YESTERDAY'S POST WAS RE-WRITTEN ...

What more need I say, today?
Nada —

TODAY’S FLASH OF INSIGHT IGNITES D AND G TO BLAST A BOULDER THROUGH MY WALL OF DENIAL

Ever since awakening this morning
These words keep running through my mind:
“Absolute power corrupts absolutely” until ...
And that’s all my power of intuition was
Willing to release into my conscious awareness until
This next incomplete insight filtered out of
Subconscious memory, as though teasing
My inquisitive nature to arouse my intelligence to
Wonder if my mission, over this fourth quadrant of
My life, will be to gain and sustain a reorganized sense of
Mental control over the unruly nature of
My processor’s inner life by firing the task master, who
Beginning with my third birthday, has been known to
Creep around, haunting the darkest shadows of my mind, remaining
Vaguely but not clearly named until this very moment when
Clarity, bursting through this morning’s hazy stream of
Incomplete insights, is shining its spotlight directly upon
The culprit, who has grown to be my inner well being’s greatest foe
Because the ghost-like-presence of this fire-breathing dragon has
Continued to rise from the dead, re-igniting yesteryear’s
Traumatizing experiences to melt my strength of spirit into
A hot mess when I least expect the deep seated presence of
Repressed fury to arise, anew, out of the angst-driven portion of
Subconscious memory, as though casting an evil spell over
My cheerful nature so that rather than feeling yesteryear's unresolved
Fury welling up and gushing out, my think tank is, once again
Hijacked back to that fledgling time in my life when
The specter of sudden death darkened my little corner of
The world twice in a matter of weeks, capturing the adoring smiles of
Every one of my caregivers behind masks of quietly cocooned
Depression (born of their deeply confounded, repressed reactions of
Fury), which weighed so heavy on their spirits as to have crushed
Mine at a time when my three year old mind was too young to organize
Words into sentences so as to express my terrified flood of
Complex emotions with anything that came close to resembling
Clarity of thought, and thus did the weight of months of spiritually depressed
Deeply repressed, fearsome fury compress into a boulder, locked within
Subconscious memory, offering the adult, whom that child had chosen to
Grow up to be, no conscious clue of my need to seek a key to unlock
My subconscious in hopes of freeing a good little girl as well as
Good grown up me of undeserved guilt, which, having remained in
An unidentified state of 'being', had shaped up into PTSD, triggered to
Erupt with such a punch as to be empowered to knock out my spirit, which
Spirals straight down hill, hitting bottom as fast as a rainbow colored kite, flying
High through the bright blue sky, finds itself harshly yanked down each time
Its invisible string snares on a branch of a staunchly rooted tree, whose trunk is
The only thing left standing as icy gusts of wind whip branches, twigs and
Foliage, this way and that, during each torrential cloudburst, which proves
Indigenous to the climate throughout the Midwest where lightening bolts
Flashing down from on high during thunderous downpours, split
Tall strong trees in half from the tips of their umbrella-like crowns
Straight down into firmly rooted trunks whenever the malevolent side of
Mother Nature, which is also responsible for indiscriminately blindsiding
The mental development of healthy children, can be seen hurtling
A young person's budding strength of spirit, which serves as the life force of
Every living thing, to crash just as unexpectedly as that proverbial kite, leaving
The subconscious awareness of every person who's ever lived to be vulnerable to
Feeling thin skinned, now and again, based in the fact that no person escapes
Childhood utterly unscathed from suffering at least one heartsick rupture of
Such grave proportions as to have felt anxiety spike at the mere thought of
Mother Nature’s number one henchman, who goes by the name of
Fate, paying their family a visit with lightening bolt in hand, and as
That lightening bolt electrified my self-worth half to death, multiple times, ‘tis'
My good fortune to note that Lady Luck casts her smile in my direction, more
Often than not, plucking my battered spirit out of the ashes so as to
Encourage my self defeating tendencies to restrengthen by way of gifting
The young woman, who'd never really been as thin skinned as a kite, with
A trio of perfectly formed, healthy children to love and nurture, each of whom
Re-ignited my inquisitive nature to sense an intuitive need to encourage
Each of these wholly individual, unique, inexperienced minds to
Absorb a positively charged philosophy of life while advancing toward
Adulthood by holding hands with a life coach, whose intuitive voice
Spoke up ever more clearly with each passing year in hopes of encouraging
My menage of bright, strong spirited child to grow ever more
Consciously aware of adopting an attitude of brainstorming through
Life's trying ordeals by way of opening our minds to consider all aspects of
A problem or conflict from every angle, together, knowing that two brains
Operating on the same wavelength tend to ascend to a heightened plane of
Conscious comprehension, elevating the human processor's potential to
Inject a person's current level of self esteem with a well balanced sense of
Self worth, based in the accumulative absorption of deeper truths, and
As it turns out, the intuitive nature of that insight driven plan served to
Strengthen more than the self esteem of my sons as each one continued to
Amass such a plethora of successful experiences as to withstand winter's iciest
Wind storms much more staunchly than had been true of me at
Their tender age, and as one success led to another, my original plan to
Teach grade school children to enjoy the learning process led to my
Raising the stakes, when the children I was leading were my own, and
While my sensitivity to creativity encouraged my sons to adopt
Success-oriented, thought processing patterns, which have continued to
Develop throughout each stage of their lives—here is the welcomed
By-product of my intuitive plan:  My power of intuitive thought continued to
Blossom until, one day,  my smarts saw fit to adopt the very same positively charged
Pattern of processing that creativity developed to enhance the lives of
My sons for myself, and thus have you just received a highly condensed sample of
The back story of the woman, who, to this very day, feels inspired to write for
Hours upon hour in hopes of expanding my understanding of what caused
A small, terrified blindsided child to stumble upon her chosen life's path, which
Breathed life into the adult whom I've chosen to morph into when, in addition
To raising my sons, I accepted a teaching position at the college in hopes of
Leading parents and teachers (and thus, thousands of children I'd never met) out of
The darkness and toward the inner light of self empowerment, based in
The power of one (mind) that refuses to detour away from its deeply determined
Personal quest to seek out knowledge in hopes of resolving conflicts, such as
Those that surfaced within my marriage once the second quadrant of
My life evolved toward the third in the same manner as the third quadrant has
Continued to evolve toward this fourth stage of my life cycle, which sees me
Seeking to gain self empowering knowledge, concerning my need to expand
My processor’s capacity to regain and maintain a well balanced sense of
Self-control over the decision-making portion of my processor in hopes of
Strengthening my ability to continue to age as gracefully as
Reflection suggests was true during the twenty five years that disappeared as
Though within the blink of an eye, which, upon looking back at
Three fully energized tykes, grown to assume the roles of three caring
Responsible, fun-loving men, and now that the time has come for me to
Pass the baton of this Pied Piper tradition on to each of them, I feel need to
