Paraphrasing reknown psychologist, Alfred Adler:
If we have nothing to compensate for we have no way of reaching the greatness within us. The brokenness allows one to achieve spectacular performance.
Annie's take:
Whereas ordinary experiences create an ordinary life, hardship may inspire a connection to arise between extra-sensory perception (insightfulness) and the development of extraordinary (extra/ordinary) strengths. Perhaps this sixth sense is less apt to develop when a fearful mind clings to the safety net of a conventional life. Give me reason to experiment with pushing past the narrow limits of my comfort zone or condemn my existential beliefs to death ... so to speak :)
Think of comedic giants, pushing past yesterday's pain ... Giants such as ... Lucille Ball, Carol Burnett, Jonathan Winters, Woody Allen, Robin Williams ... what doth thee know of broken childhoods leading toward comedic genius?
When asked why so few break free of ghetto life, where downtrodden souls barely survive, here is my stock reply: All a Phoenix needs to rise from the ashes is one strong, supportive hand that reaches down and never lets go ... Interestingly ... most often that hand is attached to the arm of an innocent child's beloved, stout-hearted grandma.
During the years of my secreted-tumultuous childhood, the supportive hand, holding fast to mine, had been Dad's. Though Mom and I loved each other deeply, Dad's strength of spirit ignited my own.
Historically, my strong spirited smile has far outshone subconscious angst carried forth as baggage hidden from plain sight deep within my mind. When asked how I know today's smile proves true rather than hinting at denial, here is my reply:
No matter how often sciatica flares ... no matter how many family festivities are missed or spent on couch or chair, here's why my smile refuses to turn upside down, over long—all in all, I consider myself a lucky duck! And that's most especially true when the subject concerns giving and receiving love—and thank goodness I've chosen to make that attitude my own for this reason: If my face frowned, too often, then helping me through painful weeks might become a royal pain for loved ones who choose to pitch in while I'm down.
In hopes of not taking my limitations too seriously when chronic pain has reason to heighten, I'm the first to call myself PITA, thus opening the door to good-natured loved ones, who make good use of that nickname, as well. You see, as long as my strength of spirit faces up to the truth of pita-hood with self respect intact, I can consciously stop a frown from shading the sun by choosing an attitude that shines up my smile ... And so far, this plan of pushing past certain limits while accepting limitations that prove beyond my control must be working well, because, so far, no one's threatened to throw mama from the train :)
If we have nothing to compensate for we have no way of reaching the greatness within us. The brokenness allows one to achieve spectacular performance.
Annie's take:
Whereas ordinary experiences create an ordinary life, hardship may inspire a connection to arise between extra-sensory perception (insightfulness) and the development of extraordinary (extra/ordinary) strengths. Perhaps this sixth sense is less apt to develop when a fearful mind clings to the safety net of a conventional life. Give me reason to experiment with pushing past the narrow limits of my comfort zone or condemn my existential beliefs to death ... so to speak :)
Think of comedic giants, pushing past yesterday's pain ... Giants such as ... Lucille Ball, Carol Burnett, Jonathan Winters, Woody Allen, Robin Williams ... what doth thee know of broken childhoods leading toward comedic genius?
When asked why so few break free of ghetto life, where downtrodden souls barely survive, here is my stock reply: All a Phoenix needs to rise from the ashes is one strong, supportive hand that reaches down and never lets go ... Interestingly ... most often that hand is attached to the arm of an innocent child's beloved, stout-hearted grandma.
During the years of my secreted-tumultuous childhood, the supportive hand, holding fast to mine, had been Dad's. Though Mom and I loved each other deeply, Dad's strength of spirit ignited my own.
Historically, my strong spirited smile has far outshone subconscious angst carried forth as baggage hidden from plain sight deep within my mind. When asked how I know today's smile proves true rather than hinting at denial, here is my reply:
No matter how often sciatica flares ... no matter how many family festivities are missed or spent on couch or chair, here's why my smile refuses to turn upside down, over long—all in all, I consider myself a lucky duck! And that's most especially true when the subject concerns giving and receiving love—and thank goodness I've chosen to make that attitude my own for this reason: If my face frowned, too often, then helping me through painful weeks might become a royal pain for loved ones who choose to pitch in while I'm down.
In hopes of not taking my limitations too seriously when chronic pain has reason to heighten, I'm the first to call myself PITA, thus opening the door to good-natured loved ones, who make good use of that nickname, as well. You see, as long as my strength of spirit faces up to the truth of pita-hood with self respect intact, I can consciously stop a frown from shading the sun by choosing an attitude that shines up my smile ... And so far, this plan of pushing past certain limits while accepting limitations that prove beyond my control must be working well, because, so far, no one's threatened to throw mama from the train :)
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