1203 ANNIE MEETS WILL Part 12

2014

Awoke just after 5AM

And guess what happened, right off the bat?

Intuitive thought reached for my iPad, and lo and behold, my mind added so many insights to yesterday's post as to suggest that I say nothing more today, than this:  Please feel free to free your intuition to guide you to review post 1202 or not.  As for me, I'll attempt to get in a few winks of sleep before arising to ready myself to open our front door to welcome Celina, Steven, Ravi and Celina's parents, siblings, spouses, niece and nephew, all of whom plan to enjoy a second Thanksgiving feast with Will, David, my niece Jessie, her husband, Stuart and yours truly☺️

Wishing you and yours a five star Sunday!

Your NGU-working-to-achieve-a-heartfelt-goal friend,

☺️Annie

1202 ANNIE MEETS WILL Part 11

2014
This post is not coming easy
My mind is struggling to express emotion, which must have
Remained in an unprocessed state since I was eighteen, so
Rather than striving for clarity, it may be best to
Allow stream of consciousness to express itself so naturally
As to free my subconscious to surprise my conscious mind with
Whatever pours out, and having made that decision
My thought processor must have unblocked, because
This memory appeared, clear as day, in my mind:

1962
I'm standing in my aunt Sari's kitchen
Will and I have been dating for a while
Aunt Sari asks:
How is Will different from other boys you've dated?
My reply is spontaneous:
Will is the nicest boy who's ever asked me out

2014
By the time Will and I broke up, several months later
My intuitive impression had not changed
Will was still the nicest boy I'd ever dated
So if intuition remained unchanged then
Why did we come undone?
Hmmm… something tells me that my brain is about to
Reveal insight into what happens when
Intuition capitulates to fear …

Just as freeing my stream of consciousness directed
My brain to shine a light onto my answer to Aunt Sari's question
Let's see if insight into my first impression concerning Will's character
Ignites a string of insights until today's intuitive train of thought
Tunnels toward a deeper truth in need of emergence …
Ready?  Set?  All aboard!

As intuitive thought is born of feeling
Intuition is not based in logic for this reason:
Logical thought is learned whereas intuitive thought
Is based in feeling, speaking so naturally
From the depths of each person's core as to stimulate
A chemical reaction that proves primal to the interconnectedness of
That individual's spiritual, mental, emotional, and physical well being

Each time your brain sends an intuitive message to
The conscious portion of your mind, your sixth sense
Empowers your subconscious to direct
Your vehicle of transportation (your body) to react naturally
Suggesting that Mother Nature has preprogrammed
Intuitive thought to set 'societal shoulds' aside in favor of
Heeding existential needs, which remain unmet

If intuitive needs, which prove primal
Struggle for brain space with 'Societal shoulds' (learned during childhood)
Then mental confusion gives rise to spikes of anxiety

Each time mental confusion, based in inner conflict
Creates spikes of anxiety, I take a time out to
Calm my mind enough to work through confusion so as to
Consider the bigger picture with such effectiveness
As to assess needs, all around
Sometimes the bigger picture presents a puzzle so
Challenging as to require a lengthy time out until clarity is mine
(Quoting  my dear friend, Angie:
Annie, your mind wrestles with conflict until
You stare directly into the eye of the tiger at which time
You brainstorm until you figure out how best to calm the storm
At other times, Angie says:  You pull at a
Problem until its main root is unearthed, and clarity is yours

Though my choice to engage in wrestling matches between
Intuitive thought and learned response can
Exhaust my mind, I find that while working to clear a pathway
Through emotional confusion toward mental clarity into deeper truth
The emergence of strings of insight re-energizes my spirit
And resultant of having brainstormed toward clarity
I feel blessed with an ever deepening sense of inner peace
Most especially at those times when I watch
The minds of my loved ones engaging with
Emotional turmoil so illogical as to cause
Blood to boil to unhealthy degrees—repeatedly …
On the other hand, here's the rub:
I can't save my loved ones from stumbling forward on
Their rocky paths, where societal pressures to conform
Create internal combustion, any more than
Anyone could save me until
I chose to tread the path of self discovery ... However
What I can do is this:  I can muster the patience necessary
To never give up working toward achieving
A heartfelt goal that proves as positively focused as this:
As each person gains insight into
The interconnectedness conjoining
Both sides of human nature, We can trade in our
Defensive armor for strings of insight into deeper truth, and
As each mind opens to listen and respond from
A place of intuition, our doors will open to welcome
Another person's heartfelt change in mind set whenever
That person's intuitive sense of readiness
Reconnects with yours and mine
And when that blessed time comes to pass then
Heartfelt goals, which we'll work, together, to achieve shall
Provide safe haven for all who gather so close as to
Adopt our vision of peaceful co-existence throughout the world

If intuition, which expresses itself as a surge of natural emotion is
Based in stream of consciousness, which suggests:
'Do this, right now, no confusion, no conflict, no hesitation'
Then you might ask:  What makes intuition change its mind?
I mean, if intuition created a chemical reaction that
Made me lightheaded whenever
A certain boy passed near my desk in high school
Then do you have a clue as to which part of my brain would have
Caused my anxiety to rise, compelling me to
Push him away if he'd pulled me close after
I'd consented to spend time alone with him in his car?
In answer to that question:
The part of my brain that would have felt compelled to
Push him away would not have been triggered by
An intuitive reaction but rather by
My mind's experiential connectedness to an
Unidentified fear, repressed subconsciously during childhood ...
In short, I would have felt fearful of failing societal dictate...
I would have feared failing to please those I loved
In fact, reflection suggests that each time
I'd felt compelled to push away a guy whose
Passion had been obvious, I'd had no clue of having
Failed myself , time and again, by anesthetizing
My impassioned reaction behind a defensive wall, which
Denied my conscious mind access to
The deeper truth concerning my experiential fear of sexual interaction