Continue to welcome personal growth spurts, some of which feel as painful as
Had proved true twenty-five years ago when my anguished decision to defy
Societal boundaries (imposed upon good wives and mothers for eons) experienced
Sound reason to strengthen my spirit's weakened connection to free will before
My think tank found the impossibility of moving out of our home—possible and
Then probable and then a done deal to save my waining sense of sanity—decades
Before that desperate act of spiritual self preservation had become popularized by
The younger generation, who'd had the good fortune to pursue
Women’s studies, which had been a welcome addition to
College curriculum choices years after I'd earned my degree—on the other hand
(As is classically true of those whose thought processes prove avant guard)
Though my choice to move into an apartment (close to home) sans societal support
Served to severe my mental connection to a wholesome, well balanced sense of
Good health as inner conflict set my processor reeling with the eruption of
Complex emotions that engulfed my sense of clarity within a maze fraught
With undeserved guilt, which scared my spirit's fledgling connection to courage
Half to death, t'was also my intuitive choice to separate from most of
My flock of friends until, with the passage of several years, my intuitive nose grew
(Unlike Pinocchio's)  ever more sensitive to sniffing out deeper truths such as
This next one proves to be:
Upon reflection, my intuitive consciousness heightened awareness accepted
The fact that most of those who’d made up my social circle of friends proved
To be frenemies, all along, and though that self-empowering burst of
Clarity hurt to the quick, repeated run ins, offering my ears words sharp with
Icy stabs of passive-aggressive misjudgment, which having slashed
Painfully away at another level of my defense system’s wall of denial, freed
My smarting intelligence to stop sweating over my refusal to bow my head-
Held-high and resume the 'good girl' role that I'd out grown, so rather than
Re-conjoining with friends, whose company I'd thought to have missed
My heightening sense of conscious awareness began to conjoin, ever more
Naturally, with my existential desire to experience life as a healed whole, and
That insight-driven thought offered me the clarity to see my choice of
Friends as making up a pack of scaredy-cats with whom I no longer fit, because
It was so plain to see that just as is true of birds of a feather, those whose
Thought patterns and comfort levels remained stuck in the box, continued to
Feel need to fall into line, playing polite society's judgmental games while
I favored freeing one human being, namely me, of feeling saddled with
Emotional constraints which had weighed heavy on my sense of free will over
Many years in which fear of being left by the pack to fend for myself had
Kept my free will muted, locked up so deeply inside as to have silenced
My as yet undeveloped voice of intuition from piping up with even
One frickin' clue of my desperate need to quest for the missing key
To untether my spirit's free will from my roots at least enough to freely
Wing it on my own, though my sense of personal safety grappled with bouts of
Self inflicted, undeserved guilt that clipped (but never severed)
The expanse of my high flying spirit’s wingspan until such time as
I came to see the human spirit as being every bit as self-regenerative as is
True of the liver, which functions to rid the body of waste that would
Otherwise prove as toxic to a person’s good health as episodes of
PTSD prove toxic to my reorganized sense of mental wellbeing, so
It's no wonder why each growth spurt that my intuitive nature is
Determined to achieve by way of working conscientiously toward
Releasing repressed emotional pain in hopes of proactively minimizing
The weight of the boulder, which catapults out of my depths to
Crush my spirit each time any aspect of a current event blindsides
My processor’s smarts, wrestling the strength of my spirit’s
Conscious connection to positively charged energy to the mat as
The tag team known as Doom and Gloom  (also known as
Evil and Death) usurps control over my think tank, casting
An evil spell on my connection to free will, yet again ...
BTW, if I’ve only named one aspect of the quintet that ignited
Doom and Gloom’s most recent resurrection to arise from
The dead and burst through my wall of denial, right before
Thanksgiving then let’s hope that the content of today’s
Insight-driven, intuitive train of thought may inspire
My restrengthening connection to positively charged free will to
Light the match that fires up my sense of readiness to refuel
My think tank’s need to continue to unwind the cocoon in which
My most recent need to stop climbing up hill and just ‘chill’ had
Separated my spirit from its main source of energy, namely
The positively focused frame of mind that must consciously
Conspire with the further development of inner strengths (in similar
Fashion that lifting followed by setting down weights encourage
Muscles to strengthen in the gym), in hopes of
Maintaining my younger than springtime philosophy of life as
Birthdays continue to sweep in more quickly than I can believe
And as my strong willed sense of creativity is poised to publish
This post without taking the time to clarify whether or not today’s
Stream of consciousness makes sense, you can expect to
Find the complex nature of today’s thoughts challenging
My think tank and yours to simplify mind boggling complexity in
Hopes of creating changes for the better that will ultimately
Improve the lives of everyone in your family and mine
Why?  Well, for starters, publishing before editing exemplifies
That which has come to be my natural pattern of thought processing
Illustrating exactly what takes place naturally inside my head, just as
It’s been my pattern (and yours) to celebrate another birthday each and
Every year, suggesting that with the aging process, I continue to
'Look' into myself in relation to life as differently inside as
I look on the outside, and as I believe in self empowering new beginnings
This weekend portends to offer up the precise time for my spirit to
Raise a toast to this most recent, positively fueled ruckus that's
Rearranging itself inside my noggin in hopes of feeling my well developed
Inner strengths amassing the courage required to lift that boulder of
D and G over my head and smash it to smithereens!
I hope!
Tha last line is not Doubting Thomas lifting his head but
Rather my intuitive voice piping in with thoughts of
Stowing dollops of humility on board in hopes of being
More likely to remember to steer my ship toward
Shore before it's time to pack up our duds to drive toward
The west coast to party with loved ones who live too far to have
Celebrated with loved ones who dwell close enough to have
Helped Ravi and me blow out my birthday candles, after
Ten of us enjoyed dinner delivered to our home, last night, after
Will and I had accompanied Ravi outside to take
Her dolly for a sunny stroll before we lifted our growing bundle of joy into
Her carseat so as to drive her precious self to have
Her bangs cut, and lo and behold if she didn’t nod off in the car and
Remain sound asleep right through her princess haircut and
Then throughout the short ride back to Gramma’s and Papa’s
House, where she napped on our bed for another hour before
Awakening to search through the house for me in order to ask:
Is it time for my party?  Because three year old Ravi felt utterly
Certain that we were about to celebrate her third birthday, again
And when she looked up at me, all wide-eyed and innocent, so as to
Have clued me in to knowing myself lost under the spell cast
By her guileless, blue-eyes even before the sweetest voice you could
Ever imagine asked:  Is the bouncy house almost here?
When I drew her within my embrace and laughingly explained that
Grown ups are too big for bouncy houses, Ravi, who knew that as
A fact, began to get my drift, and as reality set in, she look me by
The hand, led me into the kitchen, and offered up another reason to
