightmare👻 of numbers and letters straight-up refusing to talk with each other. I was homeschooled, so after multiple breakdown episodes, my poor Mother recognized I was stronger in words📓 regardless of her own strengths in math, and offered to train me further in words than force me go on to advanced advanced algebra. A deal I took in a heartbeat💓.

So, here I am. Author. Blogger. And realizing just today that all my life I’ve been pushing😓 myself to be “normal.” Well. Trying to appear normal🚻.

[Crap. Why am I crying while typing a simple blog?? Ugg. Carry on…..]

I’ve known that I was “slower” getting to the same lesson solutions my Brother (no synesthesia) worked out. I was slower🐌 at reading, writing papers (unless said brother was unfocused), head math, and several other schoolwork areas. And I didn’t know why then, but now, I understand I was putting words and math through a much longer process⚙️ to arrive at the same output.

It was something like this when I was young.

  1. See word
  2. See each letter as the person they are and discover what they are doing with the surrounding letters in that word
  3. See if the “soap opera” seems familiar
  4. Find the “soap opera” word
  5. Double check✅ to be sure not confused with similar “soap opera”
  6. Triple check✅ with basic phonics Mom taught me
  7. All points agree? If yes, that’s the right word. If no, look again.
  8. Move forward with confidence! That’s the word!🎉

Over time, I memorized🤓 a ton of words and got faster and faster at running through this process. Only getting stumped on the words that were new✨ or their “soap opera” hadn’t been seen in awhile. My vocabulary grew as long as I was fascinated by the “soap opera” feel of the new word.

Convert the above process⚙️ to numbers and that’s how I learned math and new equations.

This all came up recently. Right after a nasty breakdown while I was handling our Household Budget💸.

I’m proficient enough in math these days, (got a ton of dramas memorized,) but I still have to run through the ridiculous process⚙️, and it’s… well… taxing. Somewhat exhausting in itself🤤.

Just so happened that my Sweet Husband was sitting beside me trying to answer any of my placement questions, because he set up Mint🌱 for us, and I was handling the directing of finance-flow. But then I had to log into Mint on the laptop💻 for some reason, and saw that my paper📝 income total was different than that inside Mint.

I panicked😰, and tried to figure out which number was right. I had so carefully tried to avoid mistakes, how could I have missed the freaking income?!? Asking my Husband availed to my paper budget being flawed, so I franticly ran through everything to try and get the budget back into place with $300 less. Where there’d been wiggle🐛 room, there was no longer. I agonized over paying the Housecleaner🧽 a bit less (I try to overpay her always, I love her so much), agonized over the food🍱 budget again, on and on. Math through the current-day process⚙️.

Finally I got it right. Then, I realized, Mint🌱 on the web wasn’t tallying our income correctly. I showed my Husband and he quickly corrected🙆🏻‍♂️ it so it showed me the right thing.

I looked down at my paper budget and realized: I’d gone through the agony😖 of math for an hour, trying to fix something that wasn’t a problem at all.

I melted down.

I yelled🌋 at the situation and how everyone is good at math and it’s such an emotional💔 struggle (because I have to “feel” through the numbers each time), then I was yelling💢 about how it’s the same with my Co-writer and how she writes with apparent ease while I struggle through not only the freakin’ word feels, but the feels of my characters (HSP also, hello🤦🏻‍♀️), too!

Then I cried mad. Stormed to my room⚡️.

Cried sad. (Okay, maybe sobbed.)

Then wondered what on earth was wrong with me, melting down over letters and numbers and a budget that had $300 more than I thought.

God very gently told me, “You’ve been trying💔 to be like everyone else all your life.”

I cried again because He knows I’m visual, and He did a great job of reminding me how hard I tried as a child, as a teen, and in college to appear🚻 to learn and think and spout off answers as quickly🐇 as everyone else.

But, learning the world around me by feeling🤍 has been a slow and tedious process⚙️.