Today, insight into deeper truth suggests that
Intuition does not change its mind
What does change is this:
Subconscious fear, which remains in
An unidentified, repressed state, interferes with clarity, causing
Intuitive thought to grow so shrouded with self doubt
As to discombobulate the complex components of our brains to
 Feel so confused as to throw the effective operation of the whole
Into a state of defensive dysfunction

Eventually, as fear based confusion, creates high anxiety
Our defense systems call upon denial to
Bury intuitive truth within the subconscious where
Raw, impassioned emotion is
Held hostage in an unprocessed state until
Readiness to confront insight into emotional repression is ours
As long as raw, impassioned emotion is held hostage, our choices
Feel limited to fighting, fleeing or freezing in place

As clarity suggests that readiness, concerning
Depth in self awareness may come more readily to
One whose quest into self discovery is not new
Conflict resolution, connecting two hearts, remains illusive until
Both brains muster the courage and humility to
Dive so deep into intuitive insight as to
Distill confusion, thus simplifying emotional complexity

When I was young, my unidentified fear of
Failing to please others caused me to
Fail myself, time and again
Why?  Ever since Janet's death
I chose my loved ones' needs over mine

It was not until recently that
My think tank learned to develop
Depths of self awareness necessary to
Brainstorm my way through inner conflict so as to
Distill information until insight into an effective plan of action
Considered needs, all around, thus resolving
My fear of failing others while at the same time
Ensuring not to fail myself as had been true at eighteen

Thank goodness, my brain no longer confuses
Intuitive thought with spikes of anxiety, based in
Subconscious fear of failure left in an unprocessed
Repressed and thus unidentified state during childhood

If there's one lesson I've learned with
Thoroughness concerning insight, it is this:
Though an astute insight offers
An answer to a perplexing question
One insight does not necessarily lead to change for the better, all around
Change for the better, all around, results when a string of
Interrelated insights directs my conscious mind to
Reconsider the limited scope of a belief system that
Prohibits me from achieving an intuitive, heartfelt goal
That proves to be within my reach

If Will proved to be boyfriend material because
He was the nicest boy I'd ever dated, suggesting
My feeling safe in his presence then
Why did we break up?
And after breaking up, what caused our
Relationship to resume and grow stronger than before...
Until yet another unexpected experience
Breathed life into change, which proved necessary, again …

1201 WELCOME MACAU!

 Macau is one of two special administration regions of The People's Republic of China, the other being Hong Kong.  Macau is also spelled Macao

Let's join hands and offer a ♥️felt welcome to our friends in Macau!
76 nations and counting!☺️

PS
May I respectfully suggest that you might want to glance over yesterday's post 😃

1200 A THANKSGIVING PEARL

While working toward achieving ♥️felt goals

Our paths offer bountiful blessings and unexpected challenge

While working toward achieving goals, which seem illusive
Our paths offer two steps forward, one step back
Though feeling stalled gives rise to frustration

Intuition coaches the strong of ♥️ to remember this fact:
Nothing that proves worthwhile comes easy

And as experience proves that fact to be true, time and again
I encourage my sons to pave their paths with

Patience, positive focus and fortitude born of courage
Why courage?
Well, courage forestalls anxiety from
Claiming so much brain space as to
Unsettle peace of mind at times when
♥️felt goals remain beyond reach

In recent years, Steven and Celina

Held hands with hope while

Venturing forth upon the parenthood path

As their ♥️felt goal seemed illusive
They conceived of a plan so positively focused as to
Leave no oyster unturned
And, today, I'm happy to say that

Their pearl of a plan bore fruit so sweet
As to offer the joyous pair this delicious

Thanksgiving treat:
The birth of a precious daughter!

And now that today's positively focused
Train of thought has flown straight from
My happy♥️to yours, I'd like to extend
My Thanksgiving wish for the world, at large:

Hopefully, one day soon, precious children of
Every nationality, encircling the globe, will hold fast to
Each other's hands while visions of world peace
Dance within their bright, little minds
I mean, seriously, positively focused trains of thought, which
We pour into our children's minds, day after day
Create world leaders, whose adopted attitudes
Will carve a path toward
Peaceful coexistence, tomorrow, tomorrow, which
Is only a day away ... suggesting that
Within the blink of an eye
I'll gaze at my precious granddaughter, and
Like the fiddler on the roof
You'll hear my voice ring out with
Clarity born of insight's ♥️felt inner truth:
When did she grow to be a beauty?
When did he grow to be so tall?
How did tomorrow come and go so quickly as to create
Yesterday of that which our ♥️s had hoped to achieve, today ...
Your ever hopeful, positively focused, NGU friend ...
♥️Grama Annie

1199 ANNIE MEETS WILL Part 10

2014
As personal impression creates memory, you may have reason to recall this while I have reason to recall that.  When fear invades our thoughts, your memory's impression may recall factual details of a story differently from that which my personal impression remembers as detailed facts.  Sometimes I have no clue as to why your memory insists on this while you have no clue as to why mine persists with that.  Though times exist when differences in memory rouse frustration for both, other differences of opinion just make us laugh.

