Finally!
Upon awaking, today, feeling more restless than restive
My power of intuition wriggled its head out of its cocoon to say
Annie, listen up! My absence has been a message in and of itself
Your spirit can’t jumpstart its lost sense of energy until
Your brain stops sending messages of longing for
Change that’s not yours to control no matter how
Positively focused your self empowered trains of thought prove to be
Aha—I mused—with a hopeful sigh of release
Perhaps this most current onset of malaise has been
The next step regarding my growing aware of the depths of
My resistance, concerning retiring The Fixer, which
Having comprised the greater portion of my self worth, continues to
Wrestle against the intuitive arousal of this deeper truth:
Over a lifetime, The Fixer’s prime time rises, peaks and sets ...
And perhaps a lasting sense of inner peace, which tends to come and go
Will be my just reward once my think tank feels so relaxed with
What I have accomplished as to wholly reconcile with reality, concerning
My choice to freely pass the baton of prime time to my sons, each of whom
Proves capable of accepting it with the strong hearted mindfulness of spirit that
Deeper truth suggests has been my long range goal to pass forward, and
With today's string of insights spotlighting my growing acceptance of
My existential placement (as well as theirs) on our family’s timeline
Today's post offers up that which my intuitive voice feels inclined to
Express for now—except for one more awareness, which
Leads me to believe that only the head of my intuition has managed to
Wriggle forth from its cocoon, hinting that this string of insights serves as
The appertif to whet my whistle for more, and as
My intelligence feels slightly inebriated as thoughts soaked in
Mental clarity serve to ignite the first spark of positively focused energy that
My spirit has felt over the past seven days, my conscious awareness, which
Has been dragging ever since Thanksgiving when my intuitive voice
Felt need to spin its cocoon so as to concentrate my mental energies upon
Submerging so deep as to emerge with deeper truth, concerning this
Current growth spurt spurring metamorphosis another step forward, has
Just reminded my sense of wholeness that every meaningful change in
Character development is a step-by-step process, and ...
Aha!
Here it comes—the insight that My Fixer's reluctance to
Leave center stage has blocked my conscious mind from
Peaceably embracing as my deeper truth until
Inner conflict—so strong as to refuse intuitive clarity center stage for
Months—chose to step into the wings, clearing the way for
My relaxed sense of existential wholeness to confront
The existence of a closed mindset, which had subconsciously offered
My fear of human vulnerability a way to feel safe since the age of three:
My life's work as Pied Piper, leading three Mouseketeers toward
Donning the mantle of full-fledged adulthood, has been
Standing clearly before me, and not only can my life's work
Stand on its own but my mental intelligence and
Emotional intelligence can rest assured that
Each of my three sons has offered proof countless times
Over mamy years of having grown fully capable of captaining
Their ships through whatever storms life casts in their paths, and
Here's the most peaceable insight of those with which intuition has
Relaxed The Fixer's stubborn need to control center stage until, today:
If and when storm clouds gather, these three musketeers will not
Feel need to wrestle with fate all alone—and—neither will I as I age
And as fearing facing storms all alone has been true of me since
The vulnerable age of three, today's intuitive string of insights
Offers my rested mind reason to feel thankful that whatever else
I choose to accomplish at this stage of my life is—gravy!
Thursday, November 30, 2017
Thursday, November 23, 2017
ON GROWTH SPURTS AND THANKSGIVING
Today’s intuitive train of thought, being penned on Thanksgiving, November 23rd, 2017, has added significance to my family as this date commemorates the 76th anniversary of my parents’ wedding, and as their love for each other led to the births of many of my loved ones, who plan to gather at Steven’s home in the desert or Barry’s home on the west coast where we’ll celebrate the fact that throughout each stage of life, Lady Luck has smiled at each of us much more often than not.
Upon awakening, this morning, my first thought was to light the ovens in readiness to heat all of the sides, which had been refrigerated following my well-organized pattern of cooking and baking, day by day, ensuring my feeling rested and festive when we ring Steven’s door bell, holding white Corning dishes, filled with piping hot, ready-to-serve family favorites in hand.
My second thought was to ask you, on this day of Thanksgiving, to ponder upon mental growth spurts, which, though naturally absorbed by children, do not come easy for adults ... and with that thought lingering in the air, mingling with the tantalizing aroma of savory knishes teasing my taste buds with thoughts of feasting with extended family, who, having chosen to make their homes close to ours, feel as eager to enjoy this year’s spread to the max, as each one has prepared (or bought) a dish that has been a favorite of their immediate family, for years.
As I once expressed to Barry, who, feeling disappointed about something for which he’d held me accountable during a holiday about a dozen years back: Each time some aspect of human vulnerability fails to achieve your personal perception of perfection, there’s a lesson to be gleaned in the aftermath by way of open discussion so that humility, listening calmly to the voice of disappointment, absorbs emotional reactions expressed on all sides, offering everyone involved the opportunity to deepen each one’s understanding of how best to switch tracks from narrow mindsets that accomplish nothing more than casting blame, back and forth, toward embracing positive attitudes, focused upon creating change for the better by brainstorming more expansively (out of the box), the next time we all come together.
"The only real mistake is the one from which we learn nothing."
—John Powell
As in the aftermath of our heartfelt discussion a bigger picture emerged, peace of mind had reason to smile between parent and adult offspring; then years later, my peace of mind had reason to deepen upon hearing that same train of thought expressed every bit as calmly and patiently by Barry to Tony and Ray ... so though my children have grown to adults, this is one mare whose self worth doth not fear being put out to pasture for several reasons: First of all, I've grown ever more mindful of need to seek insight into bigger pictures in hopes of easing my changing placement in the circle of family life by employing intelligence to consciously embrace an attitude of open-mindedness that will consistently heed the voice of intuitive awareness, concerning need to brace my defense system to hurtle mental growth spurts that don’t come easy as we age, and with this proactive plan in mind, I'll continue to stoke my spirit's sense of self empowerment (not to be confused with entitlement) each time I become aware of need to say sorry or hold forth another baton, which proves in a state of readiness to pass forward as the circle of life advances in haste, as clearly as is true of late—no brakes in plain sight—and hopefully, the conscientious nature of this plan may save my sons from experiencing a build up of angst that proves classic when the aging process gangs up on beloved parents.
Once again, tis fitting that, while penning today’s intuitive train of thought on Thanksgiving, my sense of clarity, concerning my desire to enhance peace of mind all around, reflects my belief that cajoling, demanding, or commanding in punitive or passive aggressive ways pushes loved ones away, whereas true leadership, assuming the role of self-motivated guide, hopes to inspire change for the better, little by little, by modeling attitudes based in positively focused, solution seeking methodology, which proves so consistently compassionate that, over time, intelligent minds may naturally aspire to absorb trains of thought that consider the feelings of everyone concerned each time we reconvene to brainstorm, together, toward achieving another long range goal, which, proving difficult to navigate through without growing stormy, is ultimately accomplished, peaceably, one mental growth spurt at a time...
This year, as in years past, Tony and Ray are splitting Thanksgiving weekend between their parents’ homes on the west coast, suggestive of the fact that experiences with holidays past have offered our family insight concerning need to soak the depths of our love for each other in generosity of spirit so as to readily identify and soothe away any rise in frustration aroused by the specter of divorce, which creates need to refocus our attitudes toward peacekeeping in hopes that our circle of love will continue to expand in ways that prove emotionally healthy for two little boys, whose well being depends upon our level of emotional intelligence as the circle of life rolls forward for one and all.
And now tis time to switch tracks from musing over spiritually enlightening insights toward heating up favorite, mouth watering side dishes without which my menfolk believe Thanksgiving would not be complete. BTW: Did I mention that earlier in the week Barry texted for the sweet potato casserole recipe, passed forward from my mom to me, as he is wont to do, each time my eldest son's heartfelt commitment to family welcomes Marie’s clan into their home on the west coast, suggesting that no matter where Love, Life, Fate, Lady Luck, Free-will and Personal Choices take each of us, next, our hearts extend a warm welcome to new friends, who, along with treasured family, feast on love, served up with a smile, as was true in the homes of our youth.
Upon awakening, this morning, my first thought was to light the ovens in readiness to heat all of the sides, which had been refrigerated following my well-organized pattern of cooking and baking, day by day, ensuring my feeling rested and festive when we ring Steven’s door bell, holding white Corning dishes, filled with piping hot, ready-to-serve family favorites in hand.
My second thought was to ask you, on this day of Thanksgiving, to ponder upon mental growth spurts, which, though naturally absorbed by children, do not come easy for adults ... and with that thought lingering in the air, mingling with the tantalizing aroma of savory knishes teasing my taste buds with thoughts of feasting with extended family, who, having chosen to make their homes close to ours, feel as eager to enjoy this year’s spread to the max, as each one has prepared (or bought) a dish that has been a favorite of their immediate family, for years.
As I once expressed to Barry, who, feeling disappointed about something for which he’d held me accountable during a holiday about a dozen years back: Each time some aspect of human vulnerability fails to achieve your personal perception of perfection, there’s a lesson to be gleaned in the aftermath by way of open discussion so that humility, listening calmly to the voice of disappointment, absorbs emotional reactions expressed on all sides, offering everyone involved the opportunity to deepen each one’s understanding of how best to switch tracks from narrow mindsets that accomplish nothing more than casting blame, back and forth, toward embracing positive attitudes, focused upon creating change for the better by brainstorming more expansively (out of the box), the next time we all come together.