In essence, I lied to everyone💔.

Why? To be accepted and seen as normal and worthy💎, I guess.

I always wanted to be worthy of that gold star⭐️, of the pat on the back, of the “good job” exclamation. I might’ve gotten some growing up, but it felt like nothing compared to the Brother that tested well🥇 and got through University with a 4.0 GPA. [My Husband is quick to point out every time I mention this that I had a 3.8 and graduated Magna Cum Laude, just above the threshold to get the same gold sticker as my Brother on my diploma.] To this day, I’ve always imagined the notes📒 I keep for work, the spreadsheets kept for world-building🪐, and the emails and texts I craft take far, far too long to come up with.

Again, compared to others without Synesthesia. Or HSP.

It all came out in the meltdown. And God challenged me on it. 🦋

Just being me means I step up with the truth: I’m not normal, and acting like I am has been pushing my writing and math too hard for too long💙.

I need to give it up. Not burn out. And not freak for being different.

Just be me. 🦄

So yeah. If you or anyone you know needs to see my story for encouragement, please share.

And if you have OLP, welcome to the club. 🖖

It’s weird here, and we have our genetics🧬 and God to thank.

My Passion

From a young age, I’ve seen the world through eyes easily delighted.
Knowing there is a Creator has only intensified the delight, because I can see Him behind beauty of all kinds.
Behind light.
Behind order.
Behind details.

If strings from each and every year of my short life were tied to one thing,
it would be to my delight shared with the Creator.
He shows me something—points to it like a Father, or a close friend—then we look at it and I tell Him how beautiful, or cool, or awesome, or fascinating it is.
Rinse. Repeat.
A strange waltz.

Sometimes what He shows me can’t stay just between us.
That’s where my waltz with Him becomes something for others to see: I write.
Like a drink offering, I pour it out.
I take what He gives, birth it out, and share it.

If I try to keep the stories for myself, they burn my chest.
They roil in my stomach.
They churn in my mind.
I can almost see them.
Almost touch them.

I’ve learned, though, if I will listen to God’s leading and
put it into something I can share, He will allow me to feel the relief of the after-birth.
The peace of creative-pushes being complete.
The wonder of watching other people draw near and experience Him.

His pleasure is in us doing this “together,” and we are.

Yes, my passion is telling the stories God has given me to tell.



See Forever

Seeing forever would be either wonderful or dreadful.

The Bible teaches I’m an eternal being, and faith in Jesus Christ as the Son of God (the Great Creator) means I will see life beyond what a normal life will afford.

I think if this current world was it, sans people, I could be contented with that. It’d be wonderful. The Great Creator has made a beautiful creation, and I love looking deeply at something until delight in it and Him overwhelms me.

But that’s not the loving Creator says will happen: the current earth is going to pass away.

So will the enemy of our souls (yay, good!) and so will the current way things are (yipee!)

That means I’ll have new things to discover in eternity. New things to discover about the Creator. New things to love and delight over in His Kingdom (Nation? World? Dimension? Not sure what word will fit.)

Yep. Wonderful.

Evil from the enemy and evil from people hurts all of Creation. When I snapped the above picture, I felt like everything was perfect in that moment.

Then I lowered the iPhone and turned around and saw all the people. Oh snap.

Not so wonderful.

If I were to live for eternity on a planet with people who are all and each looking out for themselves… That’d be bad. Awful. Dreadful.

God has a plan for that, too, obviously as outlined in the Bible. Love and light will reign through Him, through King Jesus.

Why? Because God loves people. And why shouldn’t He? He created them.

I want to delight in people like I delighted in that sunset moment. To see people as beautiful. To love them like God does.

Maybe if I could see forever now, loving people would be easier…

I’d not see people based on their actions for the span of my memory, but I’d see them as eternal beings.

Then, maybe then, I’d try to love as many of them as I could into His Kingdom. Introduce as many of them as I can to Jesus (Who is such a neat Person!)

