Monday, April 21, 2014
So yesterday, while finishing my morning grooming routine, insight emerged, as though all on it's own, suggesting my subconscious percolating away. This insight identified a heavy weight that I was unaware of toting, day and night, since Mom was laid to rest with Dad. Once recognition was mine, my mind brightened, and with a sudden wave of relief, tension relaxed and my spirit lightened—just like that. Each time intuition suggests offering my conscious brain a much needed rest while trusting my subconscious to percolate on its own, this welcome chain of events is often the case :)
Yesterday's insight concerns the way I'd trained my brain to churn out problem solving, sanity saving plans, on the spot. Though generally, these plans meet with success, I came to identify one, in particular, which has not. As this feeling of failure, which had plagued me subconsciously for quite some time, surfaced, I stopped holding myself responsible for inspiring change-for-the-better in my extended family. Though still sad, concerning unresolved conflict, this sense of clarity freed my mind of failure, and with release, a renewed sense of peace unfurrowed my brow.
First thing I did was to find Will—sitting at the kitchen table, working away at a patient file as thick as a ream of printer paper, in preparation for an IME (independent medical evaluation for the industrial commision). While waiting patiently for my husband's mind to transition from his work to my standing beside him, a conscious appreciation of the life we share filled my mind.
When Will looked up, my smile catalyzed his own.
'It's good to see you smiling, again.'
'I know. That's why I came to find you. To thank you for your patience.'
'Annie, I know when you need space.'
'When awareness is brewing, I need more than space—I need a cocoon. It's like a renovation taking place inside my head.'
'No kidding. You've been pretty spacey, most especially, this week.'
'Well, there's been a lot to consider, and it's good to know my energy's been focused on thoughts that prove productive. Once insight hit, that subconscious mindset of undeserved guilt, which I tend to lug around, from time to time, emerged. Hopefully, today's awareness will re-energize my spirit. Anyway, thanks for giving me the space I needed to figure out where I need to—grow.'
Once we'd sealed our good fortune with a kiss, Will turned back to his chart while I made my way to the fridge. In hopes of offering my subconscious more time to percolate freely, I poured myself a glass of fresh grapefruit juice to enjoy on my swing while musing over whatever else might flow forth naturally from deep within my mind.
Though we were several weeks late in picking this year's crop of my father's favorite fruit, I'm enjoying the juice of that labor, right now. About a gallon of delicious, fresh squeezed juice is in the fridge while two large baskets, one red, one white, gracing the center island in our kitchen, are piled high with bright yellow balls, their fragrance, stirred by ceiling fans, wafting through the air.
As springtime, a most beautiful season, offers a sense of renewal, I decided to appreciate all that is good with life. So having poured a glassful of grapefruit juice over ice, I slid open my patio door, settled myself on my swing, gazed above my mountain, over the expanse of the azure blue sky and enjoyed a visit with loved ones beyond my reach—some of whom are very much alive …
As for today, I'd like to table yesterday's insight, which had empowered my conscious mind to blow away undeserved guilt (again!), in favor of focusing upon THE LOOK OF LOVE—Boy Meets Girl—for this reason: One insight leads to many more, and I'm not sure how this newly expanded sense of awareness may inspire an old, troubling mindset to change for the better.
If you ask how I 'know' change-for-the-better is afoot, I'd reply: Time and again, insight into negatively focused patterns of thought empowers my sense of self trust to strengthen. In addition to that, I place my trust in the fact that my subconscious is hardwired to percolate on its own. So while yesterday's insight simmers on a back burner, let's turn our attention to igniting the flame that drew my dad to my mother's side :)
Circa 1941
If you wonder at the fact that my beautiful, curvaceous mother (as well as her four cousins) had reached their late twenties, still single, well history suggests that during WWII most eligible bachelors had been shipped overseas. In addition to that fact, Jennie had grown up observing the character traits of five men, first hand, meaning that intuition had factored into her decision-making process when it came to trusting a guy—or not.
If you wonder why Jack had not enlisted to fight for his country, well, being a strong, strapping, patriotic, young man, he had—but did not pass the physical. (I remember Dad saying that he'd walk down the street and shrink into himself at having received down-in-the-nose, judgemental glances from many who'd apparently wondered at his being stateside.)
At about the age of two, Jack, still in Poland at that time, came down with a case of smallpox. Fortunately, he'd escaped scarring, except for one reminder, barely detectable on his forehead. Unfortunately, the severity of his illness had left my father deaf in one ear.
