Upon returning from Janet’s funeral, Jennie and Jack sit, side by side, on the burgundy, damask, living room couch, one piece of Grandma’s French provincial furniture, which she’d moved into my parents’ apartment, along with herself, immediately after her only daughter's wedding. While gripping each other’s hands for support, my bereaved parents concentrate on their spiritual advisor’s every word. The rabbi has stopped by to console my grieving family, and while the living room and dining room fill with the downcast faces of family and friends, my parents work at maintaining emotional control while asking this revered, spiritual advisor, “Why was Janet given to us to love so deeply for such a short a time? Why did God take her back, so soon?”
While listening to the Rabbi’s comfortless reply, my distraught parents find nothing of spiritual reassurance in his words: “Your daughter was born to live through the short expanse of time, owed to another person, whose death had come earlier than that which had been ‘preordained'.”
Rather than easing their pain, the rabbi’s response ignites anger, which roils beneath the depressed state of Jennie and Jack’s composure. In addition to recoiling from the rabbi's limp reasoning, as to why their beloved child has been wrenched from their arms, the horrors of World War II and The Holocaust are excrutiatingly fresh. How many extended family members have disappeared, over the past several years, into ovens, where dark clouds of smoke had recently and grievously arisen above the rooftops of concentration camps throughout Europe—most especially camps in Poland—where my father had lived with extended family during the first seven years of his life?
Having heard no words, which reaffirm their faith in a just and merciful God, my parents’ religious attachment diminishes spontaneously and significantly. As to Grandma, her fear of a wrathful God is reconfirmed.
—Now, let's imagine a movie camera swinging toward the reactions of the surviving child, who has no clue where she fits into this picture as stressful conversations heat up, over the next several days, amongst so many hearts, mourning as one? Imagine her wondering: What the heck is going on, here?
—Imagine how diligently this child might work, to no avail, to recapture her parents’ and grandma’s delighted attentions.
—Imagine a little girl seeking sunny reactions, which had previously been forthcoming, and thus, taken for granted, all around.
—Imagine tremendous shock waves stretching over days, weeks, and months while scenes of anguished turmoil bury merriment and joy.
—Imagine laying Janet to rest at the foot of Jack's father's grave.
—Imagine the fact that this grandfather's grave is almost as fresh as the spot where a tiny coffin has just been lowered.
—Imagine laying Janet to rest at the foot of Jack's father's grave.
—Imagine the fact that this grandfather's grave is almost as fresh as the spot where a tiny coffin has just been lowered.
—*Imagine the fact that most people have no clue how far back we may need to reflect before the 'main root' of a life-changing experience, which causes self-defining character traits to swerve off center, is unearthed. What if consequences, which accompany acquired traits, go unidentified until subconscious pain runs so deep that the spirit hits bottom? How might a mind, lost in a maze of torment fog up?
*When reality proves too hard to bear, the fog places clarity in a time out chair. At this point, when the strain of dealing with endless pain is in dire need of relief, where might the defense system think to go, next? At three, alcohol is not a choice. 'Happy pills' are still in the lab. This brings us to door number three—and as a hush spreads over the audience and the curtain goes up, what gift might we see?
We see the gift that Mother Nature offers to this terror struck tyke: Behind door number three, Annie's defense system has decided to cast a magic spell, which sends her on the trip of a lifetime, and upon packing her baggage, off she goes ...
—Imagine the song: Let a smile be your umbrella
—Imagine these lyrics: When you walk through a storm ... hold your head up high and don't be afraid of the dark ... You'll never walk alone ...
Needless to say, this is not sound advise for a three year old child in need of nurturing and guidance. I mean, really! Twinkle, twinkle little star, up above the world so high ...if what goes up must come down, what might cause this diamond in the sky to fall, downdowndown? Imagine how focused another portion of this young mind must unknowingly become if defining moments, based in fear, are, one day, to be identified, understood—and neutralized, so that Annie's sense of reality blows through the fog, and clarity returns, at last.
—Imagine Annie's spirit in a slump; imagine her smile in retirement. Imagine another change resuscitating her smile. Imagine this 'change', feeding her hunger. Imagine Annie's confusion hiding behind a smile, which becomes her umbrella, whenever she walks, all alone. Imagine Annie behaving in such a way as to court the smiles of others while she, unknowingly, embarks upon a quest for clues as to how acquired traits merge into survival instincts to make up the sum of a person's whole. Thank goodness, everything has two sides, because in addition to leading toward Annie's undoing, acquired traits will also serve her well.