"The only real mistake is the one from which we learn nothing."
—John Powell
As in the aftermath of our heartfelt discussion a bigger picture emerged, peace of mind had reason to smile between parent and adult offspring; then years later, my peace of mind had reason to deepen upon hearing that same train of thought expressed every bit as calmly and patiently by Barry to Tony and Ray ... so though my children have grown to adults, this is one mare whose self worth doth not fear being put out to pasture for several reasons: First of all, I've grown ever more mindful of need to seek insight into bigger pictures in hopes of easing my changing placement in the circle of family life by employing intelligence to consciously embrace an attitude of open-mindedness that will consistently heed the voice of intuitive awareness, concerning need to brace my defense system to hurtle mental growth spurts that don’t come easy as we age, and with this proactive plan in mind, I'll continue to stoke my spirit's sense of self empowerment (not to be confused with entitlement) each time I become aware of need to say sorry or hold forth another baton, which proves in a state of readiness to pass forward as the circle of life advances in haste, as clearly as is true of late—no brakes in plain sight—and hopefully, the conscientious nature of this plan may save my sons from experiencing a build up of angst that proves classic when the aging process gangs up on beloved parents.
Once again, tis fitting that, while penning today’s intuitive train of thought on Thanksgiving, my sense of clarity, concerning my desire to enhance peace of mind all around, reflects my belief that cajoling, demanding, or commanding in punitive or passive aggressive ways pushes loved ones away, whereas true leadership, assuming the role of self-motivated guide, hopes to inspire change for the better, little by little, by modeling attitudes based in positively focused, solution seeking methodology, which proves so consistently compassionate that, over time, intelligent minds may naturally aspire to absorb trains of thought that consider the feelings of everyone concerned each time we reconvene to brainstorm, together, toward achieving another long range goal, which, proving difficult to navigate through without growing stormy, is ultimately accomplished, peaceably, one mental growth spurt at a time...
This year, as in years past, Tony and Ray are splitting Thanksgiving weekend between their parents’ homes on the west coast, suggestive of the fact that experiences with holidays past have offered our family insight concerning need to soak the depths of our love for each other in generosity of spirit so as to readily identify and soothe away any rise in frustration aroused by the specter of divorce, which creates need to refocus our attitudes toward peacekeeping in hopes that our circle of love will continue to expand in ways that prove emotionally healthy for two little boys, whose well being depends upon our level of emotional intelligence as the circle of life rolls forward for one and all.
And now tis time to switch tracks from musing over spiritually enlightening insights toward heating up favorite, mouth watering side dishes without which my menfolk believe Thanksgiving would not be complete. BTW: Did I mention that earlier in the week Barry texted for the sweet potato casserole recipe, passed forward from my mom to me, as he is wont to do, each time my eldest son's heartfelt commitment to family welcomes Marie’s clan into their home on the west coast, suggesting that no matter where Love, Life, Fate, Lady Luck, Free-will and Personal Choices take each of us, next, our hearts extend a warm welcome to new friends, who, along with treasured family, feast on love, served up with a smile, as was true in the homes of our youth.
Wednesday, November 22, 2017
ROLLING AND STUFFING DOUGH BEFORE STUFFING OURSELVES!
Penned yesterday, Tuesday, November 21, 2017
First things first
I made a change in Monday’s post, which
Proves to be no small thing for this reason:
Many verbs had need to change from past to present
Acknowledging that I’ll never be invincible to
Experiencing human vulnerability to emotionality
Time and again, I must remind myself that
It’s healthy to tell myself what to do when
An emotional reaction arises but it’s not
Healthy to deny the depths of what I feel, and
Here’s why that’s true:
‘Doing or not doing’ is a matter of choice whereas
Feelings emerge naturally so to deny the existence of
Emotions that I refuse to consciously acknowledge as my own is to
Lie to myself until an intuitive train of thought conveys
A painful deeper truth into my conscious awareness by way of
A flash of insight regarding the eruptive nature of
An inner conflict spotlighting a character trait that
Proves in need of identifying, exploring and
Resolving before my disrupted sense of inner peace is restored
In short, with intuition as my guide, I no longer remain
Stuck in a state of emotional unrest between a rock and a hard place for
As long as had been true when my defense system had usurped
So much control over my think tank as to have blocked
My intuitive powers from growing so strong as to oversee both sides of
The playing field that comprises the whole of my brain, and
Being that tomorrow is Thanksgiving, it’s only fitting that
This week sees me feeling grateful for having chosen to participate in
Sessions of EMDR therapy, which encourage me to muster
This trio of inner strengths, namely: courage, humility and
Patience, which are necessary to undertake one personal growth spurt after
Another, and having reached this point in today’s intuitive train of thought
Here comes the spotlight of insight, concerning change for the better that
My subconscious feels ready to disclose, right now:
Over these past several years, hosting Thanksgiving has shifted to the younger generation, which thankfully has cheerfully picked up the baton. At my age, I could no longer deny that preparing the sumptuous nature of this feast along with decorating our home before welcoming twenty to thirty loved ones to break bread at our table got to be too taxing for me, and after our hosting tradition had been passed down, all thoughts of guest lists flew out of my mind, though the same was not true of preparing the greater part of this annual feast, because we still cook up every dish except the turkey. And why is that true? Because my husband and sons believe that no one can whip up their traditional favorites, which must flank the bird (Steven’s undertaking along with hosting extended family at his home for the very first time), but me.
You see, each time a guest offered to make a favorite, using my recipe, my family, being well trained in the good manner’s department, would ooh and aah over how delighted their taste buds were until the last guest had departed, at which time a quartet of males would seek me out, crooning in unison: No one’s making the knishes, sweet potato casserole and green beans almandine with mushrooms but you! They’d agreed that my friends’ attempts to reproduce our favorites had resulted in unpalatable mushiness or crustiness that proved unacceptable, so eventually, over time, I asked my quartet to lend a hand in preparing their favorites for twenty or more, and as each one proved affable to that change in plan, smiles abound all around, and if guests asked to add to our feast not one of my lads need fear that a traditional favorite will fall short of ‘perfection’.
Though my mind was (and is) intent on relaxing pain and frustration, Sunday saw yours truly standing at our expansive, L shaped kitchen island with Will, who was peeling six pounds of potatoes while I fried up two large fry pans of chopped onions in preparation for Monday, when dough would be kneaded, rolled out, cut into circles and stuffed with our buttery, peppery, oniony potato concoction as our tradition of knish-making (handed down from Will’s aromainian Grandma) demands. And having turned up the volume on oldies but goodies while frying those onions, I found myself wandering down memory lane, reminiscing over Thanksgivings, long past, when I was a child, decades before our three sons had ever held rolling pins in their small hands followed by years when Jeremy, Marnie and Jeremy’s daughter, our niece and her husband and three young sons encircled our expansive kitchen island along with our grown sons as some of us stuffed and others fried while another generation of children (who are now grown) rolled dough with Will until the tolling pin was passed to Ravi, who, at barely two, had delighted in rolling dough with her papa for the very first time,last year, and while feeling nostalgic about all of those Thanksgiving blessings in the past when family flew in from all over the country in celebration of loving togetherness in our home ... my mind came to rest upon the visualization of extended family sleeping all over the house wherever a bed could be made of a couch, and while considering the nature of the circle of life, I realized how difficult this week’s holiday must be for Marnie, and in addition to feeling sad for her irreplaceable loss of Jeremy, I felt remiss while reaching out with heartfelt words of love. Why? Because, though she and Jeremy had not celebrated Thanksgiving with us in quite a few years, I’d not thought to invite my grieving sister-in-law to share in the festivities with us. Thank goodness, Marnie, who lives many hundreds of miles away from our home, replied that she plans to fly north to celebrate with her brother.
On Monday, Will, Steven and Edie did most of the work rolling, stuffing and frying more than one hundred knishes while I pitched in, here and there. Upon reflection, I’m truly amazed at the amount of preparation I’d achieved on my own while raising three active sons, teaching at the college, writing articles and sitting on boards in addition to hosting most of the holidays, throughout the year, within our home.
Upon reflection, I also felt relieved to note that I’d felt remiss rather than flooded with guilt as would have been true in the past once thoughts of Marnie came to mind. And so, though sadness for Marnie’s loss of Jeremy snd Jenna’s loss of Jamie weigh heavy on my heart, the healthy degree of my compassion acknowledges another growth spurt, and the awareness of personal growth naturally bouys my spirit.
