As intuitive thought is still resistant to describing two weeks in paradise
I'll stop trying to force that issue in favor of relaxing my conscious mind to
Focus on whatever my stylus decides to write, today ...
I mean, what if intuitive resistance (not to be confused with anxious resistance)
Is alerting my conscious mind to the fact that unfinished business is still
Percolating, deep within subconscious tunnels of my brain, and
With that thought in mind, common sense suggests relaxing my focus toward
Switching tracks in hopes that, over night, intuitive thought has cooked up
Nourishing tidbits of insight that we can sample by entering
The inner sanctum of my brain, which simulates shopping at Costco, where
Stuff seems to jump into my cart that I'd no conscious clue of needing until
I actually see this or that laid out before me, begging to improve my life, so
Let's get a cart and see which strings of insight turn up as my intuitive powers
Shop through the super emporium of the brain that lives inside my head ...
First off, I wonder if you've been wondering why strings of insight, concerning the inter-relatedness of my subconscious anxieties have been surfacing so frequently, recently. In fact, I've wondered about that, myself, until intuition whispered this train of thought into my ear: Over most of my life, fate offered my defense system sound reason to add layers to my wall of denial so as to block my conscious awareness from scary secrets, stored subconsciously, until fate, swooping down, repeatedly, decided to favor my expansive sense of self confidence with reason to muster the courage that proves necessary to grow ever more determined to know myself in depth, and as, over time, my conscious ability to muster courage coaxed opaque layers of defensive denial to grow ever more translucent, closed mindsets, which had turned a blind eye to considering new ideas, concerning my need to create change for the better, began to open, thus gifting my conscious mind with unexpected growth spurts of self awareness as intuitive thought, tunneling toward those secrets, caught glimpses of fears to which I'd been blind, and eventually, armed with courage, my power of intuition stoked my conscious mind with trains of thought that conveyed one secret fear after another from subconscious storage until pieces of baggage that weighed heavy on my spirit filtered into my conscious awareness and once I came to see how often intuitive thought tunneled successfully when my calm sense of patience remained intact, I began to view sudden spikes of anxiety as messengers, signaling my thought processor to remain relaxed but alert, so as not to rouse tension that would surely cause the frequency of my brsin's self-powered intuition to stop streaming, naturally, on its own, and that thought coaxed my conscious awareness to grow ever more attentive to those times when spiking anxiety had seemed to make little sense because of this fact: Each strike of anxiety, which lasted over long, seemed exaggeratedly disproportionate to whatever was currently taking place in my life, and once intuitive thought spotlighted that insight, my curiosity peaked, and thus did I consciously begin to wonder how many (inter-related) unprocessed fears, one breeding the next, had been born inside my head when Janet died, asleep in her buggy ...
Next thing I 'knew' intuitive thought seemed to slide into home plate in direct proportion to how much my conscious mind could tolerate strikes of anxiety instead of tensing up at bat when fate seemed to aim an unexpected curve straight at my head, and the more I placed my faith in taming anxiety without Having pinpointed that which was disturbing my peace of mind, the more empowered my intuition felt to wander (while the rest of my smarts slept soundly through the night) ever more deeply into subconscious memory where the haunting nature of childhood's unprocessed fears remain secreted until a person decides to work at developing heightened levels of emotional intelligence, which empowers an individual to tolerate inexplicable onslaughts of anxiety, bordering on panic attacks (which hindsight suggests had been repressed, awaiting release, deep within the wounded portion of my brain over most of my life).
It's as if latent attacks of yesteryear's hot spots of anxiety had been stored in an anesthetized (not euthanized) state within canisters with lengthy fuses, which had been awaiting igniting in similar fashion as is true of canisters containing highly explosive fireworks, which are released, explosively on the 4th of July ... And now that my internal detective has grown ever more successful at spotlighting one canister after another, negatively focused self assessments, which have been in serious need of restructuring since I was three, feel free to leap out of subconscious storage for this reason: My defensive wall has had reason to grow ever more transparent when fate offers up one reason or another for repressed hot spots of anxiety to electrify to the same intense degree as had been true when I was a terrified child, suggestive of this fact: Once the combustible nature of emotional fireworks, condensed and secreted within a subconscious canister, feels reason to explode, another emergent detail, concerning my history, bursts threw whatever's left of my wall of denial, lighting up the sky with a clarified view of yet another unprocessed fear that had pricked at my well being for so long as to offer my state of wonderment an epic sense of release as conscious acknowledgment of a negatively focused fear unchains my brain from experiencing that particular, outdated pattern of anxiety, and the calm of inner peace that follows the explosive release of each long-repressed emotional storm, brewing within, overlong offers such relief that my spirit leaps for joy to know that my brain is as capable of healing itself (with astute professional help) as was true of my ruptured colon, once an astute surgical team had tunneled within my abdomen to exorcise the portion of that organ, which had suffered severe internal injury on a stormy night during a head-on collision with fate ... and so you can see that once the eye of the internal tornado within my head has been fully exposed and exorcized, the inner conflict that causes so much restless tension to build up throughout my body will relax, offering the sum of the parts of my exhausted brain to function, much more often as a well balanced whole, and until that's the case—intuitive thought, which cautions my mental weariness to relax in down time for as long as needs be, will encourage the sum of my self-empowered strengths to continue to work together, rebuilding a reinforced structure of well balanced thinking, speaking and listening patterns that will provide the voice of my expansive comfort zone with change for the better over the rest of my uniquely, self reliant life ... And that's the plan that has just been placed in the oven to bake, concerning how intuitive trains of thought will best guide my conscious awareness to continue to switch tracks from negatively focused, anxiety provoking, self assessments, which prove over reactive toward enjoying my future years in a fashion that offers a greater sense of mental relaxation than ever before! Hallalooyah! WHEW! Pulling that train of thought into the station was quite a workout!