Here's a taste test, concerning Will's memory challenging mine whenever we reminisce about our first date on that chilly, star-studded night.  This sample illustrates the fact that memory can be as mysterious to understand as is true of chemistry, so compelling as to create magnetic attraction:

If memory serves both of us as true then
Will and I spent our first date skating together, apart
To this very day, Will insists we skated in the city
I insist we skated in the suburbs
Though Will insists he never skated in the suburbs, and
I insist never to have skated in the city, here is
What our memories recall, concurrently:
We both enjoyed an awesome, star studded night of
Skating in dance-hold while he twirled me
Round and round the ice, somewhere in the Midwest
Though Will's memory and mine enjoy thoughts of
Our first date at separate parks
I'm glad to say that each time this subject comes up
Laughter, rather than frustration, is aroused

Just as memory proves mysterious
The same is true of life ...
As well as of magnetic attraction, developing into love

Horoscopes:
You're allowed to be mysterious

Some of what you were taught is just plain wrong … you can see that, now.  You're not sure what to do, but you'll figure it out and create a new model

So what if you've been practicing getting it right for years, you're still learning and if there's one thing you're not, it's jaded

You'll look for the moral of the story and draw conclusions that are correct, because you distill information to its essence

Information distilled to its essence:
Deeper truth suggests that it takes time to develop the readiness to peel away layers of self protection that hide fear of failure within secreted pockets of human brain's subconscious

If you give up on a heartfelt goal, fear wins, love loses

Deeper truth suggests that the key to reviving a self confident approach to conflict resolution depends upon mastering a positively focused attitude, which instills change for the better, all around.

As two positively focused heads prove better than one, the fruit of your labor and mine, combined, is sure to taste sweeter than either one had ever imagined, alone ...

1198 ANNIE MEETS WILL Part 9

December 21, 1961
My dad works nights, so he's not home to size up my dates.  After I introduce Will to Mom and Grandma, this congenial young man helps me on with my coat, and slings my skates over his shoulder while making small talk with my family as I'm busily buttoning up, zipping my boots, pulling my soft, warm hat over my hair and ears, and slipping my hands into mittens in preparation to greet the cold waft of air, which sweeps, uninvited, into the foyer as soon as the front door is opened when we're ready to depart for the pond.

Though I'd shoveled the walkway, earlier in the day, the sidewalk leading to the curb proves icy, so Will holds me steady as we make our way to the car  Since we're doubling with a couple, whom I've yet to meet, Will, being a well mannered young man, opens the back door of the car with one hand while continuing to hold onto me until I'm seated safely on the seat directly behind a girl, whose name I can't remember any more than I can name Will's friend, who starts the car and pulls away from the curb as soon as Will slides into the seat next to mine, and the four of us are off.

Memory proves to be a mysterious thing in that I can recall every detail about the outfit I'd chosen to wear on my first date with Will but not a thing about the couple with whom we'd skated under the stars on that crisp Midwestern, Saturday night. I mean, it's not as if the ice was crowded—in fact, we four proved to be the only brave souls who'd chosen to skate neath the star studded sky after the sun had bowed to the moon.  Maybe, I can't recall so much as one detail about either of them for two reasons:  It was dark in the car.  Dark, while Will twirled me round and round the pond in the park, where naught could be heard but skate blades, swishing across the ice while peals of laughter sliced through the silence, filling the night air with such a bright glow of merriment as to leave no room for fear to darken so much as one corner of my brain, which felt all warm and snug, safe and happy within my hat.

Then there's reason number three:  Though the future finds us doubling with many of Will's friends, I have no memory of seeing that particular boy or girl, ever again.  For all I know, that night could have been their first date, or perhaps, their last.

Memory, concerning personal impressions, suggests that I'll remember this while you'll remember that.  Or perhaps life offers me reason to fear one thing while you have reason to fear another.  Then there are times when anxiety strikes, and deeper truth suggests we know not which unidentified memory jogged a fear that we've no clue is still raw behind a wall of denial …

Here's another reason that makes me wonder about mysteries inherent to memory:  I mean, why do certain memories linger, holding fast to our hearts—like memories of Will gathering me close in dancer-hold, twirling me around the rink so masterfully as to bolster my spirit with the confidence to follow his lead without fear of falling flat on my face or my buns?  As Will's self confident stance proved contagious, his positive attitude reassured the girl in his arms (whose negative attitude had undermined my self confidence when any sport came to mind), of reviving my natural ability to cast fear of failing aside in order to fully enjoy the pleasures of skating gracefully around the ice on that star-studded night—though dark memories, stored subconsciously, remain deeply repressed, to this very day ... suggesting memory to be a highly complicated machine.

I mean, why does memory of merriment prove so vivid when memories, pulsing with violence, pale to the point of offering me no hint of that which had traumatized the innocent mind of a vulnerable, dark haired, blue eyed child until fairly recently when a surge of courageous readiness to confront my past began to emerge from my subconscious, which, in cahoots with intuition, has been coaxing my conscious mind to muster the courage to absorb one shrouded detail at a time, though each detail causes haunting chills to run down my spine?  And if you ask what may have catalyzed such a courageous change in my self confident stance, I'd reply:  I'm not sure what caused such a leap of faith.  But I can tell you when life challenged me to place my faith in intuition, guiding my path toward healing subconscious pain as never before:  An experience sparked my power of intuition to challenge my self confidence to spread its wings during the heat of summer a couple of years back ...

