1350 INSIGHTS THAT BEGAN POPPING OUT ONCE INNER TENSION RELAXED ...

INSIGHTS THAT BEGAN POPPING OUT ONCE INNER TENSION RELAXED ...
(But first, a word from our sponsor:  My first swipe at editing post 1340 has been done ...)

Okay, here come fully formed insights, which were scribbled on notes while yours truly went about my business of enjoying life as yesterday unfolded, hour by hour ...

Perhaps, the conscious portion of my mind chose to listen to my children's concerns with a sense of hyper-vigilance (especially once they'd calmed down in time out after acting out) for this reason:  My sixth sense harbored hopes of guiding each one toward identifying unmet needs, which may have proved too complex for the undeveloped thought processor of a child to understand, much less express with words.  If you asked:  Annie, how often did your 'little voice, inside 'talk to your conscious mind?  I'd reply:  About as often as your little voice speaks to you with this caveat:  Over time, I came to differentiate between two little voices, which caused my head to ache with inner conflict:  My defensive voice, which kept my trains of thought cycling round dark visions of the future, based in fear vs my intuitive voice, which directed my trains of thought to switch tracks away from defensiveness in order to chug forward, stoked with positive focus that colored in sunlit visions of my ability to brainstorm toward the creation of plans, offering change for the better ... And if you ask how my conscious mind learned to listen for insight, which had not yet emerged from the intuitive portion of my mind, I'd reply:  the more my conscious mind learned about the interactive parts of my brain, the more in tune my awareness became with my subconscious signaling me to develop a greater degree of awareness as to which little voice was speaking to me ... The voice based in my defense ststem's negatively focused fear of failure or the voice fortified by positively focused courage, and each time I followed the voice, empowered with courage, my conscious awareness grew less fearful of gleaning insight into secrets that Mother Nature had thought best to repress within my subconscious, which had terrified me during childhood.

Since, subconsciously,  I 'knew' which of my emotional needs had remained locked up and silenced within an unidentified state of suspended petrifaction, and since the intuitive  portion of my brain did not want that to happen for my free spirited sons (and though my conscious awareness had no clue of my need to find the missing 'key', which would open a door in my brain where My inquisitive intelligence would feel naturally compelled to quest toward exposing the main root of my buried fear to my conscious mind), my brain, working as well-balanced whole, compiled (and absorbed) a library of child rearing books, which, one day, led me to read several books, concerning an adult need to work, diligently, to clue into oneself, detail by detail, until strings of emergent insight fired off an epiphany that spotlighted the original, repressed fear of failure, which had swallowed a self assertive portion of every adult's voice when our thought processors were too undeveloped to comprehend emotional complexities, which still confound our common sense, today.

Perhaps, I encouraged my children to develop (and practice making sound use of) the self assertive portion of their voices, because my power of intuition had 'known', that fear of frowns had caused the natural development of a portion of my self assertive voice to retreat into a pocket of my subconscious at the vulnerable age of three, and as long as that portion of my voice remained repressed and caged behind my defensive wall of denial, the vulnerable child I had been could not ask for help each time a terrifying experience tore into my sense of physical safety, leaving my self respect in shreds ... And as long as my voice was silent and my self respect felt torn away, shred by shred, all I could do to express the depth of my mental confusion, inner conflict and emotional distress, concerning my lack of emotional safety, was to watch my body send forth this SOS, during sleepless nights,  year in and year out, and thus did I itch to get out of my skin, causing a sweet natured, blue eyed, little girl to scratch herself raw until she drew blood ... In short, my body, sent out smoke signals of unvoiced desperation, persistently, throughout my prepubescence, throughout my teen years and deep into my college experience by firing up an itch that burned into my psyche more intensely than words can describe... until the marriage bed sanctified that which I had no conscious memory of having participating in until EMDR therapy awakened my anesthetized awareness by unlocking that blocked portion of my memory bank, which continues to withdraw one repressed (forgotten)  detail, at a time ... And having penned that last string of insights, I finally know why my subconscious, acting like an experienced jockey, holding a tight rein, insisted that intuitive thought suppress my story teller's readiness to gallop forth from the gate until certain insights cleared away the sense of fogginess, which has blocked my storyteller from seeing the light of day until a spotlight highlighted the primary reason why my sons grew up, respecting my listening skills, which continue to offer each them an open-minded ear while my voice, asking questions, taps into their voice of intuitive thought, which, upon flowing naturally out of their depths, simplifies their comprehension of complex emotion, which continues to surface, today.  I mean, for sound reason, my rule of thumb has been:  Remain mum and listen intently until readiness fires the gun, freeing common sense to run straight toward home plate (Please ... Let's not quibble about mixed metaphors, or I'll be re-editing this post, forever!)