First things first
I made a change in Monday’s post, which
Proves to be no small thing for this reason:
Many verbs had need to change from past to present
Acknowledging that I’ll never be invincible to
Experiencing human vulnerability to emotionality
Time and again, I must remind myself that
It’s healthy to tell myself what to do when
An emotional reaction arises but it’s not
Healthy to deny the depths of what I feel, and
Here’s why that’s true:
‘Doing or not doing’ is a matter of choice whereas
Feelings emerge naturally so to deny the existence of
Emotions that I refuse to consciously acknowledge as my own is to
Lie to myself until an intuitive train of thought conveys
A painful deeper truth into my conscious awareness by way of
A flash of insight regarding the eruptive nature of
An inner conflict spotlighting a character trait that
Proves in need of identifying, exploring and
Resolving before my disrupted sense of inner peace is restored
In short, with intuition as my guide, I no longer remain
Stuck in a state of emotional unrest between a rock and a hard place for
As long as had been true when my defense system had usurped
So much control over my think tank as to have blocked
My intuitive powers from growing so strong as to oversee both sides of
The playing field that comprises the whole of my brain, and
Being that tomorrow is Thanksgiving, it’s only fitting that
This week sees me feeling grateful for having chosen to participate in
Sessions of EMDR therapy, which encourage me to muster
This trio of inner strengths, namely: courage, humility and
Patience, which are necessary to undertake one personal growth spurt after
Another, and having reached this point in today’s intuitive train of thought
Here comes the spotlight of insight, concerning change for the better that
My subconscious feels ready to disclose, right now:
Over these past several years, hosting Thanksgiving has shifted to the younger generation, which thankfully has cheerfully picked up the baton. At my age, I could no longer deny that preparing the sumptuous nature of this feast along with decorating our home before welcoming twenty to thirty loved ones to break bread at our table got to be too taxing for me, and after our hosting tradition had been passed down, all thoughts of guest lists flew out of my mind, though the same was not true of preparing the greater part of this annual feast, because we still cook up every dish except the turkey. And why is that true? Because my husband and sons believe that no one can whip up their traditional favorites, which must flank the bird (Steven’s undertaking along with hosting extended family at his home for the very first time), but me.
You see, each time a guest offered to make a favorite, using my recipe, my family, being well trained in the good manner’s department, would ooh and aah over how delighted their taste buds were until the last guest had departed, at which time a quartet of males would seek me out, crooning in unison: No one’s making the knishes, sweet potato casserole and green beans almandine with mushrooms but you! They’d agreed that my friends’ attempts to reproduce our favorites had resulted in unpalatable mushiness or crustiness that proved unacceptable, so eventually, over time, I asked my quartet to lend a hand in preparing their favorites for twenty or more, and as each one proved affable to that change in plan, smiles abound all around, and if guests asked to add to our feast not one of my lads need fear that a traditional favorite will fall short of ‘perfection’.
Though my mind was (and is) intent on relaxing pain and frustration, Sunday saw yours truly standing at our expansive, L shaped kitchen island with Will, who was peeling six pounds of potatoes while I fried up two large fry pans of chopped onions in preparation for Monday, when dough would be kneaded, rolled out, cut into circles and stuffed with our buttery, peppery, oniony potato concoction as our tradition of knish-making (handed down from Will’s aromainian Grandma) demands. And having turned up the volume on oldies but goodies while frying those onions, I found myself wandering down memory lane, reminiscing over Thanksgivings, long past, when I was a child, decades before our three sons had ever held rolling pins in their small hands followed by years when Jeremy, Marnie and Jeremy’s daughter, our niece and her husband and three young sons encircled our expansive kitchen island along with our grown sons as some of us stuffed and others fried while another generation of children (who are now grown) rolled dough with Will until the tolling pin was passed to Ravi, who, at barely two, had delighted in rolling dough with her papa for the very first time,last year, and while feeling nostalgic about all of those Thanksgiving blessings in the past when family flew in from all over the country in celebration of loving togetherness in our home ... my mind came to rest upon the visualization of extended family sleeping all over the house wherever a bed could be made of a couch, and while considering the nature of the circle of life, I realized how difficult this week’s holiday must be for Marnie, and in addition to feeling sad for her irreplaceable loss of Jeremy, I felt remiss while reaching out with heartfelt words of love. Why? Because, though she and Jeremy had not celebrated Thanksgiving with us in quite a few years, I’d not thought to invite my grieving sister-in-law to share in the festivities with us. Thank goodness, Marnie, who lives many hundreds of miles away from our home, replied that she plans to fly north to celebrate with her brother.
On Monday, Will, Steven and Edie did most of the work rolling, stuffing and frying more than one hundred knishes while I pitched in, here and there. Upon reflection, I’m truly amazed at the amount of preparation I’d achieved on my own while raising three active sons, teaching at the college, writing articles and sitting on boards in addition to hosting most of the holidays, throughout the year, within our home.
Upon reflection, I also felt relieved to note that I’d felt remiss rather than flooded with guilt as would have been true in the past once thoughts of Marnie came to mind. And so, though sadness for Marnie’s loss of Jeremy snd Jenna’s loss of Jamie weigh heavy on my heart, the healthy degree of my compassion acknowledges another growth spurt, and the awareness of personal growth naturally bouys my spirit.
If there’s one thing that’s constant, it’s the fact that my reactions to life experiences continue to change, sometimes in ways that enrich my heart and sometimes in ways that arouse nostalgia for what has past with no idea of what lies directly ahead; and I believe I can feel thankful to note that flogging myself with undeserved guilt is a self defeating trait that is no longer mine, and with this festive holiday only a day away! I’m sending you heartfelt wishes for a happy and healthy Thanksgiving, wrapped in warm hugs and lots of love,
❤️Annie
Monday, November 20, 2017
MIND CONTROL IS FAR FROM EASY
Please make no mistake, today’s train of thought
(Penned and published on Monday, November 20, 2017)
Concerning my mission to consciously place angst to one side is
No easier than denying my longing to taste forbidden fruit ...
If it was otherwise, I’d just relax my mind naturally, knowing
That being well practiced my intuitive powers would
Readily release the next in a line up of unidentified
Inner conflicts, which lay in wait to leap from
Subconscious storage into my frontal lobe, suggesting
Why writer’s block is rare for a world class pleaser such as
I’ve come to know myself to be
In fact, while lying here, relaxing muscle tension and
Frustration by inhaling oxygen, expansively,
I’m considering penning a sequel to
The Little Engine That Could entitled:
Until It Could Not, because today’s train of thought
Pays homage to my conscious acknowledgement of
Human vulnerabilities to which my defense system
Blinds me from seeing as my own whenever I forget that
A wall of denial exists inside my head, dividing my brain into
Separate parts, thereby conning my conscious awareness from
Acknowledging this fact: In no way is my body impervious to
Injuries that commonly plague others, who, like me, habitually
Push themselves far beyond the human limitation of
Phyysical, emotional and/or mental endurance, and
Ad that insight (spotlighting over-achievers) describes me to a tee
I’ve come to see how viewing my younger self as being as
Invincible as a super hero led to the undoing of
The Little Engine That Could Until It Could Not
(Penned and published on Monday, November 20, 2017)
Concerning my mission to consciously place angst to one side is
No easier than denying my longing to taste forbidden fruit ...
If it was otherwise, I’d just relax my mind naturally, knowing
That being well practiced my intuitive powers would
Readily release the next in a line up of unidentified
Inner conflicts, which lay in wait to leap from
Subconscious storage into my frontal lobe, suggesting
Why writer’s block is rare for a world class pleaser such as
I’ve come to know myself to be
In fact, while lying here, relaxing muscle tension and
Frustration by inhaling oxygen, expansively,
I’m considering penning a sequel to
The Little Engine That Could entitled:
Until It Could Not, because today’s train of thought
Pays homage to my conscious acknowledgement of
Human vulnerabilities to which my defense system
Blinds me from seeing as my own whenever I forget that
A wall of denial exists inside my head, dividing my brain into
Separate parts, thereby conning my conscious awareness from
Acknowledging this fact: In no way is my body impervious to
Injuries that commonly plague others, who, like me, habitually
Push themselves far beyond the human limitation of
Phyysical, emotional and/or mental endurance, and
Ad that insight (spotlighting over-achievers) describes me to a tee
I’ve come to see how viewing my younger self as being as
Invincible as a super hero led to the undoing of
The Little Engine That Could Until It Could Not
Sunday, November 19, 2017
HOW IS RELAXATION A MATTER OF MIND CONTROL?
Penned and published, today, Sunday, November 19, 2017:
In hopes that Saturday would offer less pain than Friday
I consciously chose to wrap my mind around relaxing through pain ...
Relaxing through pain requires inhaling oxygen so naturally as to
Ease muscle tension in hopes of decreasing
Emotional misery born of physical pain’s sharp intensity, and
Thus did yesterday see me reading rather than dwelling on
(Exacerbating) my frustration ... In short, my smarts intuited that
Relaxation depends upon actively minimizing frustration by way of
Diverting my thoughts away from my life in favor of absorbing
The intriguing storyline of characters I’d never met, and
Guess what this exercise in mind control offered up?
By making sound use of my noodle
The sharp edge of my pain had lessened, again, by
Late Saturday afternoon; however, as pain’s not entirely gone
I’ll employ this simple proactive plan with hopes of
Continuing success, tomorrow—I mean
Seriously—family begins to fly in on Monday, and
There’s cooking in need of completing before
Thursday’s Thanksgiving feast, followed by
Ravi’s third birthday party on Saturday, and
Throughout each day leading up to both festivities
I’m planning to enjoy myself—thoroughly!
I find it of interest to note that during younger days
When my heartfelt focus was primarily directed toward
Taking care of my family, including
My aging mom and dad, my paradigm was to
Keep smiling and 'doing' while enduring pain quietly in
Increasing degrees; however, as my offspring have been
Independent for many years and
Mom and Dad are resting in peace, there’s nothing
Selfish about honoring my needs as highly as
I’d spent my life placing the needs of
Loved ones over my own ... and though a change of
This magnitude at this late stage of my life does not
Feel natural, as of yet, I know that self awareness
Regarding need for personal growth, is intuitively
Addressing the continued good health of my spirit, and
As such, this change for the better in attitude will shift
My original paradigm so naturally as to ease my mind, with time
PS
As this week's exercise with mind control served to relax
The degree of my frustration with pain ...
Guess whose brain relaxed enough to free intuition to pen today’s post?