Horoscopes:
Know that your mind proves to be a complex machine, which functions in mysterious ways

Know that your responsibility to yourself is to minimize anxiety caused by fear of failure

While others enjoy their leisure, you'll hold a hefty plate of unfinished work in your hands.  It's not that you didn't plan well, it's that you recognize that life offers you more that makes you happier than a round of golf

Some of what you were taught is just plain wrong … you can see that, now.  You're not sure what to do, but you'll figure it out and create a new model

So what if you've been practicing getting it right for years, you're still learning and if there's one thing you're not, it's jaded

The person who smells the flowers appreciates the pleasures of life—but not quite as much as the person who stops to plant the flowers, nurturing the patience that proves necessary while buds of love develop the readiness to bloom

You'll look for the moral of the story and draw conclusions that are correct, because you distill information to its essence

You'll be warmly embraced by those you love and admire, because when you win, they will, too 

 Time and again, my eyes open wide in awe of the mysterious ways that life offers up miracles, which delight my heart more than words can say ...

1197 ANNIE MEETS WILL Part 8

December 21, 1961
The doorbell rings
My thirteen year old sister, Lauren
Answers the door, let's Will in and
Runs upstairs where I am applying lipstick in
The spacious bedroom, which we share, and
Just before making my way downstairs
Where Will is waiting to catch his first glimpse of
His blind date, I take one last glance into
The full length mirror, and
This is what I see:
I see a dark haired, blue eyed girl, wearing
A royal blue blouse, but only
The collar can be seen, because
Will has suggested dressing warmly
Why?
Well, our date will take place outside
Under the stars, and as we live in
The Midwest, Jack Frost is sure to
Nip at my nose, so I've slipped
A long sleeved, crew neck sweatshirt, colored
In a bright, cheerful gold over 
My royal blue blouse
As girls, wearing jeans, are a few years down the road
My sunny sweatshirt is paired with
Navy blue slacks over knee high, argyle socks ...
(I find it of interest to note
How clearly detailed my mind proves to be when
Fear does not repress memory into shadows of darkness)
As the city has been newly covered with a
Significant snowfall (which saw me
Shoveling away at our front walk
Earlier in the day), I plan to wear
Water proof boots rather than shoes, so
As soon as I appear at the top of the staircase in my
Sunny, yellow sweatshirt, royal blue collar and navy slacks
And my presence catches Will's eye
I can't help but blush self consciously while offering my date
A slightly tremulous smile as my gold and navy argyle socks
Make their way down the staircase, until Will's upturned face
Breaks into such an eye-sparkling, wide, unwavering grin that
With each step I take, my shyness gives way to
A self confident smile by the time my gold and navy argyle socks
Step onto the foyer floor, where, upon
Looking up at this tall, young man—who will, one day
Father my children—intuition guides me to
Welcome a stranger, named Will, ever so warmly into my life …

1196 ANNIE MEETS WILL Part 7

December 1961
The telephone rings
It's Stuart's friend, Will, calling for me ...
Uh!  One second, please ...
Hold the phone ...

2014
While editing yesterday's post, a shadowed detail slipped through my defensive wall, which is seemingly becoming as permeable as gauze, unwinding, layer by layer from a wound that proves to be painfully raw at my core.  Rather than asking you to reread the entirety of yesterday's post, I'll reproduce the newly edited portion, here, so you can see how readily this 'new' detail slipped through my protective wall of denial and into my awareness while stream of consciousness directed my train of thought.  Ready?  Okay, let's go:

Each time a dream challenges my conscious awareness to grasp an illusive detail, associated with the traumatic secret, trapped within my subconscious, here's what happens:   My brain, functioning as an intelligent whole, works to loosen the paralysis, resulting from PTSD, which remains unhealed, or even worse, undiagnosed.  Just as I'd had no conscious clue that my fear of guys had blocked me from trying out for cheerleading, year after year, I also had no clue as to why anxiety would strike each time I'd find myself alone in a car with a guy, who was driving me home after a date.  (While reviewing that statement, a fleeting thought of babysitting flew through my mind, as though my subconscious had just whispered:  Annie, take note ... something scared you out of your wits while the father drove you home, As anxiety accompanied that darkly shadowed memory, I realized that my brain's most recent attempt to slip another detail into my conscious mind met with resistance for this reason:  Readiness to lift the veil on that experience is not yet mine, because the memory, itself, remains shrouded by too many layers of fear to show itself in a clearly transparent, fully processed state, as of yet ...) 

Hopefully, those of you, who have mastered the patience to follow repetitive trains of thought in post after post, are astutely aware of witnessing my brain working, methodically, to heal itself from PTSD, one cautious, yet courageous, intuitive step at a time.

Once again, chrysalis proves lengthy when layers of self protective denial, which thicken, instinctively, like a plaster cast, are coaxed to soften until each layer of gauze unwinds, thus exposing raw vulnerability, one detail at a time.  And so, in addition to courage—determination, tenacity and resilience—prove necessary while knowledge and patience are in the process of healing my brain from PTSD.