*When reality proves too hard to bear, the fog places clarity in a time out chair. At this point, when the strain of dealing with endless pain is in dire need of relief, where might the defense system think to go, next? At three, alcohol is not a choice. 'Happy pills' are still in the lab. This brings us to door number three—and as a hush spreads over the audience and the curtain goes up, what gift might we see?
We see the gift that Mother Nature offers to this terror struck tyke: Behind door number three, Annie's defense system has decided to cast a magic spell, which sends her on the trip of a lifetime, and upon packing her baggage, off she goes ...
—Imagine the song: Let a smile be your umbrella
—Imagine these lyrics: When you walk through a storm ... hold your head up high and don't be afraid of the dark ... You'll never walk alone ...
Needless to say, this is not sound advise for a three year old child in need of nurturing and guidance. I mean, really! Twinkle, twinkle little star, up above the world so high ...if what goes up must come down, what might cause this diamond in the sky to fall, downdowndown? Imagine how focused another portion of this young mind must unknowingly become if defining moments, based in fear, are, one day, to be identified, understood—and neutralized, so that Annie's sense of reality blows through the fog, and clarity returns, at last.
—Imagine Annie's spirit in a slump; imagine her smile in retirement. Imagine another change resuscitating her smile. Imagine this 'change', feeding her hunger. Imagine Annie's confusion hiding behind a smile, which becomes her umbrella, whenever she walks, all alone. Imagine Annie behaving in such a way as to court the smiles of others while she, unknowingly, embarks upon a quest for clues as to how acquired traits merge into survival instincts to make up the sum of a person's whole. Thank goodness, everything has two sides, because in addition to leading toward Annie's undoing, acquired traits will also serve her well.
Now, let's compare fearfully acquired traits to tattoos, which needle the deepest layers of the mind. Imagine working to 'lighten up' dark stains, which may never be ‘erased’. Imagine a need for professional help at a time when very few think to seek it out. Imagine the tragic impact when acquired traits drag a bright young mind toward self-defeat through every stage of life. Imagine this young mind reacting like a fully cranked jack-in-the box when any aspect of a new experience resembles any portion of a dark memory, tucked subconsciously away. Imagine anxiety flooding a mind with sensations of feeling inexplicably inadequate, not 'good' enough, not smart enough or utterly invisible ... when nothing is further from the truth. When Annie feels 'bad', she'll work to be better. When Annie feels dumb, she'll review her work and correct her mistakes. When Annie feels invisible, she may consciously concentrate on observing bigger pictures, all around. On the other hand, when Annie needs to protect herself from overwhelming fear, but feels powerless to do so, her defense system may assume control over her mind by depressing her thought processing center.
In this way, Annie may unknowingly disassociate from consciousness, from time to time. And thus will she 'lose' track of memories, too painful to track. *Imagine anxiety creating static—blurring clarity. *Imagine the classic nature of anxious reactiveness each time inner conflict, causes confusion, which gives birth to misperception. Imagine this invasion of peace of mind.
Imagine Mother Nature providing human beings with a defense mechanism, called disassociation, with which we unknowingly protect ourselves when need to free severely repressed portions of our personalities emerges. Imagine two people relating the same story from each one's perspective. Imagine two sides to every story.
In this way, Annie may unknowingly disassociate from consciousness, from time to time. And thus will she 'lose' track of memories, too painful to track. *Imagine anxiety creating static—blurring clarity. *Imagine the classic nature of anxious reactiveness each time inner conflict, causes confusion, which gives birth to misperception. Imagine this invasion of peace of mind.
Imagine Mother Nature providing human beings with a defense mechanism, called disassociation, with which we unknowingly protect ourselves when need to free severely repressed portions of our personalities emerges. Imagine two people relating the same story from each one's perspective. Imagine two sides to every story.
I've said this, quite often: If I was in one room, telling you the story of my marriage and then you went into the next room, and asked my husband the very same questions ... afterwards, while comparing notes, here is what you'd surmise: Two very nice people. Too bad they'd never met. They'd probably have become very good friends, who'd enjoyed each other's company, quite a lot. Oh yes, you'd also have noticed this: My answers would fill a book. A saga. Maybe a trilogy. My husband's answers would fill a paragraph. Maybe. On the other hand, if you'd asked us questions, concerning sports, those last few sentences would most certainly flip. And though you may be chuckling, in here is why there's nothing flip about all of that: We say we laugh at the truth for this reason: There's at least a kernel of truth in every joke. And often times, while clowning around on the surface, we may have no clue how much a flagging spirit is crying deep inside. In short, we disassociate from ourselves.
*Tis sad when disassociation creates misperceptions, which blur clarity indefinitely, because misperceptions create misery of our own making. *Tis frustratingly sad to witness human pain, which having been self-inflicted, is utterly unnecessary? *In retrospect, my life-long quest for clarity has never been unfounded. *In fact instinct depends upon common sense when questing to rebalance beliefs based in misperception.