Feel my spirit bouncing back and forth with mirth:  Pointing to
The chocolate frosted birthday cake decorated with yellow roses as is
Our custom, I listened rapt to my grand daughter's imaginative mind release
This idea:  Gramma Annie, what if we eat up the whole happy cake, right now
And when people come they will say—WHAT!  No cake for me?
And then they’ll go home, and we can play Lion Guard!
I laughed so hard that our little monkey face repeated her
Soliloquy almost verbatim before running into the living room
Where she delighted in parroting her imaginative plan for her papa (after
I'd suggested that she clue him in), only this time, her precocious nature
'Got' the humor down pat, catalyzing her laughter to pour out, matching
Ours, and when, at last, it was time for family and friends to arrive with
Gifts in hand, our little minx, bright as a fairy whose magic shone
Naturally forth from within the charismatic spell her spirit was empowered to
Cast upon all who so much as glanced into her sparkling, sunlit eyes
Ravi promptly divested our loved ones of gaily wrapped gifts, which
She hand delivered to me, acquiescing cheerfully to the fact that
Indeed, it was Gramma's birthday, and she was fine with the presents being
Mine as long as I'd conferred upon Ravi the title of Official Opener, whom
Upon completing the exciting task of ripping paper from boxes
Smiled widely while presenting each offering, happily, to me
And if you’d like to know what effect each of these delightful
Experiences had on my sagging spirit throughout the day, I’ll answer by
Describing what happens while my processor perches on
Two conflicting planes, at once:
(Think one foot on shore with the other in a row boat, drifting out to sea)
While engaged with Ravi’s precious antics, at which time
My well practiced intuitive skills observed the intuitive awareness of
My three year old grand daughter's bright young mind expansively
And genially absorb the fact that the birthdays of others can be
Enjoyed though no bouncy house appears and grown ups' gifts
Are not toys, and having grown to know me as I hope you do by
Now, I'll bet you can easily imagine how deeply pleasured
My cognitive recognition of Ravi's current growth spurt, regarding
The natural expansion of her cognitive awareness, felt, serving to shrink
The size of the negatively charged boulder that has stubbornly refused to
Stop crushing my spirit over these past two weeks, in fact
I'd actually endured an increase in pressure due to added worry over
The fact that Celina had been experiencing ;her monthly; pain, cramping
For days, and as her pain continued to worsen, day after day, Steven
Called us to pick up Ravi on Thursday, freeing him to flee from
His law office and high tail it home to drive Celina to the ER, and
Needless to say, Will and I had also helped out by taking care of
Ravi earlier during this difficult week, as well, so when Steven relayed
The fact, late Thursday evening, that two liters of urine had begun to
Gush forth from Celina’s bladder, after which her pain spontaneously
Diminished significantly, I felt concerned upon hearing that rather than
Admitting Celina to the hospital, she was being sent home, sometime
After midnight, sporting a catheter with instructions in hand to see
A urologist on Monday, suggesting that we can add my anger at
Modern medicine protocol to my angst until, as it turns out
She and Steven felt like joining us for dinner and happy cake, last night
Though I’d reassured them, repeatedly, of my desire to take good care of
Their need for rest after such a mutually agitating ordeal, which had
Produced close to a week of worry, so as you can see
Much of my down time (?) had been spent wriggling in and out of
My intuitive need to cocoon, because no matter how inventive
My think tank proves to be, my processor has not yet figured out
How to invite my active grand daughter to snuggle quietly with me unless
Her shining blue eyes are naturally glazing over with weariness at
Nap time's approach, leaving your friend Annie's need to cocoon
Dangling, midair, day after day, while Ravi's doting Gramma managed to
Change hats in order to call upon my spirit to warm up my positively charged
Energy field at least enough to interact with the magnetic nature of
A three year old's energy field, and now you know why my conscious mind felt
Suspended between two dimensions over these past six days—on the other hand
Both Steven and I knew to reassure Ravi that though her mama and Gramma had
Need of rest and quiet, the non-stop antics of our energizer bunny continued to
Share an endless supply giggles and smiles with everyone at Gramma's house, and
I was surprised to find that when a dizzying sensation catalyzed my need to
Lie down, Ravi complied by playing solo on the floor at the foot of my bed with her
Lion-King-Lion Guard action figures for up to two hours while I'd listen to
Her adorable voice inflections acting out every emotion embodied within
Both films before she'd gingerly approach my bed with tilted head, lips wearing
A smile, asking sweet as sweet can be:
Gramma, are you ready to play Lion King (or Lion Guard) with me, now?
I mean, seriously—Who could say no?  And though Will took his turn taking on
The double role of Uncle Scar and the pack of hyenas, Ravi could intuit which
One of her grandparents played with Uncle Scar in one hand and the pack of
Hyenas in the other, wholeheartedly, vs. which of us had cheerfully
Assumed the role of Gramma's understudy until the call of football signaled
The end of halftime, leaving our grand daughter to assume all of the roles on
Her own, meaning that I'd witness Simba’s spirit (which had deflated upon
Losing heart to the traitorous nature of his Uncle Scar, who blamed
The small, guilt ridden cub to believe that he'd been so bad as to have
Caused his adored father's death, and at this point in the film (which
We've watched a minimum of twenty times—suggesting why
Ravi acts out every part as would an experienced thespian) we see
The woebegone, broken spirit of a lost, guilt-ridden lion cub wandering
Away on his own feeling crushed until such time as he finds
Supportive friends, who help him to grow up to claim her—uh—whoops—
I mean his self empowered role of adult leadership, by way of shrinking
His worries down to size just as Dorothy's friends had encouraged
Each other, while skipping down the yellow brick road, to shrink
Their fears of Lions and tigers and bears—Oh my!
As for me, I’ve benefited from gleaning wisdom during sessions of
Therapy as well as from absorbing insight-driven stories, penned by
Authors, both classic and modern day, such as the novels devoured
This week, in which prides of lions roaring and matriarchal elephants
Trumpeting in alarm of predators closing in on their young, offered
My think tank classic truths, highlighting the nature of self healing that
Proves necessary throughout every facet of the animal kingdom, and if
While highlighting and digesting passages, which speak expressly to my
Present needs, my conscious mind can also be seen drinking in
Deeper truths that ride out of subconscious storage on positively focused
Strings of interwoven insights, which, over time, have been re-igniting
My sagging spirit to arise, then we can imagine me rising to
My full height, beating my chest as would a beast in the jungle so as to
Downsize and oil up the small child’s wordless boulder of terrified angst, which
I've lugged from stage to stage, over my entire life, until, with every eruptive
Episode of PTSD, that boulder continues to shrink, until, one day
I'm certain it will feel no bigger than a bouncing ball, small enough to
Slip out of my subconscious muscle-tensing memory bank so as to roll
Straight through my (now) opened door in my defense system’s
Wall of denial, and, finally, upon shrinking to the size of a marble, no longer
Lodged inside my throat—out of my mouth it will pop—freeing
My self-empowering voice to release a Woo-Hoo that feels
Wholly peacefully, once and for all!  Wow!
I wonder if I've spent the day penning the prequel to The Princess and the Pea!