December, 1961
The telephone rings
It's Stuart's friend, Will, calling for me ...
We shoot the breeze for a while
He sounds really nice and smart
He's a sophomore in college
A pre med student
(Grandma loves that!)
Will asks me out for Saturday night, and
As I'm free, our first date is set
When Will tells me what we're going to do
I'm surprised
Pleasantly so
I mean ... I've never done this with a guy, before ...
Upon revealing that I enjoy this activity but
Am not very good at it, Will laughs, and
While listening to his good natured reassurances
I find myself looking forward to
Enjoying our first date with a sense of
Eagerness that makes me believe
Saturday night will offer up lots of fun ...

1195 ANNIE MEETS WILL Part 6

December 2014
The phone rings
It's Stuart's friend, Will, calling for me

Uh, just a minute—hold the phone—

2014
Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears, and please bear with me, for this reason:

My mind awoke, this morning, flowing with thoughts, which feel empowered to block my sense of freedom to write about my first date with Will.  The nature of these thoughts suggests intuition coaching me to clarify the ways in which deciphering dreams correlates with my brain's innate ability to hasten healing itself from PTSD.  So—if you're wondering as to which insights are in need of release, your guess is as good as mine … and having declared that I've no mindful clue as to which train of thought is about to pour, freely, naturally, out of my mind, let's see what stream of consciousness reveals, today:

Each time I awaken from a weirdly imaginative dreamscape, I remind myself of this fact:  Scientific study has proven that while we're dreaming, many components of our brains, functioning subconsciously, are interacting as a unified whole.  Therefore, if, while awakening, my sense of intuition nudges my power of curiosity to analyze a dreamscape (the content of which perplexes my intelligence), I'll work at reproducing the dream, scene by scene, before its set of highly imaginative, interactive details evaporates into nothingness.

Generally, I recite the dream aloud to Will, who listens or not.  More important than Will's attention to detail is my own, for this reason:  While listening to myself express the dream aloud, my sixth sense kicks in, and I find myself working to decipher outrageous details, each of which makes perfect sense once my intelligence catches wind of the fact that my subconscious is challenging my conscious mind to figure out a secret code that can be broken by no one but me!  Aha!  There's the first insight that intuition expressed a need to write.

Each time a dream challenges my conscious awareness to grasp an illusive detail, which may be associated with the traumatic secret, trapped within my subconscious, here's what happens:   My brain, functioning as an intelligent whole, works to loosen its hold on the paralysis that results when PTSD remains unhealed, or even worse, undiagnosed.  For example, I'd had no conscious clue that my fear of guys had stopped me from trying out for cheerleading, year after year.  I also had no clue how frightened I was every time I found myself alone in a car with a guy, who was driving me home after a date.  And right after writing that statement, a fleeting thought of babysitting flew into and out of my mind, as though my subconscious had just whispered:  Something happened in the car while the father drove me home, and as anxiety accompanied that fleeting ... memory(?) ... I Feel the need to ask:  Did my subconscious just slip another detail into my conscious mind?  Hopefully, it's becoming clear that those of you who have been following repetitive trains of thought in post after post have been watching my brain working, methodically, to heal itself from PTSD, one cautious, yet courageous step at a time.

Once again, chrysalis proves lengthy when layers of self protective denial thicken, instinctively, over decades.  And thus, in addition to courage—determination, tenacity and resilience—prove necessary if knowledge and patience are to win over PTSD in the end.

Each time my awareness delves into the mysterious realm of dreamscape, the cathartic exercise of speaking, writing, expanding upon and editing my innermost thoughts inspires insight into deeper truth to emerge, and as each illusive detail is retrieved, my intuitive belief of feeling my brain capable of healing itself continues to strengthen, within.  Thank goodness I can depend upon my line of control to stop fear from usurping authority over my entire think tank each time anxiety sparks PTSD to disrupt clarity of thought.

If you ask why a person must muster courage to heal from PTSD, I'd reply:  Each bout of PTSD arouses anxiety to differing degrees.  Upon feeling deeply anxious our brains are programed to turn off our think tanks, thus affording us the ability to divert every bit of mental and physical energy to fight, flee or freeze (as had proved necessary, long ago, when men, holding clubs came upon great beasts, who'd roamed the earth at will).  As long as anxiety is empowered to rouse human brain's ancient self-protective instinct to fight/flee/freeze, fear will fight intelligence for dominance over brain space unless our conscious minds grow practiced at achieving heightened levels of emotional control.  (When considering the timeline in relation to the overall development of the human brain, all I can say is this—Wow—talk about a lengthy period of chrysalis, right???).

Each time subconscious anxiety feels reason to spike, today, my intuition consciously instructs my courage to hold onto my intelligence, thus ensuring that surging PTSD does not gain control over too much of my brain space as had proven true when I'd felt the overwhelming need beat off Joseph's kiss—Or when my fear-based instinctive reaction pushed guys away at the end of a date—or when subconscious fear of finding myself vulnerable to attack by strange men strangled my hold onto intelligent thought, right before my Mom's 100th birthday party, which converged with Will's cancer surgery, last year.  I mean, who would have believed that deeper truth into the emergent nature of that matched set of emotional reactions had been directly related to the secret that proved so awful as to have been swallowed whole when a terrifying experience overwhelmed the cognitive capabilities of my think tank during childhood.