In hopes that Saturday would offer less pain than Friday
I consciously chose to wrap my mind around relaxing through pain ...
Relaxing through pain requires inhaling oxygen so naturally as to
Ease muscle tension in hopes of decreasing
Emotional misery born of physical pain’s sharp intensity, and
Thus did yesterday see me reading rather than dwelling on
(Exacerbating) my frustration ... In short, my smarts intuited that
Relaxation depends upon actively minimizing frustration by way of
Diverting my thoughts away from my life in favor of absorbing
The intriguing storyline of characters I’d never met, and
Guess what this exercise in mind control offered up?
By making sound use of my noodle
The sharp edge of my pain had lessened, again, by
Late Saturday afternoon; however, as pain’s not entirely gone
I’ll employ this simple proactive plan with hopes of
Continuing success, tomorrow—I mean
Seriously—family begins to fly in on Monday, and
There’s cooking in need of completing before
Thursday’s Thanksgiving feast, followed by
Ravi’s third birthday party on Saturday, and
Throughout each day leading up to both festivities
I’m planning to enjoy myself—thoroughly!
I find it of interest to note that during younger days
When my heartfelt focus was primarily directed toward
Taking care of my family, including
My aging mom and dad, my paradigm was to
Keep smiling and 'doing' while enduring pain quietly in
Increasing degrees; however, as my offspring have been
Independent for many years and
Mom and Dad are resting in peace, there’s nothing
Selfish about honoring my needs as highly as
I’d spent my life placing the needs of
Loved ones over my own ... and though a change of
This magnitude at this late stage of my life does not
Feel natural, as of yet, I know that self awareness
Regarding need for personal growth, is intuitively
Addressing the continued good health of my spirit, and
As such, this change for the better in attitude will shift
My original paradigm so naturally as to ease my mind, with time
PS
As this week's exercise with mind control served to relax
The degree of my frustration with pain ...
Guess whose brain relaxed enough to free intuition to pen today’s post?
Friday, November 17, 2017
SWITCHING TRACKS FROM PONDERING TO CONTEMPLATION
Penned and posted today, Friday, November 17, 2017
Initially, I didn’t feel pensive
I just felt sad, and it dawned on me that
Emotional complexity, associated with death, did not arise
Generally, when my emotions feel clouded with complexity
I tend to fear something scary is about to emerge from
Subconscious memory, which makes me feel apprehensive
Upon receiving word of Jamie’s death
Sadness arose but apprehension did not, making me think:
Something inside has changed for the better, but what?
Once insight highlighted that which had changed in
My patterned reaction to death, I stopped pondering in
A questioning manner in favor of contemplating deeper truth
Though my intention on Wednesday was to pen
A detailed description of my brain’s intuitive ability to
Transform emotional opacity into transparency on Thursday
Fate dictated my need to press pause on that plan after
I’d moved in such a way as to have tweaked my back
And knowing that pain creates inner tension, which
Wraps my mental connection to clarity within
Frustration’s foggy state of mind, any attempt to
Dive into that fog and emerge with clarity intact would
Have proved nothing short of ineffective, so choosing to
Embrace common sense, I placed my original plan aside in
Favor of resting body and mind, knowing that total relaxation
Lessens inner tension and as such, proves to be
A natural pain reliever, and after rescheduling
Thursday's and Friday's appointments, my think tank readily
Reached for a heating pad before coasting into
A rest station where I've been relaxing until late afternoon when
Intuitive thought coached me to pen this positively focused
Train of thought, suggestive of the fact that I am experiencing
Less pain, today than had been true Thursday, and on that
Optimistic note, I’ll bid you good day till intuition nods, again
Initially, I didn’t feel pensive
I just felt sad, and it dawned on me that
Emotional complexity, associated with death, did not arise
Generally, when my emotions feel clouded with complexity
I tend to fear something scary is about to emerge from
Subconscious memory, which makes me feel apprehensive
Upon receiving word of Jamie’s death
Sadness arose but apprehension did not, making me think:
Something inside has changed for the better, but what?
Once insight highlighted that which had changed in
My patterned reaction to death, I stopped pondering in
A questioning manner in favor of contemplating deeper truth
Though my intention on Wednesday was to pen
A detailed description of my brain’s intuitive ability to
Transform emotional opacity into transparency on Thursday
Fate dictated my need to press pause on that plan after
I’d moved in such a way as to have tweaked my back
And knowing that pain creates inner tension, which
Wraps my mental connection to clarity within
Frustration’s foggy state of mind, any attempt to
Dive into that fog and emerge with clarity intact would
Have proved nothing short of ineffective, so choosing to
Embrace common sense, I placed my original plan aside in
Favor of resting body and mind, knowing that total relaxation
Lessens inner tension and as such, proves to be
A natural pain reliever, and after rescheduling
Thursday's and Friday's appointments, my think tank readily
Reached for a heating pad before coasting into
A rest station where I've been relaxing until late afternoon when
Intuitive thought coached me to pen this positively focused
Train of thought, suggestive of the fact that I am experiencing
Less pain, today than had been true Thursday, and on that
Optimistic note, I’ll bid you good day till intuition nods, again
Wednesday, November 15, 2017
A PENSIVE STATE OF CONTEMPLATIVE CLARITY IS MINE
This post was penned and published, today:
Several months back, my dear friend from high school days, Debbie, made me aware of another friend’s battle with ALS. Our ailing friend, Jamie, and her twin sister, Jenna had been inseparable throughout their entire lives. These sweet girls wore matching outfits and hairstyles to school, every day. Upon graduation, they attended the same college, taught at the same grammar school and upon marrying their sweethearts, both couples moved from the Midwest to make their homes in Florida, where their families were raised. Though we’d enjoyed each other’s friendships throughout high school, the twins and I lost touch as is often true once separate college adventures sweep each of us into a whole new social circle. In fact, Debbie and I had drifted apart for many years, as well, until a high school reunion brought us together, and our spirits embraced a mutual sense of delight as our love for each other re-ignited so spontaneously as to connect our hearts from that moment to this one as naturally as if we’d never experienced separation at all. If memory serves me, I don’t remember the twins presence at any of the official reunions that I’d so eagerly attended. However, I enjoyed seeing Jamie once during these past 55 years, and I remember feeling that something didn't feel right, because Jenna, who was unable to be with us, was not at her twin’s side.
Several months back, my dear friend from high school days, Debbie, made me aware of another friend’s battle with ALS. Our ailing friend, Jamie, and her twin sister, Jenna had been inseparable throughout their entire lives. These sweet girls wore matching outfits and hairstyles to school, every day. Upon graduation, they attended the same college, taught at the same grammar school and upon marrying their sweethearts, both couples moved from the Midwest to make their homes in Florida, where their families were raised. Though we’d enjoyed each other’s friendships throughout high school, the twins and I lost touch as is often true once separate college adventures sweep each of us into a whole new social circle. In fact, Debbie and I had drifted apart for many years, as well, until a high school reunion brought us together, and our spirits embraced a mutual sense of delight as our love for each other re-ignited so spontaneously as to connect our hearts from that moment to this one as naturally as if we’d never experienced separation at all. If memory serves me, I don’t remember the twins presence at any of the official reunions that I’d so eagerly attended. However, I enjoyed seeing Jamie once during these past 55 years, and I remember feeling that something didn't feel right, because Jenna, who was unable to be with us, was not at her twin’s side.
During recent months, after many years apart, Jenna, Jamie and I reconnected via email once Debbie had made me aware of Jamie’s courageous spirit, battling the horrific debilitating illness that ALS proves to be. I reached out by sending my love to the twins, tucked into a bouquet of bright yellow roses, and upon receiving my long-distance hug, their response expressed the depth of their surprised delight to have heard from me, and as we three enjoyed reminiscing over high school, our hearts smiled and the years slipped away. As the twins remained inseparable throughout every stage of life, Jamie’s passing, last Friday, is sure to be a profound loss to Jenna, who, having been at Jamie’s bedside throughout her lengthy illness, has expressed that her beloved sister is at last at peace. Hopefully, over time, that thought will ease the depths of my friend’s grief. And somehow, over these past few days, knowing that Jamie’s valiant struggle has mercifully come to an end as she passed from this life into the peaceful hereafter, the conscious portion of my mind, attending to Jenna’s irretrievable, irreplaceable loss, has re-awakened my sensitivities to ponder ever more deeply upon the circle of life ... and now that clarity's transparency is once again mine, I'll feel free to describe waves of emotion, which are no longer opaque, when next we meet ...
Jamie, Jenna and Debbie (before contact lenses), standing right above me
 |
Tuesday, November 14, 2017
STILL TOO PENSIVE TO BE ANYTHING BUT STILL
Penned and posted today:
My processor, having been stirred by
The arousal of semi-conscious memories
Still feels too actively pensive to draw forth
Reflective trains of thoughts with clarity intact
And as long as waves of emotion, which
Feel too complex to name, flood my mind
I’ll respect my intuitive need to cocoon
This current sense of confusion without
So much as a hint of frustration though
Opacity renders my think tank incapable of
Releasing words in such a well organized fashion as to
Create a free flow of sentences revealing that which
I’ve been feeling for several days to me, and not until
My processor stops reeling with unidentified emotion
Will my brain, functioning as a rebalanced whole
Feel ready, willing and able to offer up
Trains of thought that run along a track so clear and true
As to convey exactly what I’ve been feeling to you ...
