Hmmm ... I've been working on penning this post for days ... trying to figure out why mental resistance is blocking my story teller from coloring in the first story that my conscious mind longs to draw forth from my memory, concerning raising each of my sons to value the development of self disciplined thought patterns by watching me demonstrate that their mother had committed to developing the same. However, I've found that pressuring my memory to unlock before readiness is mine heightens frustration, and as frustration arouses my defense system to balk, thus stimulating mental tension to bulk up, I can understand why my thought processor's capacity to brainstorm with clarity, born of common sense, has clammed up, and resultant of this negative cycle, my bulked up sense of resistance continues to close the door on my story teller's natural sense of eagerness to write, leaving my intelligence faced with this choice: I can persist in pushing against my defense system, exacerbating this tightening of mental tension (which, narrows my thought processor's natural ability to relax and think expansively, resulting in blocking my intelligence from considering all options available to me—or I can choose to listen to common sense, cautioning my defense system to relax in order to free intuitive thought to release strings of insight, which, upon floating brightly through my subconscious filter (which transforms my Tunnel of Resistance into a Tunnel of Readiness), will direct my conscious mind to reconsider the possibility of heeding a courageous sense of self awareness that persists in suggesting that the time to embrace yet another personal growth spurt has been ripening on the vine for quite some time ...
Each time I muster the patience to offer intuitive thought time to percolate, while making its way through my Tunnel of Readiness, where insight (needing time to formulate into conscious thought), offers me a fresh perspective, my mental tension relaxes, naturally. And once tension relaxes, my thought processor has an open freeway upon which to send strings of insight, which having had time to filter through subconscious memory, offer my conscious mind reason to broaden and brighten its scope, concerning the absorption of deeper truth, floating freely to the surface of my awareness, thus inviting all of me to wholly embrace the readiness, necessary, to receive a clear view of yet another negatively focused, fear-based attitude, stored subconsciously, which had blocked my intelligence from ironing out a misperceived wrinkle, concerning my self image, which, having been lugged forward from childhood, till now, has had need of epiphany's bright flash of insight (concerning my character), to blow the lid off of the subconscious memory that had fueled dark clouds of confusion-creating tension to rain on my parade, overlong. Whew!
Each time a new stream of consciousness rolls out of my mind, this unfinished product resembles the pieces of a puzzle, poured out on the table, in need of methodical rearranging until a fully formed picture appears, which my mind can clearly, thus readily, absorb ... And that thought makes me conceive of how much time it takes for the formulation of insight to puzzle through piecing together 'forgotten' moments in memory by traveling past defensive resistance through my Tunnel of Readiness, this culminating in my conscious awareness formulating a picture, which my conscious mind had never seen with such clarity until my mental acuity, concerning emotional complexity, had developed ... Double whew!
*Perhaps, my resistance to readiness is awaiting the reveal of yet another childhood fear, secreted within my subconscious, blocking my intelligence from identifying a frustration that still clouds my thought processor's mental acuity, today. And as intuitive thought is expressing itself with clarity, right now, let's tap into insights, traveling in slo-mo through my Tunnel of Readiness, in hopes that by concentrating wholly upon exposing a deeper sene of subconscious truth to my conscious sense of self awareness, my story teller's mind/stylus connection will be enhanced ...
Uh wait—on second thought ... let's hold on for a minute, because the paragraph penned before this last one felt so deep as to make me suspect that, upon reviewing that train of thought, a whale of editing may prove necessary—perhaps, tomorrow ... or if tomorrow proves too busy (because I'll be enjoying Ravi), I'll backtrack sometime during the weekend, which, with house guests arriving on Friday, proves packed with fun, as well.
I'd edit, now, but for the fact that I can feel insights, leaping like jumping beans, insistent upon tumbling out of a pocket in my mind, suggesting that the iron is hot to straighten out more wrinkles, concerning my self perception, and as seeing into myself more clearly, today, than had been possible, yesterday, makes sense to me, I'll listen to intuitive thought directing my conscious mind to free my stylus to leap all over my keyboard, as if each insight, which leads to the next, is quacking away like a steady stream of ducks, lining up in a row, eager to cross to the other side of the street, where my growing sense of wholeness strengthens whenever a train of thought pulls into each next station where a greater sense of peace of mind (concerning Know Thyself) waits to welcome me to feel ever more at home ... with my self perception ...
So, let's set editing aside in favor of heeding readiness's intuitive need to release a fresh string of insights by offering my brain free rein to do whatever comes naturally while the iron is hot to trot, and hopefully, this next emergent string of insights, which is rousing my curiosity, will lead my storyteller's sense of readiness to experience natural childbirth—I mean natural storybirth (See what happens once coils of inner tension receive permission to relax? My natural sense of corniness pops out just like a Jack in the box ...
And as that's the case, I think it best to pull into the station and give my brain a rest ... as to insights popping, I'll be sure to make notes during the day, which is my way, anyway ...
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