So—having taken this time to free my mind to express the ways in which PTSD influences that which takes place deep inside my brain whether I'm dreaming or awake, let's make good use of today's information as we begin to investigate the reason why Will chose to stick around long enough to hold me so gently as to calm my fear, suggesting why I did not struggle to fight him off when other guys, who'd compared my reactions to a building made of solid brick walls, had chosen to kiss me off at my front door, early on—I mean the fact that Will had made good use of his noodle to penetrate my defensive wall suggests your friend, Annie, being made of softer stuff than bricks, after all—right?

I'm happy and relieved to relate that
Will's first PSA test, since completion of
Radiation therapy, has decreased!
As to indulging in ice cream at Baskin Robbin—
Well ... Thoughts of dieting turn me off to that 😊
So, rather than ice cream, here's the plan:
We'll celebrate, tonight, at dinner with dear, supportive friends 😊

1194 ANNIE MEETS WILL Part 5

If you ask why yesterday's post aroused anxiety
I'd reply:
Having worked, determinedly, to strip away
 Many layers of defensive protection
The mere thought of exposing this secret to me
Stimulates mild eruptions of PTSD
Why mild eruptions?
Because at the same time that I've been
Working to strip away layers of denial
My sense of self trust continues to beef up

I mean, if we stop to think about it—
A person's inner strength grows obvious
When there's no need to cover vulnerability with bravado
Whatever I feel, you see …

Though my protective wall of denial had need to build
One defensive layer after another before
I'd instinctively fought off
Joseph's impassioned kiss when we were twelve—
Over recent years, my quest toward self trust has worked to
Dismantle that wall, one layer at a time

If you ask why Anxiety was not aroused while
Writing  First Kiss—
I'd reply:
At that earlier time, my defensive layers had been
So well fortified as to have penned that story as if
The girl, whose self-protective reaction had proved
Instinctive, had not been me
On the other hand, yesterday's post referenced
A dream that roused anxiety, simulating
'Something' that took place
During my junior in high school, when that unidentified
'Something' caused my itch to intensify to
The point of denying my conscious mind from
Relaxing enough to fall asleep—and
Though I can't consciously pinpoint whatever that
Unidentified experience proved to be
I do know why my heightened state of anxiety
Had reason to relax after
Stuart asked for my phone number, and I met Will

Though inner conflict between anxiety and courage
Fights for mind space to this very day
I thank the powers of intuition for
Guiding me toward engaging in
Sessions of EMDR therapy, which connect
My conscious sense of awareness with a growing sense of
Self trust, which encourages my subconscious to release
That dreaded secret one detail, at a time—

Since the mere thought of this secret stimulates
Anxiety to spike, I can see why denial
Blinds many so people from confronting reality! however
As long as our defense systems skirt around deeper truth
We remain stuck in dark places
As I refuse to remain stuck in dark places
You'll not see me shoving fear under the rug

If you ask why I work to confront
Subconscious fear, head on
I'd reply:
When I love, I love sincerely, whole-heartedly, completely
When I miss a loved one, my heart aches for re-connection
Once I've offered my love, it's yours, forever—
That's just my way—
And so if emotional complexity causes separation to take place
You'll see me seek to simplify complexity until
My brain, working as an effective whole, conceives of
A plan that offers a sense of
Personal safety to everyone concerned 

And having clarified an attitude as positively focused as that—
Let's see if my conscious awareness has re-absorbed the
Self confidence necessary to exhale that
Double dose of anxiety—which filtered through
My defensive wall when my dream, concerning
Cheerleading, connecting with testosterone, revealed
The subconscious fear which had blocked my desire to
Actively participate with a heartfelt sense of joy—
As long as fear invaded peace of mind, I remained
Emotionally paralyzed on the bench … year after year

Hopefully, if my connection to personal safety remains this strong
I'll feel free to write about my first date with Will, tomorrow … 

1193 ANNIE MEETS WILL Part 4

2014   4:15AM
It's dark as a black cat at midnight when, upon awakening before the crack of dawn
My eyes fly open, and feeling strangely unnerved, I glance
At the clock while my conscious mind is still emerging from this dream:

I am a cheerleader, standing alone on the
Fifty yard line of my high school football field
I'm in possession of the ball when, suddenly—
My defenseless stance faces
The entire football team, rushing toward me—
I feel paralyzed by fear for my well being …

OMG!

Though it's still so dark in my bedroom that
I can't see a thing, suddenly, clarity dawns, suggesting
My power of intuition pin pointing the inner conflict, which
Forbade me from trying out for cheer leading in high school:
While I'd consciously feared being rejected by the boys on the team
My subconscious harbored a fear of so much raw testosterone tackling—me!
Wow!
Insight into this dream shows my mind struggling to reconcile
Opposite fears, and thus does this sample of
Intuitive thought shine a spotlight upon
The paralyzing nature of inner conflict, which denied
My desire to participate actively, each fall, when
Tryouts rolled around:
While conscious of fearing rejection, I'd subconsciously
Feared exposing myself to male virility

So, here's the crux of my conflict:
Though aware of fearing male rejection
I'd no clue of how deeply I'd feared attracting male attention …
I mean, I'd wanted guys to feel attracted to me—didn't I?