Holy smokes—just glanced at the clock—I’ve been writing for
Seven hours straight—It's 3PM, high time to
Throw open the drapes, smile at what's left of the sun, and being that
Yesterday saw the dawning of the 74th year of my life and being that
Life is short, I don’t have a moment to lose, concerning my need to
Re-ignite my inside-connection to joy ... and if my blog was a book
The next words would most likely be—THE END
Good thing this is a blog, which is as alive with spirit as
I plan to be once my searchful mind rests up, suggesting that you can
Expect me to reappear on your screen for as long as
Your intuitive spirit chooses to commune with mine, and
Now, having cleared my mind of quite a head full of angst, today
I’m about to push publish without reviewing, so to those of you who
Have chosen to bear down with me without giving up on my smarts no matter
How often the winding tracks of today's train of thought may have dizzied
Your brain, I'll refrain from saying any more than Hakuna Matata—
My hat's off to you—Bravo!

MY SPIRIT AWOKE ANXIOUS UNTIL IT FELT FREE TO ROAR!

Something very bad happened to me when I was a child
A person who won my love hurt me deeply
So horrifically that my defense system
Submerged every sensation of everything he did to
Hurt me so deep into subconscious memory that that’s where
The mental anguish I’ve carried forward remained lodged until
Recent years when any aspect of a current event that feels
Similar in any way to those terrifying moments triggers
My brain chemistry to resurrect resistant reactions that
Feel so dauntingly confounding and hauntingly terrifying as
If a ghost-like presence has swept my peaceful perception of
Personal safety into the fourth dimension, where
My sense of clarity feels so shaken back in time as to frighten
My strength of spirit to submit, once again, to the terrors
Experienced during my youth as if the specter of evil
Flies in from out of the blue to drag me down into the fires of
Yesteryear's personal hell where a foggy sense of guilt-ridden
Damnation attacks my self worth until I, reminding myself of
PTSD, feel need to seek out a safe haven in which to
Spin myself into a cocoon and calm my mind until such time as
My intuitive voice emerges on a flash of insight that
Challenges the conscious portion of my processor to
Muster the courage and patience, yet again, to tolerate
This most recent mind baffling eruption of latent anxiety, which
Heightens toward spiking, rendering my processor's
Well balanced connection to reality to feel so distorted that
My conscious awareness, feeling squeezed between
A rock and a hard place, attempts to swim upstream through
Emotionally charged quicksand so thick as to muddy up
The fact that, once again, my think tank and soul are wrestling
With an attack of inner conflict, pitting good against evil, and
This struggle for dominance between angst and inner peace
Continues until my well-developed inner strengths converge,
Cracking open the door in my wall of denial (behind which
Unidentified memories, pulsing with negatively charged energy
Torment today’s peace of mind with yesteryear’s unresolved
Distress) severing today’s conscious awareness from reality so as
To suck my processor wholly and blindly into my brain’s
Subterranean dungeon, which pulses with bulges of
Subconscious torment, where I grapple to regain
My lost sense of clarity for days and nights, sometimes for
Weeks, until yet another gruesome aspect of
Those horrifying, mystifying emotional reactions, which
Proved far too complex for the inexperienced, overwhelmed
Undeveloped think tank of an innocent child to process, cough up
The next missing detail or repressed emotional reaction or
Traumatic fear, at which time the adult I’ve conscientiously chosen
To grow to be senses a jumble of feelings, both furious and
Frightful rumbling up toward conscious awareness just before
An intuitive storm of well organized words gushes out of
My depths forming a geyser of insight-driven thoughts, which
Literally propels my self respecting spirit to stand up as
My body kneels down and my outstretched arm dives under
My bed, making a grab for the hitting stick (pool noodle), kept
Close by in readiness to soundly whack away at
My lifelong need to release this newest eruption of
Negatively charged energy, which has wracked my muscles and
Brain with inner tension in need of comprehensive relief whenever
An episode of PTSD is triggered to overwhelm
My personal sense of safety, and then, upon standing tall with
Noodle in hand, I can be seen assuming a fighter’s stance at
The foot of my bed where my self respect starts
Whacking away at (without damaging a thread of)
The beautiful quilt, covering my sheeted mattress with
All of my might as the depth of the terrorized plight of
The vulnerable child's gut wrenching wails can be heard
Bouncing off every wall in the room (after I've taken
Precautionary measures to forewarn anyone
Who happens to be home that I can feel another layer of
My wall of denial cracking) and in this way do the horrors of
Yesteryear, which have stuck to me like glue continue to
Emerge from within the darkest pockets of
My brain's subconscious hiding place, and as Ellie happens to
Be with me, today, she holds me as close to her heart as
A mother would a deeply injured, broken hearted child until
I feel a shift in my energy field as though the next layer of
My wall of denial has just dissipated into thin air, and replacing
The weepiness of a frightened child's broken sense of
Emotional reactiveness, somehow I feel
My spirit rear up like a wild elephant in protection of
Her calf as though a predator, closing in, has
Marked my baby, playing innocently just beyond
The matriarch's reach—as lunch, and as if 110% of
My hyper vigilant awareness focuses upon stranger danger
Creeping up in readiness to pounce on my inner child
The adult portion of my mind wraps my trunk around
A tree, which upon uprooting, I chase off the hungry
Call of the wild, which, unbeknownst to my conscious
Awareness has savagely, audaciously and repeatedly
Threatened to unseat the balanced state of my mental health
Over most of my life, and with hitting stick in hand
My spirit can be seen following intuition’s direction to
Power up and swing my left arm high above my head as
Fury. finally releasing, thwacks straight through
The electric current of inner tension, that’s palpably
Crackling through the air as the the ghost of a bewildered
Lonely, good little girl lands explosive blasts of full blown
Fury upon the mattress, as though each solid strike is meant to
Keep time with every direct, heavy handed word that
This voiceless child had felt too choked by trauma to
Whisper much less scream aloud until, today, when both sides of
My whole rose up, conjoined, and listened to my strength of spirit roar:

You hurt me!
You hurt me, again and again!
I was terrified and you didn’t care at all!
I hate you!
I did not deserve what you did to me, repeatedly!
I was not a bad girl, and I’m not a bad person!
You were evil—you sick damaged pedophile!
I've paid for your crime my whole life and I’m done!
I am a good person!
I deserve not to hurt deep inside that dungeon, anymore!
I deserve to feel happy, through and through!
I need to feel wholly happy!
Not scared half to death deep inside my head!
Just happy, not anxiously conflicted with need for
That wall of denial to damn up oceans of
Fear rising like raging rapids threatening to
Some day swallow my hold on sanity if
The emotional anguish that overwhelms
My intelligence doesn’t stop trickling into
Rushing rivers of latent pain that confound and
Sever my intellect’s connection to clarity until
My disconnect from today’s reality alerts
My intuitive voice to power up and ride out of
The dark side of my mind on flash of insight, which
Serving as my light saber, brightens
My conscious awareness to heighten with
Each painful growth spurt that I've worked
Determinedly to achieve during sessions of
EMDR therapy in which I rewire
My existential, innate need to feel happy and
Peaceful and joyful and
Lovable and worthwhile whether I can be of help to
Others or not—I need to feel grateful for empowering
My processor with the ability to reach in and
Get rid of you and your evil, bullying
Ghost-like presence, which continues to upend
My sense of inner peace, and I plan to accomplish
That mental change for the better while I'm still alive!
I'm sick of the triggers that repeatedly breathe life into
Yesteryear's fear, though I know that you can't
Hurt me, again—I've worked courageously and patiently to
Develop the inner strengths to exercise free will and
I will myself to break the bonds of fear of evil, which
Have stalked good hearted men, women and children
Throughout this dangerous world of ours ever since
The beginning of time—
I will the wholesome sense of my spirit's self-empowered
Preservation to exorcize the shadow of
Your sickness out from under my skin—Forever!

And while this soliloquy poured out of my soul
Ellie—who, over these past thirty-six years has come to
Know me better than most and whose mothering presence
Had held me close to her heart, today, while
I'd wept as though wrenching sobs could wash
Latent pain from muscles, tensed to fend off
The hail storm of misjudgments, which had pelted
My sense of well-being in the past by those who'd
Failed to fathom need to quest to answer why, over
The years of my childhood my skin was
Scratched raw, night after night (Annie's always been
Too sensitive), only to find the unbearable nature of
That tell tale itch worsening while dating during
Adolescence, until such time as I'd become
A beginner adult when my abuser could
No longer separate the calf from the herd—and while
I was seen adopting a fighter's stance in the ring, here
Stood Ellie, alongside me on the other side of
The ropes, coaching me on with:
Hit him harder!  Keep it up!  Picture him in Hell!

So, I did.
Holler while hitting him harder until I was spent.
And though I'm relieved that he's dead
I have to admit feeling unable to condemn my abuser to hell
For this reason:  I know he, too, was abused as a child ...

Several factors triggered this most recent episode of
PTSD to erupt just before Thanksgiving—some of which
Prove highly personal, others societal—as to
The societal factors, not a day has passed without
Scandalous sexual behaviors hitting the news (which
I cannot watch but details, here and there, have
Assaulted my ears with dribs and drabs of
Disastrous acts perpetrated upon women and children by
Parents, teachers, politicians, movie moguls, and
Businessmen, who have felt empowered to devour
The healthy well-being of those who prove
Vulnerable to the voracious appetites inherent in
The bullying bestial side of human nature, such as is
True of Donald Trump, who pretends to be
The leader of the FREE (?) world—leaving
My renewed reconnection to heartfelt sanity asking—
Where is the herd of elephants, whose outrage will
Trumpet so furiously as to drive this leader of
Power-hungry predators out of
The White House, tarred, feathered and tied to
The back of a donkey, which, rather than braying
Demands solidarity of all of those whose actions have
Not yet succumbed to freeing the bestial side of
Their minds to power up, so as to join forces with
Those of the opposing political party, who demonstrate
The courage and humility necessary to
Sweep our governing bodies clean of the immoral
Corruption that has crippled the high principled nature of
Our Declaration of Independence and Constitution in
Time to save The Lady in the Harbor from falling to
Her knees, symbolizing the greater portion (I hope) of
The voting populous pleading for liberation from
The hypocrisy of a political hierarchy bent upon
Serving only their own selfish needs, as has plainly
Come to our attention—as to the highly personal
Factors that triggered this two week episode of
Unnamed, outraged, emotional inner tension that
Grew so great as to arouse latent fear to erupt so
Powerfully as to temporarily flood my processor's
Connection to clarity with anxiety, yet again—Well
That insight driven reveal is still awaiting readiness to
Be expressed for public consumption though
A quartet of puzzle pieces rode out of my mouth after
Hitching a ride on my self-empowering intuitive voice on
The Sunday following Thanksgiving after my belabored
Football team, teeming with injuries sitting on the sidelines
Managed to pull off a victorious win that very few
Sportscasters or die-hard fans expected to happen, symbolizing
This fact:  The game of life is not over at third quarter's end