Yes, I will see forever one day.

But for now, I’m going to dwell on this, and keep asking Jesus to help me see like He does.



Orchid Photos

Today a friend and I ate together at a luxury grocer cafe. Catching up proved lovely. Then we moved on to shopping.

We bought Rosemary ham from the deli (thin sandwich slices), ogled the baked goods and homemade marshmallows, browsed exotic honey, and smelled 14 specialty bath bombs. Insert huge thank-you to my similarly-bath-loving friend for purchasing the pink bath bomb for me—I can’t wait to use it!

She found kitchen towels that were on sale. I resisted the urge to buy three orchids. Resisted with all my might.

However, I whipped out my camera and had a few moments in the narrow walkway.

The orchids were gorgeous, and I had to stop and stare.

Please enjoy!

Gratitude Series 02

The focus of this Gratitude Series is simple. I’m turning gratefulness and thankfulness over in my mind and heart, seeing what shakes loose. If you start a Gratitude Series, please let me know on my Facebook Author Page so I can visit it. Carry on.

Today, I am reminiscing friends. Realizing how grateful I am for buddies.

To all those who are close to me and see me for who I am and love me just as:
I’m so thankful for each of you. I’m even thankful for how we grate on each other. 🙂

For each of you who have been with me for over two years, extra special thanks for your patience with my apparent inability to listen well: you taught me to shut my mouth and drink you in.

My world is so much better for it.

Thank you.

Friend, I Listen

Come close
Enter this quiet abode
Kneel on this mat with me
Let me make you green tea

Breathe deep
Let me hear and let me stir
Dissolve the facade free
Our eyes delicately see

Speak all
Empty your heart so I hear
Cry and sip and swallow
Pain poured out makes us hollow

Right here
I listen to what you say
The galaxy of you
I dare not disturb the view

Like tea
I give because you matter
I shan’t hurry us on
Even if we sit ’til dawn

And smile
For tea doesn’t stain hearts
It is okay to spill
Be with me and please be real

Come close
Enter this quiet abode
Kneel on this mat with me
Let me make you green tea

by Keviana Elliot 3/26/19


Gratitude Series 01

The focus of this Gratitude Series is simple. I’m turning gratefulness and thankfulness over in my mind and heart, seeing what shakes loose. If you start a Gratitude Series, please let me know on my Facebook Author Page so I can visit it. Carry on.


Steps plodded into unwavering gratitude start with the realization of a 30,000-ft view.

A flyover.

Stare down into the tiny dots that make up memories and backstory and see what’s there.

If I were a commercial airliner, soaring over my life, what would the terrain be made of?

Black dirt. Green trees. White snow. A little further on, endless blue oceans and island-dots. Then finally, land filled with flowers and endless miles of flowering trees. (I think they’re cherry and plum trees… But it’s hard to tell from up here.)

Let’s divide it up.

black dirt.

The nitty-gritty on my life story.

The pain.
The sorrow.
The hard.
The stuff I wish each flood of rain would wash away.

Can I be truly grateful for all of it? #unsure

green trees.


The places God was gracious to grow it in me.

Through parenting poured out on me by my Mother and Father, and expounded in me through my Heavenly Pappa.

white snow.

Where I started.

With nothing.

Getting to choose nothing.

My life, placed in the hands of others at my birth, innocent brown eyes taking everything in as I aged into a girl.

endless blue oceans.

Chased by the fathomless, ravishing love of my Creator.
Wooed by His worlds.
Drowned by His goodness.
Wowed by Him. Wowed by Jesus/Yeshua. Wowed by what He shares with me.


Worlds for He and I to uncover, discover, and form.

Working together. This is what’s mine to steward under His supervision.

land of flowers and flowering trees.

Blessings I didn’t work for.

Gifts I don’t deserve.

Delightful beauty that is given to me to watch, touch, play in.


This is the overview.
This is where I start.