Perhaps, each emergent string of insights that has guided my conscious mind to dive ever more deeply into my past (in hopes of freeing the self-assertive ... not to be confused with sel-fish ... stances, which I'm capable of voicing with clarity, today), demonstrates the acuity of intuitive sensitivity (which my awareness has chosen to develop) that releases strings of insight, which direct my conscious mind to listen up when my subconscious fires off signals that inner strengths, concerning my comprehension of emotional complexity, have developed the readiness necessary to open my mind to receive secrets, which I'd kept from myself until the time felt ripe to take each next small step forward toward the leap of faith that proves necessary to repair my broken sense of self, which had been shattered during early-childhood experiences that had seriously injured my innate sense of self confidence at times when the extreme reactiveness of a beloved adult (or a bullying gang of boys) had frightened my belief in my self worth half to death, and from that time on, the unhealed portion of my misperceived self accessment (now grown to adulthood), has had no clue of harboring a deeply repressed need to repair the wounded portions of my psyche from subconscious submission to a lifetime-sentence-of-undeserved-guilt, which destroys peace of mind each time the unhealed-portion-of-my-inner-child's-buried-fear-of-unworthiness entertains so much as an inkling of a thought about doing anything that would make any loved one frown harshly, angrily, and condemningly, indefensively judgmentally, in my direction, again.  And thus did a haunting (clarity daunting) sense of undeserved guilt arise, like a ghost-like death threat from the past, sending shivers of unresolved anxiety down my remorseful adult/child's spine whenever an independent thought of my own differed from parent tapes, absorbed, decades ago, at my mother's or father's knee ...

 As volatile emotional battles for dominance had been common within my early childhood home, my peace of mind had reason to go to war with subconscious anxiety, over most of my hyper vigilant life for this reason:  Behind my ready smile, a defensive wall of denial had layered up, behind which lurked a ghost from the past, empowered to scare my common sense half to death until EMDR therapy encouraged my adult intelligence to shore up mental strengths, which, session by session, have successfully worked to identify and exorcise the emergent nature of latent guilt from its subteraneous throne, where it usurped control over my balanced sense of self, and once I began to sense each deeply repressed, emotional injury (which had left portions of my self esteem festering rawly and fearfully, subconsciously), my mental block against my true self worth unlocked, and ever since I began to engage my conscious mind with SESSIONS OF EMDR, the emergence of deeper truth, surfacing within spotlights of insights, has offered me reason retrieve my lost sense of inner peace, which my quest to enhance self awareness continues to piece together as each detail of fearsomely 'forgotten' memories re-emerge, and thus do I say:  Amen having reclaimed and made good use of my self assertive little voice in recent years, suggesting my ability to express complex  emotional revelations in words that clarify each stream of consciousness, which feels as profoundly self-healing as is true of this train of intuitive thought to which you play witness, today.  WHEW! 

*At this moment, clarity suggests that today's stream of intuitive thought has been guiding me to say that on a daily basis, emergent strings of insight inspired my conscious mind to raise my trio of sons in such an open minded manner as to invite each one to place a high value upon working to heal injured parts of their psyches more readily than is true of the human species, which, generally, walks through life, blind to mental blocks, concerning raw wounds, festering, within subconscious pockets of our minds, and as mental blocks divide our minds into two separate parts, inner conflicts erupt, which is why inner peace gives way to anxiety whenever a personal decision to consider an unmet need differs from parental tapes that frown inside our heads, and once we can rewind play back the specific moment in time when a beloved parent's behavior declared us unworthy of love, we can stop sinning our wheels in a rut made of guilt that muddies up our sense of clarity, concerning common sense.

As soon as intuitive thought enlightens my conscious mind as to where to start the story that I've been longing to write, my storyteller/jockey will loosen its tight grip on the reins ... And as my stylus flies from letter to letter, all over my keyboard, all you'll need do to watch my past unfold before your eyes is to focus your attention on pictures, drawn with words, which are sure to appear, first on my screen and then on yours  ... The question that my conscious mind is blocked from answering, as of yet, is:  When?

*Hmmm ... Perhaps, the story won't unfold smoothly until insights, which are still flowing freely, have cleared certain rocks out of whatever has been damming up my stream of thought, for example:  Do you know why a child's contradictive personality traits are formed by the age of five?  By the age of five, each child has experienced the confounding nature of mimicking extreme emotional reactions (some warranted, some not) emoting from adult temper tantrums, which frighten the startle reflex, inherent within the nervous system of every newborn babe in arms ... Then, with the passage of time, if the starle reflex has been fearfully shocked into a suspended sense of emotional repression, everyone comes to expect this child's 'mask' of perfection as being real, through and through, while a sibling's defensive mask draws a frown on his or her face, and with time, these emotional patterns may seem to feel as though positive and negative character traits of each sibling are now and forever set in stone ... However, stone crumbles when defensive walls tumble down, and everyone is shocked to see a person's real life, multi-dimensional traits, including subconscious vulnerabilities, flying around ...

I'm here to say:  Our traits are not set in stone ... Because ...
In its natural state, the thought processor of the human brain is capable of firing off insight, inspiring layers of defensive walls to melt down, thus expanding brain space to welcome and absorb change for the better, based in common sense, forever ...

When my dad said:  I'm too old to change ...
My mom replied:  Well, I'm not dead, yet!

Nuff food for thought, for today?
Not a chance, as long as intuitive thought is on a roll ...

Perhaps a small child, condemned to feeling extremely guilty, undeservedly, will grow up, turn a corner and bump into Socrates, whose spirit swooshes down, here and there, pointing the finger of fate at those who, for reasons, as yet unknown, harbor an intuitive need (as is true of one and all) to learn to work to heal themselves from emotional injury incurred during childhood ... And perhaps, intuition directs we fingered folks grow up to be teachers, psychologists or psychiatrists, fated to encourage others to quest toward healing, as well ... Or perhaps Socrates whispers words of wisdom into every ear, but some tune in early on while others have experienced reason to erect defensive walls made up of so many layers as to turn a deaf ear, forever ... So sad but true ...

I guess intuitive thought is suggestive of my asking which group best fits you ...