AND SO, HAS IT EMERGED, AT LAST? THE MISSING PIECE TO INNER PEACE

It is not enough to fortify inner strengths as I continue to age
My change in attitude must do more than
Embrace joy that has been offered to me in
A heartfelt manner, like a banquet served upon a silver platter
If I know that joy is an inside job then
Any change for the better in my attitude must focus upon
Sustaining a soulful sense of joy from deep within my heart by
Coaching myself to fully embrace this late stage of life in
A whole new way:  In short, I need to embrace every day of
Good health as reason to celebrate my existence by
Reminding myself that many lives are not as enriched as
Proves true of mine, which has, thus far, offered me
The good fortune of engaging healthily with advacing age while
My spirit is buoyed on the wings of treasured friends and
Familial love, and now that my spirit guide’s intuitive voice has
Spotlighted the mental challenge that today's string of insights has
Just served up to my intelligence, my conscious awareness has
Come to see the missing piece that my sense of wholeness has been
Seeking during these confounding weeks of mental transition, which
By no means offered my conscious mind so much as a glimpse of
The safe haven of the shoreline upon which inner peace has been
Playing hide and seek with my think tank for months
So, thankfully, now that today’s string of insights has finally (and simply)
Spotlighted, clarified and named this positively focused
Change for the better (namely need to inject my daily attitude with
Joy by creating surprises for others, a specialty of mine), which
Has been brewing ever since last summer when our very sad loss of
Will’s brother (the third in a series of family losses) alerted
My connection to common sense to steady my readiness to
Address how best to react to losses that are bound to increase in
Number, my emotional intelligence has hopefully opened
A new door within the positively focused portion of
My thought processor, which houses my creative center's
Proclivity toward proactivity, which has eagerly awaited
The arrival of my conscious awareness so as to restoke
My spirit with childlike joy, which freely evokes the same degree of
Inquisitive eagerness to enjoy new experiences by embracing
The open-minded attitudes with which Tony, Ray and Ravi greet
Each new day of their young lives ... Oh yes—one more thing:
This change that I'm choosing to create within my mind space
Does not mean that grief will not find me and overwhelm
My spirit with sadness;  This change for the better signifies that
Grief will not blind me to joy waiting in the wings to
Freely dance the light fantastic across center stage in the aftermath of
Each grief filled period of time that is sure to challenge
My mind, heart and spirit to accept irretrievable loss, repeatedly ...
BTW, if you missed last night's CBSCarol Burnett Special, please
Seek it out On Demand—Thank goodness, my spirit felt eager to inhale
The timeless comic genius of Carol's brilliant slapstick-pratfall humor, which
Sparked my spirit to laugh aloud for two hours straight—replacing
The cortisol secreted, naturally, before growth spurts, hotwired to spotlight
Inner conflict, based in subconscious discontent, has turned
The corner whereby today's spirit-lifting sense of
Heartfelt pleasure to be alive has, once again, been actualized
"Once someone asked me how old do I really feel
And I said I feel 8, 9, 10 or 11"
     — Carol Burnett at age 84

EMPATHY HAS ITS LIMITS FOR SOUND REASON

Why does my Fixer die so hard?
Because my connection to empathy knows no limits
I breathe in the pain of others as my own, and since
This reaction has been true of my history beginning
At the age of three, you might ask:  What change
Took place, last summer, when this energy field felt
Self empowered from deep within to actually switch tracks from
Empathy toward compassion, and in order to
Answer your query, I’ll offer this insight, spotlighting
The set of experiences that alerted my conscious awareness of
 My need to jump-start a healthy change for the better within
The subconscious portion of my psyche, because
I’ve walked through the door on the historical time line where
The next generation to die is my own, and though that sounds
Morbid, deeper truth deems my awareness proactive, because
Drawing forth empathy for everyone’s loss will surely deplete
My spirit of life sustaining energy, which clarity, knowing
Me, highlights this next insight as a matter of fact:  my reactiveness
Is in need of a hot wired change, beginning not next week, or
Tomorrow but ASAP ... why?  Because life-long patterns, like
Habits, are hard to change in the absence of focused work, and
Despite losses, which will prove very sad for my heart to bear
I’m determined to enjoy this last stage of my life with those I love most

As to the set of recent events that catalyzed my awareness of
The haste with which this change for the better, concerning
My energy field, feels crucial ... memory releases the recent
Demise of my two cousins, both my junior, followed by
Will’s loss of his brother, followed by two friends over
The past couple of weeks, and though I felt my spirit sinking
Here comes the bright light of insight that ignites my hopeful
Awareness of my life-long reactive pattern transitioning
Step by step, through change for the better, over the past year or two:
In each case, I did not feel half dead, as had been true of myself ever since
My baby sister’s death, when my mother could not leave her bed and
Nothing about my existence brought her spirit back to life.
And then, unsbeknown to either of us, Mom and I repeated those roles
Fifteen years ago, in the aftermath of my father’s death until ...
Seven years later, at which time the depths of
My empathetic reactiveness, which felt compelled to cater to
My mother’s every need in hopes of lifting the black veil of
Death’s pain away from my mother’s beautiful face, drained
Every drop of life sustaining energy out of my heart, mind and
Spirit, most especially because she never showed her lifetime of
Repressed anger, of which her defense system denied
Her conscious awareness the insight to acknowledge, and so
The depths of her fury remained unnamed, unresolved, tightly
Sewn into a pocket of her subconscious, the stitches so even as to
Barely free spurts of anger to ooze, wet, red hot and raw, over
Anyone she’d loved, over her entire life (I don’t need therapy) until
A rush of gushing angst would burst through her
Tender-heart’s wall of denial during rare fights behind
Closed doors with immediate family when she’d stand up in
Defense of her self respect to her mother or
My dad or my sister, Lauren, or me, and each of us would
Naturally strike back ... until as an adult, consciously versed in
Mutually respectful conflict resolution, I’d not strike back, and as
My mom was not versed in this area of expertise, she’d had no clue of
Having responded to my rationality with displaced anger that would
Lash out and devour my sense of emotional safety whole
(I’m in the hospital because of you!), just as I’d witnessed
My mother’s mother lash out at her, but by that time
My spirit (and Mom’s) had sunk so low that the energy level that
Fueled my intelligence had burned out, leaving my processor
Nothing to plug into in hopes of connecting the dots that
Made no sense until years later, when I was
ASTUTELY DIAGNOSED WITH PTSD, at which time
My intelligence was gently guided to tap into
The courageous mental energy necessary to quest toward
 Classic answers, based in deeper truths, by engaging with
My power of intuition which has been walking me through
Various stages of my past, so fully determined is my spirit to
Identify and release my own repressed pain in hopes of gaining
Healing strength by way of injecting my processor with strings of
Inter-related insight (rather than mood-changing drugs) concerning
The intricate functionality of the human brain (namely mine),which
Harbors deeper truth next door to hypocrisy, and that piece of
Unsettling knowledge served to hot wire
My intuitive intelligence to my sense of intrigue’s hunger to feed
Classic wisdom to my think tank in hopes of gaining a deepening
Understanding of the confounding nature of the negatively charged
Energy exchange that I’d felt but could not reverse with love, concerning
The slow demise of my treasured friendship with my mother, and
Though I had no conscious awareness of my inner detective’s need to
Connect the dots conjoining the bewildering spiritually
Devastating, mind blowing change in our adult friendship during
The sad years following Dad’s death with
The bewildering natural change in my relationship with
My beloved mother in the traumatic months following
My baby sister’s death, with time, I came to see that
My power of intuition, my spirit guide, had grasped the concept of
Mirroring, and eventually, my spirit guide began to sense
My readiness to grasp one string of .insights after another
Right up to and inclusive of today’s, and once again ...
Repetition proves not redundant when the intuitive retention of
Inner peace requires probing more deeply into
Subconscious memory than ever before ...
And today’s intuitive train of thought leads me to ask
Why do we reference elephants with such frequency, as in:
She has the memory of an elephant ...
It’s time to identify the elephant in the room ...
If you see only the elephant’s tail then you only get
The end of the story as in hal of a story may be
A whole different story than the true tale