My processor, having been stirred by
The arousal of semi-conscious memories
Still feels too actively pensive to draw forth
Reflective trains of thoughts with clarity intact
And as long as waves of emotion, which
Feel too complex to name, flood my mind
I’ll respect my intuitive need to cocoon
This current sense of confusion without
So much as a hint of frustration though
Opacity renders my think tank incapable of
Releasing words in such a well organized fashion as to
Create a free flow of sentences revealing that which
I’ve been feeling for several days to me, and not until
My processor stops reeling with unidentified emotion
Will my brain, functioning as a rebalanced whole
Feel ready, willing and able to offer up
Trains of thought that run along a track so clear and true
As to convey exactly what I’ve been feeling to you ...
Monday, November 13, 2017
A QUIET SENSE OF REFLECTION
This post was penned, today, Monday, November 11, 2017:
I awoke feeling need for quiet reflection
Leaving me at a loss for words for now ...
I awoke feeling need for quiet reflection
Leaving me at a loss for words for now ...
Sunday, November 12, 2017
1469DDDDDDDDDDD DETERMINATION
Penned sometime last summer:
Determination—not to faint
All is well, now that I understand what catalyzed my sudden drop in blood pressure, causing me to collapse to the pavement while buckling Ravi into her car seat —the only thing that saved me from losing consciousness completely was my determination to muster the mental acuity that ensured Ravi's safety, because the temperature outside was over 108 degrees, and my precious grand daughter was sitting in a hot car ...
Sunday November 12, 2017
So how was my determination to remain semi conscious influenced by imagination? Before succumbing wholly to an oxygen-deprived state of mind, I imagined this sweltering situation causing Ravi harm, and thus did fear stimulate a surge of adrenaline energizing my dizzied think tank to function (while lying on the pavement) just long enough to dial for help before relaxing my will to lie limp unable to move so much as a muscle.
As imagination pumped up fear-based determination, mind control saved the day.
Determination—not to faint
All is well, now that I understand what catalyzed my sudden drop in blood pressure, causing me to collapse to the pavement while buckling Ravi into her car seat —the only thing that saved me from losing consciousness completely was my determination to muster the mental acuity that ensured Ravi's safety, because the temperature outside was over 108 degrees, and my precious grand daughter was sitting in a hot car ...
Sunday November 12, 2017
So how was my determination to remain semi conscious influenced by imagination? Before succumbing wholly to an oxygen-deprived state of mind, I imagined this sweltering situation causing Ravi harm, and thus did fear stimulate a surge of adrenaline energizing my dizzied think tank to function (while lying on the pavement) just long enough to dial for help before relaxing my will to lie limp unable to move so much as a muscle.
As imagination pumped up fear-based determination, mind control saved the day.
Saturday, November 11, 2017
1469DDDDDDDDD "IMAGINATION IS NOT TO BE DIVORCED FROM THE FACTS"
Today's post was penned last summer:
"In formal logic, a contradiction is the signal of defeat
But in the evolution of real knowledge
It marks the first step in progress toward a victory"
—Alfred North Whitehead
Unlike Whitehead's previous two books on mathematics, An Introduction to Mathematics (1911) was not aimed exclusively at professional mathematicians, but was intended for a larger audience. The book covered the nature of mathematics, its unity and internal structure, and its applicability to nature.[45] Whitehead wrote in the opening chapter:
"In formal logic, a contradiction is the signal of defeat
But in the evolution of real knowledge
It marks the first step in progress toward a victory"
—Alfred North Whitehead
Alfred North Whitehead OM FRS FBA (15 February 1861 – 30 December 1947) was an English mathematician and philosopher. He is best known as the defining figure of the philosophical school known as process philosophy,[18] which today has found application to a wide variety of disciplines, including ecology, theology, education, physics, biology, economics, and psychology, among other areas.
In his early career Whitehead wrote primarily on mathematics, logic, and physics. His most notable work in these fields is the three-volume Principia Mathematica (1910–13), which he wrote with former student Bertrand Russell. Principia Mathematica is considered one of the twentieth century's most important works in mathematical logic, and placed 23rd in a list of the top 100 English-language nonfiction books of the twentieth century by Modern Library.[19]
Beginning in the late 1910s and early 1920s, Whitehead gradually turned his attention from mathematics to philosophy of science, and finally to metaphysics. He developed a comprehensive metaphysical system which radically departed from most of western philosophy. Whitehead argued that reality consists of processes rather than material objects, and that processes are best defined by their relations with other processes, thus rejecting the theory that reality is fundamentally constructed by bits of matter that exist independently of one another.[20]Today Whitehead's philosophical works – particularly Process and Reality – are regarded as the foundational texts of process philosophy.
Whitehead's process philosophy argues that "there is urgency in coming to see the world as a web of interrelated processes of which we are integral parts, so that all of our choices and actions have consequences for the world around us."[20] For this reason, one of the most promising applications of Whitehead's thought in recent years has been in the area of ecological civilization and environmental ethics pioneered by John B. Cobb Jr.
Principia Mathematica (1910–1913) is Whitehead's most famous mathematical work. Co-written with former student Bertrand Russell, Principia Mathematica is considered one of the twentieth century's most important works in mathematics, and placed 23rd in a list of the top 100 English-language nonfiction books of the twentieth century by Modern Library.[19]
Principia Mathematica's purpose was to describe a set of axioms and inference rules in symbolic logicfrom which all mathematical truths could in principle be proven. Whitehead and Russell were working on such a foundational level of mathematics and logic that it took them until page 86 of Volume II to prove that 1+1=2, a proof humorously accompanied by the comment, "The above proposition is occasionally useful."[54]
Whitehead and Russell had thought originally that Principia Mathematica would take a year to complete; it ended up taking them ten years.[55] To add insult to injury, when it came time for publication, the three-volume work was so long (more than 2,000 pages) and its audience so narrow (professional mathematicians) that it was initially published at a loss of 600 pounds, 300 of which was paid by Cambridge University Press, 200 by the Royal Society of London, and 50 apiece by Whitehead and Russell themselves.[55] Despite the initial loss, today there is likely no major academic library in the world which does not hold a copy of Principia Mathematica.[56]
The ultimate substantive legacy of Principia Mathematica is mixed. It is generally accepted that Kurt Gödel's incompleteness theorem of 1931 definitively demonstrated that for any set of axioms and inference rules proposed to encapsulate mathematics, there would in fact be some truths of mathematics which could not be deduced from them, and hence that Principia Mathematica could never achieve its aims.[57] However, Gödel could not have come to this conclusion without Whitehead and Russell's book. In this way, Principia Mathematica's legacy might be described as its key role in disproving the possibility of achieving its own stated goals.[58] But beyond this somewhat ironic legacy, the book popularized modern mathematical logic and drew important connections between logic, epistemology, and metaphysics.
The book can be seen as an attempt to understand the growth in unity and interconnection of mathematics as a whole, as well as an examination of the mutual influence of mathematics and philosophy, language, and physics.[61] Although the book is little-read, in some ways it prefigures certain points of Whitehead's later work in philosophy and metaphysics
Whitehead showed a deep concern for educational reform at all levels. In addition to his numerous individually written works on the subject, Whitehead was appointed by Britain's Prime Minister David Lloyd George as part of a 20-person committee to investigate the educational systems and practices of the UK in 1921 and recommend reform.[63]
Whitehead's most complete work on education is the 1929 book The Aims of Education and Other Essays, which collected numerous essays and addresses by Whitehead on the subject published between 1912 and 1927. The essay from which Aims of Education derived its name was delivered as an address in 1916 when Whitehead was president of the London Branch of the Mathematical Association. In it, he cautioned against the teaching of what he called "inert ideas" – ideas that are disconnected scraps of information, with no application to real life or culture. He opined that "education with inert ideas is not only useless: it is, above all things, harmful."[64]
Rather than teach small parts of a large number of subjects, Whitehead advocated teaching a relatively few important concepts that the student could organically link to many different areas of knowledge, discovering their application in actual life.[65] For Whitehead, education should be the exact opposite of the multidisciplinary, value-free school model[64][66] – it should be transdisciplinary, and laden with values and general principles that provide students with a bedrock of wisdom and help them to make connections between areas of knowledge that are usually regarded as separate.
Whitehead argued that curriculum should be developed specifically for its own students by its own staff, or else risk total stagnation, interrupted only by occasional movements from one group of inert ideas to another.
Above all else in his educational writings, Whitehead emphasized the importance of imagination and the free play of ideas. In his essay "Universities and Their Function", Whitehead writes provocatively on imagination:
Whitehead's philosophy of education might adequately be summarized in his statement that "knowledge does not keep any better than fish."[69]In other words, bits of disconnected knowledge are meaningless; all knowledge must find some imaginative application to the students' own lives, or else it becomes so much useless trivia, and the students themselves become good at parroting facts but not thinking for themselves.
Saturday, November, 11, 2017
If you ask me to summarize Whitehead's philosophy of education in a sentence, I'd reply:
"Bits of disconnected knowledge are meaningless", implying that puzzlements concerning conflicts, which remain unresolved, are due to the fact that 'the bigger picture' has not yet been constructed with clarity in your mind or mine ... for example:
"There is nothing in a caterpillar that tells you it's going to be a butterfly."
— R. Buckminster Fuller
PS
A meaningful thought, concerning imagination, was added, this morning, beneath the last photo published in yesterday's post
Saturday, November, 11, 2017
If you ask me to summarize Whitehead's philosophy of education in a sentence, I'd reply:
"Bits of disconnected knowledge are meaningless", implying that puzzlements concerning conflicts, which remain unresolved, are due to the fact that 'the bigger picture' has not yet been constructed with clarity in your mind or mine ... for example:
"There is nothing in a caterpillar that tells you it's going to be a butterfly."
