Sunday, December 3, 2017

EMPATHY HAS ITS LIMITS FOR SOUND REASON

Why does my Fixer die so hard?
Because my connection to empathy knows no limits
I breathe in the pain of others as my own, and since
This reaction has been true of my history beginning
At the age of three, you might ask:  What change
Took place, last summer, when this energy field felt
Self empowered from deep within to actually switch tracks from
Empathy toward compassion, and in order to
Answer your query, I’ll offer this insight, spotlighting
The set of experiences that alerted my conscious awareness of
 My need to jump-start a healthy change for the better within
The subconscious portion of my psyche, because
I’ve walked through the door on the historical time line where
The next generation to die is my own, and though that sounds
Morbid, deeper truth deems my awareness proactive, because
Drawing forth empathy for everyone’s loss will surely deplete
My spirit of life sustaining energy, which clarity, knowing
Me, highlights this next insight as a matter of fact:  my reactiveness
Is in need of a hot wired change, beginning not next week, or
Tomorrow but ASAP ... why?  Because life-long patterns, like
Habits, are hard to change in the absence of focused work, and
Despite losses, which will prove very sad for my heart to bear
I’m determined to enjoy this last stage of my life with those I love most

As to the set of recent events that catalyzed my awareness of
The haste with which this change for the better, concerning
My energy field, feels crucial ... memory releases the recent
Demise of my two cousins, both my junior, followed by
Will’s loss of his brother, followed by two friends over
The past couple of weeks, and though I felt my spirit sinking
Here comes the bright light of insight that ignites my hopeful
Awareness of my life-long reactive pattern transitioning
Step by step, through change for the better, over the past year or two:
In each case, I did not feel half dead, as had been true of myself ever since
My baby sister’s death, when my mother could not leave her bed and
Nothing about my existence brought her spirit back to life.
And then, unsbeknown to either of us, Mom and I repeated those roles
Fifteen years ago, in the aftermath of my father’s death until ...
Seven years later, at which time the depths of
My empathetic reactiveness, which felt compelled to cater to
My mother’s every need in hopes of lifting the black veil of
Death’s pain away from my mother’s beautiful face, drained
Every drop of life sustaining energy out of my heart, mind and
Spirit, most especially because she never showed her lifetime of
Repressed anger, of which her defense system denied
Her conscious awareness the insight to acknowledge, and so
The depths of her fury remained unnamed, unresolved, tightly
Sewn into a pocket of her subconscious, the stitches so even as to
Barely free spurts of anger to ooze, wet, red hot and raw, over
Anyone she’d loved, over her entire life (I don’t need therapy) until
A rush of gushing angst would burst through her
Tender-heart’s wall of denial during rare fights behind
Closed doors with immediate family when she’d stand up in
Defense of her self respect to her mother or
My dad or my sister, Lauren, or me, and each of us would
Naturally strike back ... until as an adult, consciously versed in
Mutually respectful conflict resolution, I’d not strike back, and as
My mom was not versed in this area of expertise, she’d had no clue of
Having responded to my rationality with displaced anger that would
Lash out and devour my sense of emotional safety whole
(I’m in the hospital because of you!), just as I’d witnessed
My mother’s mother lash out at her, but by that time
My spirit (and Mom’s) had sunk so low that the energy level that
Fueled my intelligence had burned out, leaving my processor
Nothing to plug into in hopes of connecting the dots that
Made no sense until years later, when I was
ASTUTELY DIAGNOSED WITH PTSD, at which time
My intelligence was gently guided to tap into
The courageous mental energy necessary to quest toward
 Classic answers, based in deeper truths, by engaging with
My power of intuition which has been walking me through
Various stages of my past, so fully determined is my spirit to
Identify and release my own repressed pain in hopes of gaining
Healing strength by way of injecting my processor with strings of
Inter-related insight (rather than mood-changing drugs) concerning
The intricate functionality of the human brain (namely mine),which
Harbors deeper truth next door to hypocrisy, and that piece of
Unsettling knowledge served to hot wire
My intuitive intelligence to my sense of intrigue’s hunger to feed
Classic wisdom to my think tank in hopes of gaining a deepening
Understanding of the confounding nature of the negatively charged
Energy exchange that I’d felt but could not reverse with love, concerning
The slow demise of my treasured friendship with my mother, and
Though I had no conscious awareness of my inner detective’s need to
Connect the dots conjoining the bewildering spiritually
Devastating, mind blowing change in our adult friendship during
The sad years following Dad’s death with
The bewildering natural change in my relationship with
My beloved mother in the traumatic months following
My baby sister’s death, with time, I came to see that
My power of intuition, my spirit guide, had grasped the concept of
Mirroring, and eventually, my spirit guide began to sense
My readiness to grasp one string of .insights after another
Right up to and inclusive of today’s, and once again ...
Repetition proves not redundant when the intuitive retention of
Inner peace requires probing more deeply into
Subconscious memory than ever before ...
And today’s intuitive train of thought leads me to ask
Why do we reference elephants with such frequency, as in:
She has the memory of an elephant ...
It’s time to identify the elephant in the room ...
If you see only the elephant’s tail then you only get
The end of the story as in hal of a story may be
A whole different story than the true tale

I hope today’s Post makes sense to you, because
The complex nature of my current, lengthy intuitive
Train of thought, which has been struggling to unboggle
My conscious state of mind, over many weeks, still feels
Deeply complex to me for this reason:
Though I know very little about the psychology of metaphysics
I do know this: Everything that lives is made up of energy, both
Negatively and positively charged, and having challenged
My intelligence with working toward changing
My internal energy field feels as inconceivable
As imagining myself an astronaut, blasting toward the moon
And you know what they say about blasting toward the moon, right?
Shoot for the moon and you’ll land among the stars ...
So, while my intelligence has focused its spotlight upon retiring the Fixer
Guess who just leaped out onto center stage from her hiding place
In the wings?  My over achiever!  Agh!  Hey!  Shakespeare!
Had no one thunk to tell you that
Much Ado About Nothing Wrong Right Now ought to have been
Penned and lauded as a one act play rather than a trilogy!
Enough already!  Please!  Is it too much to
Ask my mind to function on a plane that’s less taxing for a change!

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