I hope today’s Post makes sense to you, because
The complex nature of my current, lengthy intuitive
Train of thought, which has been struggling to unboggle
My conscious state of mind, over many weeks, still feels
Deeply complex to me for this reason:
Though I know very little about the psychology of metaphysics
I do know this: Everything that lives is made up of energy, both
Negatively and positively charged, and having challenged
My intelligence with working toward changing
My internal energy field feels as inconceivable
As imagining myself an astronaut, blasting toward the moon
And you know what they say about blasting toward the moon, right?
Shoot for the moon and you’ll land among the stars ...
So, while my intelligence has focused its spotlight upon retiring the Fixer
Guess who just leaped out onto center stage from her hiding place
In the wings?  My over achiever!  Agh!  Hey!  Shakespeare!
Had no one thunk to tell you that
Much Ado About Nothing Wrong Right Now ought to have been
Penned and lauded as a one act play rather than a trilogy!
Enough already!  Please!  Is it too much to
Ask my mind to function on a plane that’s less taxing for a change!

FIXERS ARE ’PITAS’ AND MUCH MORE ...

Have you read Jodi Picoult?

“You’re a fixer, Grant mused. You’re also a colossal pain in the ass. The thing is, it’s the pains in the ass that change the world.”

“I know what loose ends can do to a soul.  The sooner she knows the truth, whatever it is, the sooner she can get on with her future.”

 “I have studied memory extensively, and the best analogy I’ve found to explain its mechanics is this: Think of the brain as the central office of your body. Every experience you have on any given day, then, is a folder being dropped on a desk to be filed away for future reference. The administrative assistant who comes in at night, while you’re asleep, to clear that logjam in her in-box is the part of the brain called the hippocampus.  The hippocampus takes all these folders and files them in places that make sense. This experience is a fight with your husband? Great, let’s put it with a few more of those from last year. This experience is a memory of a fireworks display? Cross-reference it with a Fourth of July party you attended a while back. She tries to place each memory where there are as many related incidents as possible, because that is what makes them easier to retrieve.  Sometimes, though, you simply cannot remember an experience.” ... (or even know that it happened to you until an intuitive readiness to openly confront a terrifying, deeply repressed truth places a tool, like EMDR therapy, into your hands, whereby insight focuses its spotlight on a door in your defense system’s wall, and your current strength of self worth, serving as the magic key that works as well as Open Sesame, sees you sliding inside your brain's inner sanctum where your storehouse of mind-boggling mental blocks, made up of inter-related traumas, insecurities and confounding situations await your think tank’s expanding capacity to re-organize the files within your memory bank with such attention to detail so that a tumble into the rabbit hole will no longer cast your processor adrift in a murky swamp with no rudder [or mudder] to guide you toward sighting the welcoming safety of a brand new shore, where you’ll no longer fear the power of childhood's terror overwhelming today’s conscious connection to inner strength whenever a condensed eruption of repressed memories concerning horrific moments is triggered to wash over your wall of denial, which Mother Nature had mercifully instructed your defense system to erect so as to block your conscious awareness from fearing mankind’s cruelty to such a grave extent as to refuse to leave the confines of the closet—until now.  And having reflected over today’s train of thought, I feel thankful for envisioning myself lashed to that mast, because my ship’s never sunk, suggesting that each time I feel reattached to that mast, my power of insight feels steadied to spy the coveted shoreline that beckons me sail straight ahead no matter how long my desire to embrace a lasting sense of inner peace remains just beyond reach, because a life well-lived is less about achieving one’s ultimate goals and more about setting one's inner compass upon remaining on course more often than feeling so spinelessly fearful as to be easily swept up, like a leaf, flitting here and there until ultimately landing in a pile of sameness that ends up amassed within a dark plastic bag which offers my spirit no spotlight of insight at the end of the tunnel, inviting all of me, most significantly my joie de vie, to turn up the music and dance—two steps forward, one back—until my positive energy field spirits my think tank to break free of feeling overwhelmed whenever future gusts of negatively eruptive energy release additional facets of yesteryear's childhood traumas, at last—I hope)

“People with PTSD may have smaller hippocampi than ordinary people. Some scientists believe that corticoids—stress hormones—can atrophy the hippocampus and cause memory disruptions.”