— R. Buckminster Fuller
PS
A meaningful thought, concerning imagination, was added, this morning, beneath the last photo published in yesterday's post
Friday, November 10, 2017
HAPPY BIRTHDAY!
Penned and posted, today, Friday, November 10, 2017:
Why is it that my first thought is not necessarily my best thought?
Because my first thought may not have dived so deep into memory as to have clarified a deeper truth that has had need to speak to my conscious awareness, and that’s especially true when I’m in need of pinpointing exactly where I am still deceiving myself about myself.
For example, my original thought was that this week's inner tension has been associated solely with my aging process, which we all know leads toward death. Then, yesterday, a resurgence of love for my dad emerged, resulting in my belief that my angst has been based in how deeply I've missed his presence, over these past fifteen years.
Then, this morning, I picked up the paper and while scanning the headlines, here's what ran through the conscious portion of my mind: Deranged minds, ending the lives of innocent people of all ages, running rampant through our cities, towns, houses of worship and schools—on a daily basis. Natural disasters (due to global warming?) wreaking havoc on millions of families, leaving the bewildered minds of destitute children traumatized. And the fact that current exposés, revealing sexual predators in every walk of life, catch so many unaware as to feel shocked just doesn't make sense to me when, throughout history, common knowledge has continued to inform every generation of the fact that heartless predators in every walk of life, lurk here, there, everywhere, because 'abusees' grow up to become abusers and absolute power corrupts ...
As the conscious portion of my mind associates much of the above with fears (relating directly back to my childhood's shattered sense of personal safety), a recent uprising of latent anxiety, repressed in its unprocessed state, has been aroused, yet again, to seep through cracks in my wall of denial as though echoes of yesteryear’s danger have been threatening my survival instinct with extinction, anew.
So, perhaps EMDR therapy offers me the mental tools to calm past traumas whenever any aspect of a current event stimulates unprocessed anxieties to re-emerge; however, it proves far from easy for me to accept that no amount of therapy can delete the fearsome nature of unprocessed memories from erupting in the form of inner tension (i.e. muscle memory—suggestive of the fact that the body ‘remembers’ what the mind forgets).
On the other hand, tis past time for we, who populate the world, to openly confront the fearsome fact that heartless bestiality (which conflicts with our heartfelt conviction that we live in a civilized world) all too often lurks in the work place or in a classroom, or in our neighbor's home, right next door, or even worse, within our extended family, or heaven forbid, can be heard lumbering around in a bedroom just down the hall, stalking the safety of an innocent child, who, sleeping fitfully, fears illicit conjugal visits in the dark of night—suggesting that blind denial is popular state of mind, because reality and anxiety so often go hand in hand.
As long as smart-hearts remain naive about the fact that both sides of human nature vie for space within every person's brain, fate will continue to place children and underlings in harms way 'neath the heel of authority figures, whose minds, mangled during their childhood, have lost all sense of clarity concerning right and wrong.
As to my aging process, that fearsome reality can’t help but resurface at this stage of life each time my birthday draws near—What, already???
As to missing my Dad even more than usual—a flash of insight spotlighted this week's upsurge of emotion as being a repetitive event. Why? Well ...
Happy birthday, Dad. Today, we'd have gathered in celebration of your 104th.
As to yesteryear's eruptive sense of anxiety overwhelming my hard won connection to inner peace, during recent weeks, well, that's where knowledge, patience and a creative plan of action come in to calm down natural eruptions of emotional reactivity, and as knowledge and patience to wait out my brain’s conscious absorption of my natural reaction to current events (all of which prove beyond my control) are already mine, all my think tank needs to do is to employ creativity to conjure up another simple plan of action that's shaping up as I write, which will prove so optimistic as to guide my think tank to follow this bouncing ball:
Step one:
When considering each of the anxiety-producing situations above, I need to remind myself that there's nothing new under the sun, and my immediate family is alive, safe and well
Step two:
Repeat step one until this current episode of fearsome discomfort feels relieved
Step three:
Speed up step two by consciously appreciating my family's good fortune, because, thus far, fate has kept my loved ones safe from lasting harm
As to Dad's birthday—I smile with gratitude to think of the good, though not perfect, immigrant child from Poland (brought to the new world by parents, who’d hoped to better their lives), who grew up to be such a good man as to personify my first superhero by openly expressing the depth of his love for family and friends with all his heart, every day of his life ...
Why is it that my first thought is not necessarily my best thought?
Because my first thought may not have dived so deep into memory as to have clarified a deeper truth that has had need to speak to my conscious awareness, and that’s especially true when I’m in need of pinpointing exactly where I am still deceiving myself about myself.
For example, my original thought was that this week's inner tension has been associated solely with my aging process, which we all know leads toward death. Then, yesterday, a resurgence of love for my dad emerged, resulting in my belief that my angst has been based in how deeply I've missed his presence, over these past fifteen years.
Then, this morning, I picked up the paper and while scanning the headlines, here's what ran through the conscious portion of my mind: Deranged minds, ending the lives of innocent people of all ages, running rampant through our cities, towns, houses of worship and schools—on a daily basis. Natural disasters (due to global warming?) wreaking havoc on millions of families, leaving the bewildered minds of destitute children traumatized. And the fact that current exposés, revealing sexual predators in every walk of life, catch so many unaware as to feel shocked just doesn't make sense to me when, throughout history, common knowledge has continued to inform every generation of the fact that heartless predators in every walk of life, lurk here, there, everywhere, because 'abusees' grow up to become abusers and absolute power corrupts ...
As the conscious portion of my mind associates much of the above with fears (relating directly back to my childhood's shattered sense of personal safety), a recent uprising of latent anxiety, repressed in its unprocessed state, has been aroused, yet again, to seep through cracks in my wall of denial as though echoes of yesteryear’s danger have been threatening my survival instinct with extinction, anew.
So, perhaps EMDR therapy offers me the mental tools to calm past traumas whenever any aspect of a current event stimulates unprocessed anxieties to re-emerge; however, it proves far from easy for me to accept that no amount of therapy can delete the fearsome nature of unprocessed memories from erupting in the form of inner tension (i.e. muscle memory—suggestive of the fact that the body ‘remembers’ what the mind forgets).
On the other hand, tis past time for we, who populate the world, to openly confront the fearsome fact that heartless bestiality (which conflicts with our heartfelt conviction that we live in a civilized world) all too often lurks in the work place or in a classroom, or in our neighbor's home, right next door, or even worse, within our extended family, or heaven forbid, can be heard lumbering around in a bedroom just down the hall, stalking the safety of an innocent child, who, sleeping fitfully, fears illicit conjugal visits in the dark of night—suggesting that blind denial is popular state of mind, because reality and anxiety so often go hand in hand.
As long as smart-hearts remain naive about the fact that both sides of human nature vie for space within every person's brain, fate will continue to place children and underlings in harms way 'neath the heel of authority figures, whose minds, mangled during their childhood, have lost all sense of clarity concerning right and wrong.
As to my aging process, that fearsome reality can’t help but resurface at this stage of life each time my birthday draws near—What, already???
As to missing my Dad even more than usual—a flash of insight spotlighted this week's upsurge of emotion as being a repetitive event. Why? Well ...
Happy birthday, Dad. Today, we'd have gathered in celebration of your 104th.
As to yesteryear's eruptive sense of anxiety overwhelming my hard won connection to inner peace, during recent weeks, well, that's where knowledge, patience and a creative plan of action come in to calm down natural eruptions of emotional reactivity, and as knowledge and patience to wait out my brain’s conscious absorption of my natural reaction to current events (all of which prove beyond my control) are already mine, all my think tank needs to do is to employ creativity to conjure up another simple plan of action that's shaping up as I write, which will prove so optimistic as to guide my think tank to follow this bouncing ball:
Step one:
When considering each of the anxiety-producing situations above, I need to remind myself that there's nothing new under the sun, and my immediate family is alive, safe and well
Step two:
Repeat step one until this current episode of fearsome discomfort feels relieved
Step three:
Speed up step two by consciously appreciating my family's good fortune, because, thus far, fate has kept my loved ones safe from lasting harm
As to Dad's birthday—I smile with gratitude to think of the good, though not perfect, immigrant child from Poland (brought to the new world by parents, who’d hoped to better their lives), who grew up to be such a good man as to personify my first superhero by openly expressing the depth of his love for family and friends with all his heart, every day of his life ...
I love you, Mom and Dad ...
And knowing that you could not have imagined experiences, which
I never voiced aloud
Thank you for doing your best to keep me safe from harm
Thursday, November 9, 2017
WHICH AM I—TORTOISE OR HARE?