Before closing up shop for today, let's sample a series of inter-related, unprocessed fears that have unconsciously haunted my conscious mind pretty much forever: I've worried, not just about dying in my sleep (like Janet), but dying all by my lonesome, because, having misperceived myself as so imperfect as to feel safest when cloaked in invisibility, it makes sense that I'd felt daunted by the unconscious fear that no one would have reason to minister to emotional wounds that rarely surfaced or attend my funeral or miss my (invisible) presence once I was gone, forever ... And as I'd subconsciously harbored the unprocessed fear of finding myself dead in a bed, all alone, with my life spent for naught, my narrow comfort zone had unknowingly limited my intelligent thought processor from deviating from this unprocessed choice: Strive for nothing less than perfection and glow in the center ring—or—failing at perfection, throw my shattered self confidence in the garbage. And resultant of the severity of those polarized choices, guess what took center stage once I grew up and thoroughly enjoyed teaching as my chosen profession, whence I perceived of myself as The Pied Piper of children? My rusty, dusty leadership skills (which fearing failure had failed to develop sometime after kindergarten) as though from the grave ... So hip hip hooray for intuitive thought leading my conscious awareness toward creating change for the better within my self assessment, first within a classroom filled with ten year old fifth graders, where my curious nature, love of learning and high spirited, corny sense of humor felt so joyously at home that the joyful spirits of twenty children fell in love with my own until, eventually, fate threw a challenge across my path, causing this fifth grade teacher, extraordinaire, reason to trash her imperfect self, all over again, because, as a beginner adult I'd had no clue that it was fate's classic responsibility to test my acceptance of my very human imperfections, repeatedly, until I grew ever more conscientiously aware of reason to re-evaluate the most negative aspects of my self assessment, which had proved in need of this make over: Rather than trashing myself for making imperfection's mistakes, I'd had need to embrace this mantra, concerning employing change for the better, ever since fate had thrown its first curve ball, traveling at breakneck speed, smack into the think tank of a highly impressionable, deeply traumatized child of three:
Own each mistake-humbly correct it-kiss and make up with myself-move forward ...
Repeat—as I would with a highly valued, deeply loved friend ...
PS
If you believe that common sense suggests the wisdom of
My conscious mind adopting such a positively focused
Train of intuitive thought then doesn't deeper truth suggest that
Consciously choosing to adopt that same train of thought provides
Your think tank with a healthy change for the better, as well ...
Most especially when deeper truth suggests that you, like me
Prove to be a human Earthling, who is bound to
Move through each stage of life, lugging forward
Childhood's unprocessed and thus, unresolved fear of
Messing up, signaling your negatively focused
Defensive system to exacerbate this polarized inner conflict:
Honor your personal needs or mess up your life and
The lives of everyone you love—thus limiting your comfort zone
Which proves in need of expansion so that you can finally
Stop spikes of subconscious anxiety from erupting from
Deep within your brain, which tires from suppressing frustration
That continues to build up behind your
Wall of denial, where repression of personal needs can only
Remain chained to the past until fate offers your mental match
Sound reason to coach your intelligence to awaken to
The highly unique, deeply valuable person, whom you've grown up to be ...
Picture yourself in a darkened theater, watching a well-written thriller in which
The main character stands before an unlocked door, behind which
Joy, associated with heightened levels of emotional intelligence, beckons
To welcome a wearied warrior home—what would you, sitting and munching
Freshly popped popcorn, coax that strong, courageous, unique individual to do?
We are, one and all, the authors of our very own life stories ...
And having worked courageously to re-evaluate my self assessment while
Working to regain sound use of my self assertive (sometimes downright
Sassy) better balanced voice, tis time for my true life adventure (which
Has been directed as much by choice as by fate), to turn the page and
Begin to pen the final chapter, where a happy ending waits to be written ...
And I hope the same is true of your adventure into the great unknown, too ...
No comments:
Post a Comment