In the aftermath of Janet’s death and for decades to follow, a two headed monster will mystify my intelligence. And not until insight names both fears will I ‘grow’ so self aware as to stave off this monster’s stealthy approach. Needless to say, inexplicable death is one of countless experiences, which cause normal childhood fears to magnify into mind-consuming beasts. And though, one day, I’ll recall the clarity to call each snarling head by name and command that beast to heel—for now, let’s muzzle, leash and nickname this scratchy, little devil:
*Tis sad when disassociation creates misperceptions, which blur clarity indefinitely, because misperceptions create misery of our own making. *Tis frustratingly sad to witness human pain, which having been self-inflicted, is utterly unnecessary? *In retrospect, my life-long quest for clarity has never been unfounded. *In fact instinct depends upon common sense when questing to rebalance beliefs based in misperception.
In the aftermath of Janet’s death and for decades to follow, a two headed monster will mystify my intelligence. And not until insight names both fears will I ‘grow’ so self aware as to stave off this monster’s stealthy approach. Needless to say, inexplicable death is one of countless experiences, which cause normal childhood fears to magnify into mind-consuming beasts. And though, one day, I’ll recall the clarity to call each snarling head by name and command that beast to heel—for now, let’s muzzle, leash and nickname this scratchy, little devil:
RAMPANT INSECURITY
Every few weeks I ask new followers for help in this way:
If you think my stories may offer insight to anyone you know
I'd appreciate your help, spreading healing trains of thought, such as these
From heart to heart in home after home
It's my hope that you may choose to take an active role in fueling this grass roots movement
Which, being in its infancy, compels me to write, every day
And if asked, Annie, what do you hope to achieve?
I'd say:
I hope to inspire people to think, to question where their paths have taken them, thus far
I hope to send out healing trains of thought, which may circle the globe
I entertain the hope that you may choose to mention the focus of my blog
Whenever conversations raise questions concerning
Inner conflict, family strife, clarity and peace of mind
And now, with respect and appreciation for the interconnectedness of my spirit and yours
Here comes the end of my last train of thought, for today:
It takes more than a village to empower the spirit of a grass root movement
To chug around the world ...
It takes a circle of love ...
Seeking insight into positive focus, self-trust and clarity
In hopes of healing wounded hearts, minds, and spirits in nation after nation
And as more of us join hands and learn to work as a team of champions
We may grow less self-destructive, one and all
Day by day
Oh yes—one more thing ...
Having consciously acquired the trait of patience
I do not need to realize this goal within my lifetime ...
On the other hand ...
When it's my turn to my way through the Pearly Gates
I sure would like to tell Socrates
That the power of his sage words
'Know Thyself'
Empowers many, today
And thus, may his mind rest in peace
Knowing that the messenger did not die in vain
PS
Being a guy, the sage managed to say it all—in two words!
As of today ... 43 nations and counting ... J
Do you remember this quote:
"It takes a village to raise a child."
The wisdom inherent in that quote, which made its way around the world, originated in Africa.Every few weeks I ask new followers for help in this way:
If you think my stories may offer insight to anyone you know
I'd appreciate your help, spreading healing trains of thought, such as these
From heart to heart in home after home
It's my hope that you may choose to take an active role in fueling this grass roots movement
Which, being in its infancy, compels me to write, every day
And if asked, Annie, what do you hope to achieve?
I'd say:
I hope to inspire people to think, to question where their paths have taken them, thus far
I hope to send out healing trains of thought, which may circle the globe
I entertain the hope that you may choose to mention the focus of my blog
Whenever conversations raise questions concerning
Inner conflict, family strife, clarity and peace of mind
And now, with respect and appreciation for the interconnectedness of my spirit and yours
Here comes the end of my last train of thought, for today:
It takes more than a village to empower the spirit of a grass root movement
To chug around the world ...
It takes a circle of love ...
Seeking insight into positive focus, self-trust and clarity
In hopes of healing wounded hearts, minds, and spirits in nation after nation
And as more of us join hands and learn to work as a team of champions
We may grow less self-destructive, one and all
Day by day
Oh yes—one more thing ...
Having consciously acquired the trait of patience
I do not need to realize this goal within my lifetime ...
On the other hand ...
When it's my turn to my way through the Pearly Gates
I sure would like to tell Socrates
That the power of his sage words
'Know Thyself'
Empowers many, today
And thus, may his mind rest in peace
Knowing that the messenger did not die in vain
PS
Being a guy, the sage managed to say it all—in two words!
As of today ... 43 nations and counting ... J
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