And thus does clarity suggest that inner conflict creates
Complex dilemmas in this way:
As long as I'd remained unaware of two opposing forces tearing into
My personal sense of safety, I could not get off the bench and participate
Wholeheartedly—in anything relating to the dating game
And thus does insight into inner conflict identify the way that
Subconscious fear tackles the adventurous nature of the human spirit, which
Longs to fully explore and freely enjoy every aspect of love and life …

If you ask why this dream awakened me before
The crack of dawn, here is what I'd reply:
Whenever intuition coaches me to
Write a story, my subconscious feels stimulated
To reveal at least one more detail that
Mother Nature had thought to secret away from
My conscious sense of awareness until
Such time as I've developed the readiness to
Muster the courage to confront a memory, which has remained
In an unprocessed state since I was young—

The fact that writer's block continues to prohibit
My conscious mind from relating any high school story
Suggests that my sense of readiness has not yet developed
The courage necessary to en-courage my subconscious to reveal
Certain details, which had so terrified
My teen-aged sense of safety as to have
Remained repressed since my junior year—Huh!
Did I just write my junior year?
Why my junior year?
Because it was during my junior year that
All of my classes were shifted to afternoon, and ...
If you think to ask why that proved necessary
I'd reply:
'Something' dark and scary happened during
My junior year that caused my itch to
Grow so deeply intense as to keep
The depth of my angst wide awake, every night, until
Somewhere around 4AM, when, finally
My conscious mind would fall into
An exhausted but troubled state of sleep—

While writing that last train of thought—
A fleeting recollection of
'Baby sitting' for a specific family flew into my mind …
And suddenly, for some unidentified reason
My anxiety spiked ...

If you ask what caused my itch to grow out of
Control ... I can't recall anything other than that
Fleeting memory of babysitting for a specific family …
Yikes!
How might babysitting for that family feel associated with
That secret I can't consciously recall???

Interesting to note that, this morning
I awakened, shortly after 4AM, feeling
Strangely unnerved and itching to write—right?

Interesting to note that I still can't
Get my conscious mind to wrap around
A high school story unless a particular storyline
Leaps over any experience that took place before
My sense of safety chose to connect with Will

That last insight makes me believe that
The mere thought of being alone with any guy, before
Meeting Will, stimulates a sensation of
Unprocessed trauma, which must be
Associated with the secret that proves so
Horrific as to have paralyzed the portion of
my memory, which continues to
Feel so dominated by PTSD as to
Block my intelligence from absorbing so much as
A hint into deeper truth—except for something that's
Newly associated with baby sitting for that family … Geez …

Though writing offers me a vehicle that
Frees my brain to dive ever more deeply into
Memory than fear had allowed …
EMDR therapy continues to serve as
The key that empowers my conscious mind to
Muster the courage to turn
The ignition back on each time
My emergency brake locks that secret
Inside a mind-space which proves too
Dark and scary for my sense of clarity to explore—except for
Revealing one detail at a time—babysitting???

And now, if we return to the cheerleader in my dream whose
Conscious mind must muster the courage
To run for a first down while chased by a terrifying memory
That attempts to make me fumble the ball—
You may see why I feel in need of a cheer squad that
Does not rally the crowd to Boo each time
A rising tide of defensive fear tackles my courageous attitude, which
Over the long run, proves determined to heal the wounded portion of
My brain from relapsing into the clutches of PTSD

I guess today's post has been working to convey this train of thought:
Whenever anxiety tackles my desire to write a high school story
I hope you won't roll your eyes while my power of intuition is busy
Coaching my conscious mind to gain a sense of readiness to
Achieve sufficient yardage so as to run that ball straight down field where
A touchdown awaits—
You have no clue how often a spike of anxiety tried to steal the ball while
My conscious mind worked to write today's post …

1192 ANNIE MEETS WILL Part 3

Late Fall, 1961:
So anyway, if I'd been selected amongst
'The chosen few' in eighth grade then 'why'
Did I choose a passive role for
The next four years when
Intuition continued to prod me to get off the bench and
Declare myself worthy of satisfying
My desire to participate actively?

2014
If 'why?' proves to be
A most important question to answer when
Inner conflict causes self actualization to remain illusive
Then perhaps we must also think to ask: 'Why not?
Why not make good use of my brain to conceive of
A plan that simplifies emotional complexity so that
Inner conflict does not paralyze me, thus resulting in
My taking a passive role when reality points to this fact:
Each time I'd attend a game, my powers of intuitive thought 
Continued to coax my conscious mind to
Tunnel its way through negatively focused darkness in order to
Reignite the same degree of self confidence, which had
Inspired me to work toward achieving goals which had
Proved within my reach until fear of injury
Whether physical or emotional, forbade me to
Participate as wholeheartedly as had been true, early on

Though it's undeniable that certain injuries prove too severe
To repair, intuition guides my intelligence
To quest toward uncovering each fearsome detail of
My subconscious secret in hopes of
Healing the wounded portion of my mind
And now that my primary goal has shifted from
Denying my conscious mind access to that secret toward
Reclaiming lost portions of my self esteem
Intuition inspires my spirit with the readiness to
Muster the courage to direct my intelligence to engage in
Sessions of EMDR therapy until my brain, working as a whole
Makes effective use of its innate ability to repair
The portion of my memory, which is still paralyzed by PTSD

If you wonder where
Today's intuitive stream of conscious thought is leading us
So do I!  So, let's just go with the flow until a string of insights
Glows so bright as to illuminate another dark spot of fear, which
Thus far, has not seen fit to reveal itself in its entirety to me
And now that I've roused my curiosity ... Let's see, if
My sense of readiness can entice
My subconscious to reveal a detail to which 
My conscious awareness is still blind …
Ready?  Okay.  Let's  muster the courage to
Dive into the deep end of my mind in hopes of
Uncovering a detail that intuition
Instructs my intelligence to retrieve as I write:

December, 1961
The sophomore in college is Susie's boyfriend
Susie wanted to attend the game, and he'd complied
The guy's name is Stuart
Stuart, who has been watching me interact with my friends
Asks Susie for an introduction, and she complies
After we meet, Stuart asks:
So, Annie, do you have a boy friend?