This post, penned last summer, is being published for your consideration (and mine) today:
I think it's important to note that
Often times, the creative portion of
My brain sees me as whom
I yearn to be rather than whom
I've actually grown to be, thus far
But that's not a bad thing as long as
I continue to strive to attain greater degrees
Of personal growth though perhaps
More at a turtle's pace than a hare's, which
Proves to be a good thing, being that
The hare hopped off track by leaping from
Here to there while the tortoise kept
Its focus on its chosen path till the
Finish line came clearly into view
In short, while writing, I grow aware of insight serving as
A beacon of light shining upon some aspect of reality that
I'd thought resolved, which still undermines the peaceful state of
My mind, and that's important to note for this reason:
For the most part, whether writing or not, my well practiced
Line of self control keeps me outwardly calm except for
The fact that each time I awaken feeling compelled to
Check myself out at a deeper level of
Conscious awareness by way of writing at 5am
I take that as a clear indication of intuition re-evaluating
My need to confront some aspect of subconscious turbulence that
Remains unresolved, and in this way does writing serve to
Slow whatever ride through the rapids is bound to turn up during
This next stage of my mental development, and with
Today's train of thought streaming clearly through
My conscious mind, I surmise that today's post is
Affirming my belief in the calming power of intuition offering
My conscious awareness timely flashes of insight concerning
Subconscious conflicts (demonstrating readiness to filter into
My conscious mind) before my trait of openness turns me into
A babbling brook, suggesting that flashes of insight offer me
The foresight to stabilize my think tank's connection to logic so that
Any resurgence of repressed anxiety (based in the eruption of
Yesteryear's complex unprocessed emotion, does not throw
My think tank off track by hijacking my intuitive intelligence, unnecessarily
Ohhmmm ...
Thursday, November 9, 2017
When most of your life has been spent unconsciously holding anger, sadness and/or fear at bay, and then an unexpected experience offers you reason to decide to muster the courage and humility to acknowledge and work toward disassembling your wall of denial in hopes of following Socrates' guidance so as to come to know both sides of the adult whom you've grown up to be, it should come as no surprise that much of the repressed angst that spills out of subconscious pockets will not feel pleasant or peaceful at all, and today’s train of thought inspires me to say: Thank goodness my processor, which has taken turns being tortoise and hare (the former seeking protection from predators by retreating into its shell; the latter seeking protection from predators by leaping away from open confrontation, disappearing, quick as a wink, into a dark hole) is now neither, and here is why that change for the better is true: The processor that does my thinking, today, continues to acknowledge and accomplish the work necessary to develop a well-balanced (self assertive, yet mutually respectful) voice of its own, so that each time some random stimulation empowers yesteryear's unprocessed anxiety to erupt, my spirit can calmly and patiently place its faith in the fact my proclivity toward personal growth will tolerate the arousal of yesteryear’s emotional discomfort without feeling need to bite off an adversary's head, and here's what inspires that change for the better in my reactivity to take place naturally, repeatedly: My conscious connection to intuitive intelligence suggests that once surging anxiety abates, the peace-keeping nature of my adult think tank will get to work, identifying whatever inner conflict has been attempting to slip through a crack in my defense system's wall of denial, and once insight shines its spotlight upon the primary source of that specific inner conflict, my conscious awareness alerts my inner strengths to rise to the occasion and clarify the most creative way to brainstorm that inner conflict, toward effective resolution, once and for all. Please note that I could not hope to accomplish the complex nature of this mental work until an astutely trained professional counselor raised questions that served to guide my intuitive intelligence to arouse my curiosity to thirst for knowledge concerning the complex nature of the many interactive functions of my brain. And one of the self-empowering lessons that I've encountered, time and again, is this one:
My first thought is not necessarily my best thought. It's just my first thought.
And that’s especially true when my first thought has not dived so deep beneath the surface of my conscious awareness as to peek through a crack in my defensive wall of denial so as to clarify a deeper truth that’s attempting to filter its way out of subconscious memory so as to speak to my conscious awareness of need to pinpoint exactly where I am currently deceiving myself.
For example, my original thought was that this week's inner tension has been associated with my aging process leading toward death, but today, the depths of my love for my dad emerged, and I came to see that my angst has been based in how deeply I've missed his presence, over these past fifteen years, and perhaps that last flash of insight may inspire you to ask: Why did fifteen years pass before repressed feelings of grief for your father—who was quite a character—were aroused, this week?
PS
You might want to review the last two paragraphs of the post published yesterday, because those paragraphs were not added until today ...
I think it's important to note that
Often times, the creative portion of
My brain sees me as whom
I yearn to be rather than whom
I've actually grown to be, thus far
But that's not a bad thing as long as
I continue to strive to attain greater degrees
Of personal growth though perhaps
More at a turtle's pace than a hare's, which
Proves to be a good thing, being that
The hare hopped off track by leaping from
Here to there while the tortoise kept
Its focus on its chosen path till the
Finish line came clearly into view
In short, while writing, I grow aware of insight serving as
A beacon of light shining upon some aspect of reality that
I'd thought resolved, which still undermines the peaceful state of
My mind, and that's important to note for this reason:
For the most part, whether writing or not, my well practiced
Line of self control keeps me outwardly calm except for
The fact that each time I awaken feeling compelled to
Check myself out at a deeper level of
Conscious awareness by way of writing at 5am
I take that as a clear indication of intuition re-evaluating
My need to confront some aspect of subconscious turbulence that
Remains unresolved, and in this way does writing serve to
Slow whatever ride through the rapids is bound to turn up during
This next stage of my mental development, and with
Today's train of thought streaming clearly through
My conscious mind, I surmise that today's post is
Affirming my belief in the calming power of intuition offering
My conscious awareness timely flashes of insight concerning
Subconscious conflicts (demonstrating readiness to filter into
My conscious mind) before my trait of openness turns me into
A babbling brook, suggesting that flashes of insight offer me
The foresight to stabilize my think tank's connection to logic so that
Any resurgence of repressed anxiety (based in the eruption of
Yesteryear's complex unprocessed emotion, does not throw
My think tank off track by hijacking my intuitive intelligence, unnecessarily
Ohhmmm ...
Thursday, November 9, 2017
When most of your life has been spent unconsciously holding anger, sadness and/or fear at bay, and then an unexpected experience offers you reason to decide to muster the courage and humility to acknowledge and work toward disassembling your wall of denial in hopes of following Socrates' guidance so as to come to know both sides of the adult whom you've grown up to be, it should come as no surprise that much of the repressed angst that spills out of subconscious pockets will not feel pleasant or peaceful at all, and today’s train of thought inspires me to say: Thank goodness my processor, which has taken turns being tortoise and hare (the former seeking protection from predators by retreating into its shell; the latter seeking protection from predators by leaping away from open confrontation, disappearing, quick as a wink, into a dark hole) is now neither, and here is why that change for the better is true: The processor that does my thinking, today, continues to acknowledge and accomplish the work necessary to develop a well-balanced (self assertive, yet mutually respectful) voice of its own, so that each time some random stimulation empowers yesteryear's unprocessed anxiety to erupt, my spirit can calmly and patiently place its faith in the fact my proclivity toward personal growth will tolerate the arousal of yesteryear’s emotional discomfort without feeling need to bite off an adversary's head, and here's what inspires that change for the better in my reactivity to take place naturally, repeatedly: My conscious connection to intuitive intelligence suggests that once surging anxiety abates, the peace-keeping nature of my adult think tank will get to work, identifying whatever inner conflict has been attempting to slip through a crack in my defense system's wall of denial, and once insight shines its spotlight upon the primary source of that specific inner conflict, my conscious awareness alerts my inner strengths to rise to the occasion and clarify the most creative way to brainstorm that inner conflict, toward effective resolution, once and for all. Please note that I could not hope to accomplish the complex nature of this mental work until an astutely trained professional counselor raised questions that served to guide my intuitive intelligence to arouse my curiosity to thirst for knowledge concerning the complex nature of the many interactive functions of my brain. And one of the self-empowering lessons that I've encountered, time and again, is this one:
My first thought is not necessarily my best thought. It's just my first thought.
And that’s especially true when my first thought has not dived so deep beneath the surface of my conscious awareness as to peek through a crack in my defensive wall of denial so as to clarify a deeper truth that’s attempting to filter its way out of subconscious memory so as to speak to my conscious awareness of need to pinpoint exactly where I am currently deceiving myself.
For example, my original thought was that this week's inner tension has been associated with my aging process leading toward death, but today, the depths of my love for my dad emerged, and I came to see that my angst has been based in how deeply I've missed his presence, over these past fifteen years, and perhaps that last flash of insight may inspire you to ask: Why did fifteen years pass before repressed feelings of grief for your father—who was quite a character—were aroused, this week?
PS
You might want to review the last two paragraphs of the post published yesterday, because those paragraphs were not added until today ...
Wednesday, November 8, 2017
HOW DO YOU KNOW WHEN A REPRESSED FEAR HAS FULLY EMERGED?