Tonight, while the world is at war, two young people, who'd looked for love in all the right places, are about to attend a dance where they'll meet their match, at last :)
So yesterday, while finishing my morning grooming routine, insight emerged, as though all on it's own, suggesting my subconscious percolating away. This insight identified a heavy weight that I was unaware of toting, day and night, since Mom was laid to rest with Dad. Once recognition was mine, my mind brightened, and with a sudden wave of relief, tension relaxed and my spirit lightened—just like that. Each time intuition suggests offering my conscious brain a much needed rest while trusting my subconscious to percolate on its own, this welcome chain of events is often the case :)
Yesterday's insight concerns the way I'd trained my brain to churn out problem solving, sanity saving plans, on the spot. Though generally, these plans meet with success, I came to identify one, in particular, which has not. As this feeling of failure, which had plagued me subconsciously for quite some time, surfaced, I stopped holding myself responsible for inspiring change-for-the-better in my extended family. Though still sad, concerning unresolved conflict, this sense of clarity freed my mind of failure, and with release, a renewed sense of peace unfurrowed my brow.
First thing I did was to find Will—sitting at the kitchen table, working away at a patient file as thick as a ream of printer paper, in preparation for an IME (independent medical evaluation for the industrial commision). While waiting patiently for my husband's mind to transition from his work to my standing beside him, a conscious appreciation of the life we share filled my mind.
When Will looked up, my smile catalyzed his own.
'It's good to see you smiling, again.'
'I know. That's why I came to find you. To thank you for your patience.'
'Annie, I know when you need space.'
'When awareness is brewing, I need more than space—I need a cocoon. It's like a renovation taking place inside my head.'
'No kidding. You've been pretty spacey, most especially, this week.'
'Well, there's been a lot to consider, and it's good to know my energy's been focused on thoughts that prove productive. Once insight hit, that subconscious mindset of undeserved guilt, which I tend to lug around, from time to time, emerged. Hopefully, today's awareness will re-energize my spirit. Anyway, thanks for giving me the space I needed to figure out where I need to—grow.'
Once we'd sealed our good fortune with a kiss, Will turned back to his chart while I made my way to the fridge. In hopes of offering my subconscious more time to percolate freely, I poured myself a glass of fresh grapefruit juice to enjoy on my swing while musing over whatever else might flow forth naturally from deep within my mind.
Though we were several weeks late in picking this year's crop of my father's favorite fruit, I'm enjoying the juice of that labor, right now. About a gallon of delicious, fresh squeezed juice is in the fridge while two large baskets, one red, one white, gracing the center island in our kitchen, are piled high with bright yellow balls, their fragrance, stirred by ceiling fans, wafting through the air.
As springtime, a most beautiful season, offers a sense of renewal, I decided to appreciate all that is good with life. So having poured a glassful of grapefruit juice over ice, I slid open my patio door, settled myself on my swing, gazed above my mountain, over the expanse of the azure blue sky and enjoyed a visit with loved ones beyond my reach—some of whom are very much alive …
As for today, I'd like to table yesterday's insight, which had empowered my conscious mind to blow away undeserved guilt (again!), in favor of focusing upon THE LOOK OF LOVE—Boy Meets Girl—for this reason: One insight leads to many more, and I'm not sure how this newly expanded sense of awareness may inspire an old, troubling mindset to change for the better.
If you ask how I 'know' change-for-the-better is afoot, I'd reply: Time and again, insight into negatively focused patterns of thought empowers my sense of self trust to strengthen. In addition to that, I place my trust in the fact that my subconscious is hardwired to percolate on its own. So while yesterday's insight simmers on a back burner, let's turn our attention to igniting the flame that drew my dad to my mother's side :)
Circa 1941
If you wonder at the fact that my beautiful, curvaceous mother (as well as her four cousins) had reached their late twenties, still single, well history suggests that during WWII most eligible bachelors had been shipped overseas. In addition to that fact, Jennie had grown up observing the character traits of five men, first hand, meaning that intuition had factored into her decision-making process when it came to trusting a guy—or not.
If you wonder why Jack had not enlisted to fight for his country, well, being a strong, strapping, patriotic, young man, he had—but did not pass the physical. (I remember Dad saying that he'd walk down the street and shrink into himself at having received down-in-the-nose, judgemental glances from many who'd apparently wondered at his being stateside.)
At about the age of two, Jack, still in Poland at that time, came down with a case of smallpox. Fortunately, he'd escaped scarring, except for one reminder, barely detectable on his forehead. Unfortunately, the severity of his illness had left my father deaf in one ear.
Tonight, while the world is at war, two young people, who'd looked for love in all the right places, are about to attend a dance where they'll meet their match, at last :)
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