I'd just broken up with a guy—uh—
Change that to:  A guy had just left me dangling—after
Kissing me off at my front door—
The last thing I remember him saying is that
I remind him of The Prudential Building
His sarcasm flies so far over my head that
I remember thinking—
Why do I remind him of a building???
After that, he just stops calling—
Leaves me dangling, so to speak
As it does not occur to me that each time
I'd respond to his goodnight kiss by
Tensing up and pushing him away
I'd rejected him, time and again
So, when he fails to call
I believe he has rejected me, because, well—
He's a good looking guy, and being rejected by guys is
What I've grown accustomed to …

Anyway—I answer Stuart's question with:
I'm not dating anyone, right now
Stuart asks if he can give my phone number to a friend
I smile and say, sure …
As long as my perspective remains limited—
It does not occur to me to question
Why I do not prove dateless for long …

1191 ANNIE MEETS WILL Part 2

December, 1961
I am a senior at our high school basketball game
I am watching the cheerleaders
I feel a strong yearning to be with them
This yearning is not new
Ever since freshman year, intuition, which
Is attempting to guide me to free my deepest self, has
Drawn me to be with them
This calling had been mine For more than four years
Why?
Because I was a cheerleader in junior high
I'd tried out and felt elated to find myself
One of the select few numbered amongst 'the chosen'
And if that was true of me, then, then why do I
Take such a passive role, now?
I believe 'why?' to be a most important question, especially
When self actualization proves to be an illusive goal ...
As in 'why me?' Or 'why not?'

Fall of 1958
It is the first time our school has ever selected cheerleaders
Everyone in eighth grade is all a twitter, and lots of girls try out
I remember my elation when, standing before the bulletin board
In the hall, my eyes land on my name listed amongst 'the chosen'
My spirit flies home on cloud nine; I can't wait to tell my parents of
My good fortune—Wow!  A cheerleader!  Me!!!!
During every practice session, my spirit cheers with
The utmost of enthusiasm
My leaps and jumps are as high as my smile is wide
I have arrived at a place where my spirit thrives—and
All is well until the day when
We cheer at our first junior high game, where
All eight of us are embarrassed for this reason:
Though every other school has sanctioned
Thigh-high pleated skirts, that is not true of our junior high
We have to wear Bermuda shorts thus
Insuring that modesty prevails ... Geez Louise!
Then, embarrassment goes from
Bad to worse, at least that's true for me:
I'd been selected for the cheer squad after my
Disastrous first kiss had taken place in the alley with Joseph—
So though the girls, who make up the cheer squad, have
Fully embraced me into their sisterhood that's not true of
The less popular boys, whose low self esteem
Follows whatever dictate has been sanctioned by
The leader of the team—namely—Joseph …

So, it's our first game
And I'm happily engaged in cheering until
We decide to do one particular cheer—
During this cheer, each boy on the team is named by
A cheerleader, who steps in front of the line for a brief solo
The name assigned to me is Brent
My solo goes like this:
Brent, Brent, he's our man, if he can't do it, no one can!
When it's my turn to step out in front of the cheer line
My spirit sings out with my solo:
Brent, Brent, he's our man, if he can't do it, no one can!
I catch Brent's eye and toss him a sparkling smile
In return, Brent glances at Joseph, who is glaring at me, and
Next thing I know, Brent, taking his cue from Joseph
Glares at me, too
At thirteen, it does not occur to me that being one of
The less popular boys makes a follower of Brent
At thirteen, what do I know of girls and guys, who
Harbor issues with low self esteem? 
So, just as fast as that double glare pierces my heart, twice
My spirit deflates—and for the rest of the year—
I fear naming any boy when it's time for
My solo during that cheer … and the piercing weight of
That fear is empowered to deflate my spirit, game after game

Now that fear of backlash born of Joseph's wrath
Has created inner conflict within my mind 
My spirit isn't into cheering as had once been true
So, as eighth grade graduation nears
I am quiet whenever
The rest of the cheer squad chatters, animatedly, about
Trying out for the frosh squad when we get to high school …
Though more than anything, my heart wants to go for it
My self confidence has been shot down by fear of rejection—
Not rejection from making the squad—rejection from the guys
And thus does my battle with inner conflict cause
My spirit to deflate too much to take me to
The gym on the day when try outs are scheduled to take place, so
Throughout the next four years—while yearning to be
An active participant, I am blind to this fact:
Reality suggests that my lack of courage is born of
A negative attitude, and since I have benched myself after
Deeming myself unworthy of participating, joyfully
I can be seen on the sidelines in the stands, year after year

December 1961
I am a senior in high school
Standing just behind the sidelines of the basketball court
It is half time
I am watching the senior cheer squad, which
Includes one girl, Julie, from my junior high squad
While they are leaping, chanting and rousing the crowd
I am lost in my thoughts when another classmate from
Junior high, Susie, approaches me with a guy, who
Has asked to meet me—
It's the guy who is a college sophomore …
So, what, you may ask, is a college man
Doing at a high school game?
And, what does he want with me?