Penned last summer, posted today:
At times when my processor feels disconnected from completing a simple task
Tis not a matter of 'finding time' but rather a matter of intuition alerting
My think tank to bide its time until a relaxed sense of mental readiness has been
Regained after a surging emergence of suppressed emotion has
Broken through my wall of denial, releasing a flash of insight, illuminating
A deeper truth that I’ve managed to hide from my conscious self until
My brain’s intuitive powers, sensing a growth spurt, which advances
My brain’s intuitive powers, sensing a growth spurt, which advances
My current stage of mental development another step forward, alerts
My processor’s sense of readiness to identify, confront and
My processor’s sense of readiness to identify, confront and
Resolve yet another inner conflict, which, being unidentified, disempowered
My processor’s conscious awareness from understanding its chaotic state of
Disarray so as to have rendered my think tank to confounded to confront
This specific, fear-based dilemma that proves in need of
Deeper contemplation than had been possible when anxiety had overwhelmed
My processor’s conscious awareness from understanding its chaotic state of
Disarray so as to have rendered my think tank to confounded to confront
This specific, fear-based dilemma that proves in need of
Deeper contemplation than had been possible when anxiety had overwhelmed
My smart-hearted intelligence from peaceably accepting a reality that proves
Classic and universal to all people, everywhere, concerning the fact that
No matter how youthful the mind remains and the spirit feels
The human body continues to age, stage by stage, and with that
Reality weighing heavily on my conscious mind, due to
My advancement through this present stage of my life
No amount of Ohhmmm has been able to relax my processor to
Switch tracks from fear to optimism, concerning that which
Lies in wait dead ahead, and as long as those
Subconscious rumblings of what’s bound to come
Seep like silent joy killers into my semi-conscious mind
My heightened sense of self awareness feels unable to reclaim
Its mindful sense of balance, suggesting why the time is ripe for
Intuitive intelligence to stimulate my inner need to call forth
Creativity while penning this post in which
Today’s train of thought is about to conjure up
Anothet simple three step plan in hopes of calming anxiety by
Jumpstarting my processor’s proactive sense of optimism:
My advancement through this present stage of my life
No amount of Ohhmmm has been able to relax my processor to
Switch tracks from fear to optimism, concerning that which
Lies in wait dead ahead, and as long as those
Subconscious rumblings of what’s bound to come
Seep like silent joy killers into my semi-conscious mind
My heightened sense of self awareness feels unable to reclaim
Its mindful sense of balance, suggesting why the time is ripe for
Intuitive intelligence to stimulate my inner need to call forth
Creativity while penning this post in which
Today’s train of thought is about to conjure up
Anothet simple three step plan in hopes of calming anxiety by
Jumpstarting my processor’s proactive sense of optimism:
Step one—Offer my processor’s present state of anxiety
the soothing patience that I'd graciously gift a friend.
Step two—Clearly choose to set this complex task of conflict resolution aside until natural waves of emerging emotion no longer threaten to overwhelm my conscious mind's peaceful connection to logic.
Step three—Repeat steps one and two until conscious thoughts of completing this complex task match my calmed sense of internal readiness to openly confront the frightful nature of this unrepressed, newly revealed deeper truth, which, having managed to slip out of subconscious storage, has startled my conscious sense of self awareness with need to muster the courage and humility necessary to disempower this fear of reality from scaring my think tank into inaction, overlong
And now that my intuitive powers have outlined my processor’s three-step proactive plan of inaction until readiness overcomes my fear of openly and fully confronting a reality that all people wrestle with whether our brains tend toward positivity or negativity concerning one's own death, we can see that today's organized train of thought suggests that my connection to logic is only disrupted when thoughts of the death of a loved one overwhelm my mind with subconscious awareness of the fact that I, too, as well as many of my loved ones have advanced into the fourth stage of life, suggesting tis not the simple task that remains undone, which has been in need of clear-headed contemplation, but rather the flood of complex emotions, which threaten to erupt like a rip tide pulling my conscious awareness ever so deeply into a turbulent ocean of fear, suggestive as to why my mind floods with resistance each time I ask myself if readiness to accomplish any simple task, peacefully, is mine, and now that intuitive intelligence hath spotlighted that last flash of insight illuminating my rebellious state of mind, tis plain to see why any thought that's not nearly as meaningful as this task, which threatens to tap into a deeper truth that my defense system feels need to stuff behind my wall of denial, suggests my need to confront this next fact as well: If the mere thought of completing a simple task threatens to expose emotional reactions too potent for Ohhmmm to appease then my intuitive intelligence must beseech my sense of compassion to draw forth as much patience as proves necessary until my rebalanced sense of clarity has calmed my fear of calamity so as to steady my think tank’s readiness to reconnect with my spirit's healthy, heartfelt, natural sense of go-ahead ...
Ohhmmm ...
Ohhmmm ...
Hmmmm ...
No green light, as of yet ... so perhaps the primary (negatively focused) fear that's exacerbating my current sense of inner conflict, which stops me from reconnecting with my sense of inner peace, has not yet fully emerged ...
Wednesday, November 8, 2017
I'm thinking that the post above was written soon after my brother-in-law's death in August.
I'm thinking to know why this post was 'randomly' plucked from drafts, today ...
I'm thinking that my 74th birthday is exactly a month away
I'm thinking that time flies by so quickly as to offer me a birthday twice a year!
I'm thinking of how my body tires though my spirit thoroughly enjoys a playdate with Ravi
I'm thinking that my sense of reality can no longer deny that my body ages, every day ...
I'm thinking that each birthday sweeps me closer to ... OY VAY!
I'm thinking that reconciling with the reality of one's mortality is far from easy!
I'm thinking that reconciling with the reality of one's mortality is far from easy!
I'm thinking that my intuitive smarts have need to redirect my conscious awareness toward my good fortune on an every day basis, because there's no time like the present to appreciate every moment shared with loved ones, which at this stage of my life naturally comes my way due to the fact that what goes around comes around, and as long as my mind remains trained upon an intuitive line of reasoning as positively focused as this one proves to be, hopefully, insight, illuminating fear of what the future is bound to offer up, will be placed on a back burner freeing this light-hearted moment's sense of optimism to ignite my spirit's flagging energy level to lift to full mast for as long as my power of intuitive intelligent reminds the conscious portion of my mind to seize each day by concentrating most often on my personal sense of good fortune.
Seriously, I have good genes in that my dad, who lived to eighty-seven, and my mom who celebrated one hundred years with family and friends, both experienced good health much more often than not all the way to the very end of each one's life, suggesting my betting on the optimistic possibility of enjoying good health over this last fourth of my life span that lies straight ahead as long as my brain's intuitive intelligence continues to release flashes of insight spotlighting my inner need to identify future uprisings of repressed inner conflict so as to quell the emergence of subconscious anxiety in short order. Whew!
This growth-in-self-awareness stuff is a tough job; however, when it comes to balancing my brain's emotional reaction with logical thought processing intact, I've learned that no one can achieve that knowledge-based feat for me but me!
During hard times when anxiety spikes, people are always saying:
Take good care of yourself
But very few tell you how best to accomplish that feat for this reason:
For the most part, those offering caring advice have no clue as to
How to accomplish that feat for themselves ...
Seriously, I have good genes in that my dad, who lived to eighty-seven, and my mom who celebrated one hundred years with family and friends, both experienced good health much more often than not all the way to the very end of each one's life, suggesting my betting on the optimistic possibility of enjoying good health over this last fourth of my life span that lies straight ahead as long as my brain's intuitive intelligence continues to release flashes of insight spotlighting my inner need to identify future uprisings of repressed inner conflict so as to quell the emergence of subconscious anxiety in short order. Whew!
This growth-in-self-awareness stuff is a tough job; however, when it comes to balancing my brain's emotional reaction with logical thought processing intact, I've learned that no one can achieve that knowledge-based feat for me but me!
During hard times when anxiety spikes, people are always saying:
Take good care of yourself
But very few tell you how best to accomplish that feat for this reason:
For the most part, those offering caring advice have no clue as to
How to accomplish that feat for themselves ...
Tuesday, November 7, 2017
COME OUT COME OUT, WHEREVER YOU ARE
This post, penned last summer, was retrieved from drafts, today:
When considering need to switch tracks away from ineffectual (self-serving) leadership, intuitive thought suggests that nations throughout the world have been rudderless for so long as to call upon the universal spirit to sprinkle mankind with a rebalanced sense of objectivity in time to make haste, because we, who populate our planet, have not one precious moment left to lose, and though patience is a virtue, I respectfully challenge people the world over to empower your voices to choir up with mine as together we implore effective leadership to come out, come out, wherever you are, because the human condition has need to rally round a voice, empowered with astute intelligence that far outweighs the ego residing in The White House, which proves so braggadocios as to be more consumed with tweeting than leading the populous toward a safer tomorrow ... Ohhmmm
Being drawn toward anything relating to that which influenced the thought processes of my favorite authors, I recently read MOCKINGBIRD SONGS by Flynt Wayne, whose narrative describes Harper Lee's family upon whom the characters in TO KILL A MOCKINGBIRD were patterned, and I quote: “Decades earlier, during the civil rights movement, the mayor of Eufaula had asked Louise (Harper Lee’s sister) to serve on a ... committee ... called Community on the Move. This five-person group had been started by a black woman Louise knew who was concerned about education, racial divisions, and drug trafficking in their town. Louise, asking the committee founder what she could contribute to the effort, was told simply, 'You have a white face.' Some local folks would have been offended by such tokenism. Louise agreed to serve. She and the other committee members met twice weekly, ate together, discussed community problems, and tried to make the town better. Her black friend began stopping by for coffee, a small act of personal friendship in most places but a racial blurring of the color line in civil rights–era Eufaula.”
In another passage, Wayne goes on to say: “Citing her father as inspiration, Louise explained to us that he had been ... a man of honor and personal decency, attuned to his duty as a community leader, one who treated all people fairly and with respect, though he was not liberal, self-righteous, or ostentatiously religious. His Methodist upbringing had persuaded him ‘that the Kingdom of God was as much concerned with justice in Alabama as with heaven in the hereafter.’ Although he did not endorse the civil rights movement as early as Alice (another sister) and Nelle (Harper Lee’s nick name), he moved more rapidly than most white Alabamians.”
Tuesday, November 7, 2017
This description of effective leadership speaks of character traits missing, not only in our current president but in our self-serving Congress, as well ... and so I repeat: Our nation has been stuck between a rock and a hard place, overlong, so wherever effective leadership may be hiding from public view, ‘tis time to come out and lead the free world toward safely leaving our homes with family and friends without fear of being blown up or gunned down ...
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