(Once a current event triggers my processor to slip from today’s reality into an episode of PTSD, rather than simply acknowledging my mistake and slipping back out, my intelligence must fortify itself to go to work detecting exactly where I am because each time I’ve stumbled into the rabbit’s hole, my conscious awareness, reacting like a time traveler, feels lost in yet another scary facet of yesteryear’s emotionally overwhelming maze, which appears as impenetrably hazy as had been true when, at the age of three, or five or eleven my safe haven in the arms of those I’d loved had cruelly been wrenched so far above my mental grasp as to have lashed my budding sense of self worth to the mast of a shipwreck, casting my personal sense of safety adrift in a stormy sea, and though I can walk outside and feel the desert sun warm my skin and sense my grand daughter’s eagerness for our next play date—today’s string of insights suggests my intuitive need to discover more about memory and its effects on mind control, ne c’est pas? )

(Trauma and mental blocks—with so much yet to be learned about the complex intricacies of the interrelated functionalities contained within the human brain, it's no wonder why scientific research, regarding everything that takes place inside our heads, is known as ‘the last frontier’.)

The excerpts quoted above are from Leaving Time by novelist, Jodi Picoult

Thoughts coursing within the confines of parentheses (highlighting my need to
Continue to reorganize my brain’s field of positive mental energy) are mine.
Is there any wonder as to why my hungry processor feels
Magnetically drawn to feast upon the brilliance of
This prolific, award winning, best selling author?
Have I mentioned that Will has my permission to call me
A Pita whenever an episode of PTSD turns me into a time traveler?
Pain In The Ass
PS
As readership dropped significantly, last week, when my mind felt too cloistered to pen posts grounded in deeper truth, clarity or common sense, I just want to say grazie for choosing to ride sidekick now that I’m back in the saddle, again.

Since memory leads one train of thought to another, I wonder if you’ve ever heard of TV's singing cowboy—Gene Autry?  If so, it’s likely that you and I are close in age.

If you decide to read Leaving Time, you might want to read Picoult’s Larger Than Life, first as that novella leads into Leaving Time.

IF EPISODES OF PTSD ARE TRIGGERED BY CURRENT EVENTS THEN ...

This morning I awoke to confront the emergence of
A deep sense of saddness, thankfully devoid of
The pain associated with anguish, and I know
To distinguish between the two, because
Anguish is what I’d endured several weeks after
My father’s sudden death at which time
My protective cover of denial fell away, leaving
My mind, body and spirit writhing in
Emotional pain so raw as to have stripped me bare of
Any defense mechanism devised by
Mother Nature to enable humans to endure
Personal loss too great for the heart to bear ...
Geez, I’d thought, this morning, just when
I’d believed myself feeling better ...
What is this welling-up of sadness about?
Thank goodness, intuitive thought offered up
An answer to today’s riddle, which, being in
Keeping with the role that clarity plays in
Saving the day, has served to keep
My current flood of sadness frustration-free, and
So as I continue to progress through each next step toward
Consciously reconciling with each next latent emergence of
Emotion associated with the release of subconsciously
Repressed and thus unresolved grief, I
Gain insight into this fact:  This week’s cloudy
Light-headed sense of denial has been transitioning toward
The emergence of sadness (which runs
Several layers deeper than my reluctance to
Bid adieu to the defense mechanism which had
Hidden my fear of vulnerability behind
My misperceptive assumption that
My Fixer was empowered to solve problems and
Resolve conflicts, which deeper truth has known
All along, were beyond my control) makes sense!
And if you ask why I believe this light-headed
Malaise served to flatten my spirit’s
Joie de vie for more than a week until today’s
Saddness erupted in full force, I’d reply:
Last week, an episode of PTSD usurped control over
My processor, and if you question how I know that to be
Unequivocally true, the power of my conviction would say:
Episodes of PTSD are always triggered by
Current events, and last Sunday, the intuitive detective, who
Mediates between the conscious and subconscious
Portions of my brain, began to detect and assemble
All of the pieces of the puzzle, concerning
The set of recent events that had conspired to be
My undoing, last week, alerting my survival instinct
To cocoon my think tank in solitude, freeing
My power of intuition to do its undercover work, whereby
Each event, falling into its very own slot, saw
My brain reacting more like a kaleidoscope than
The rebalanced, clear headed thought processing machine that
Has become well practiced at gathering and
Assembling facts until THE BIGGER PICTURE
Appears, magically, as though all on its own in 3D, and
As soon as my mind boggling reaction to
This week’s eruptive episode of PTSD made sense
My positively focused attitude was restored, re-igniting
My spirit’s joie de vie, and as a result of
Those changes for the better, internal muscle tension
Released, freeing my heart to pump my body (which
Includes my brain) full of oxygen, creating a sense of
Strong heartedness (rather than light-headedness) that
Recreates my lost sense of well balanced
Wholesomeness, which is beginning to feel
Lighter than air, and just to be truthful, here’s
A second reason as to why I am feeling a lessening of
Heaviness:  Each episodic of PTSD, which
Hijacks my connection to logical thought processing
Also hijacks my appetite for fun, laughter and food
Rendering my mind, spirit and body
(Inclusive of my brain) too weakened to
Function with any sense of energized clarity intact ...
And as the nature of this beast flattens
My appetite for life, itself, the extra five pounds that
I’ve been unable to shed since summer has magically
Disappeared into thin air along with my light-headed malaise
And that’s all I feel like clarifying, today
Except to say that the set of current events, which had
Converged, last week, has been mentioned in
Recent posts, suggesting that you can choose to
Do some detective work re-searching details on
Your own, or you can wait to see if
My intuitive voice decides to pipe up and
Pen a post in which each interrelated detail slips into
Its kaleidoscopic slot, whereby THE BIGGER
PICTURE (culminating in the emergence of
This morning’s flood of sadness) will
Assemble itself in 3D for you as it has, today, for me
And BTW, now that intuitive clarity has unwrapped
Its gift of understanding exactly what’s been shifting
Gears inside my head over this past week
I no longer feel the overwhelming sense of sadness which
Had served to draw me toward composing this post, and
Thus do I feel deeply thankful for all I continue to
Learn about myself and my innate potential to
Develop the necessary brain control to minimize
The victimizing distress associated with PTSD during
Each session of EMDR therapy in which
The astute guidance of my therapist offers
My intelligence sound reason to grow ever more
Inquisitive and knowledgeable about (as well as
Patient with) fortifying my faith in
My power of intuition, which seeks out
An emotionally peaceful (safe) environment of solitude in
Order to assume its role as wise old sage, who, acting like
The middleman, communicates freely with
Both my subconscious and conscious mind whenever
Readiness to release another secret, concerning some portion
Of a childhood trauma, insecurity or repressed sorrows is mine
Oh yes, one last riddle to consider for today:  I wonder if
You can readily define what differentiates a trauma from a fear?