Friday, June 1, 2018

2018—HEAD ON COLLISION Part 4f

Riddles:
If you ask what causes a couple who loves each other to separate, I’d reply:
All too often, the main causation points toward undisciplined emotionality, which having been subconsciously repressed, transforms, over time, into layers of pressurized inner tension born of unremitting frustrations, which, remaining unexpressed and unresolved, coil tightly within one brain or the other until that proverbial last straw causes our nervous systems to blow a gasket, releasing those tightly wound coils of frustration to spring out, like shrapnel, spraying around so hotly as to stimulate the arousal of both defense systems, which violently push each other away until both hearts, feeling deeply wounded, dive for cover as if to save their lives—and if deeply coiled frustration bursts open from within both, simultaneously, then all hell breaks loose; World War III explodes, and the casualties sustaining the most serious wounds are our young.

Having experienced that sequence of events take place between my mother and her mother during my child, I, once motherhood was mine, paid mind to my intuitive powers guiding me to create and role model five communication tools in hopes of resolving conflicts (which were bound to arise between parent and offspring), in a calm and thus logical manner.  And as each of these tools has worked well at times when the heated nature of mental conflicts would have caused deeply valued relationships to grow so hot as to melt down into liquid lightening, burning love to a crisp, the teacher in me felt compelled to take them on the road so as to share the wealth of knowledge that I’d chosen to file in an orderly manner within my memory.  For example, each time coils of inner tension blow a gasket, flinging emotional shrapnel around, I call forth my well-practiced Line of Control to calm my defensive reaction so as not to intensify the explosive nature of the emotional climate, at hand ...

If you ask why my intuitive powers guided me to post this specific train of thought, today, I’d reply:  I’ve been witnessing several explosive situations heating up in such a smoldering slow roasting manner as to ready the voice of my fixer to leap out of retirement so as to ring out with this alarm—Dive for cover!  'Thar' she (or he) blows!

If you ask why the intuitive portion of my think tank guided me to pen this post when most of my brain is biting at the bit to set my story teller free, I’d reply:  Today’s insight-driven train of thought is readying my recently retired fixer to keep an umbrella handy in case liquid lightening, simulating TNT, ignites the last straw's short fuse, here or there, stimulating swollen storm clouds to burst.  In short, if I don’t restrain the recently retired Fixer, who resides within my brain, she’s bound to do one of two things (both of which are nothing short of futile):  Dive into the deep in hopes of discerning how best to patch a love boat, which has sprung a leak but is not mine to captain or trot off to the lumberyard with plans in hand to recreate Noah’s Ark ...

So now you see (as do I) why posting a blog, which keeps my mind current, suits me better than penning a memoir, which draws my mind solely into the past:  Though I’ve consciously worked to discipline most aspects of my life, time devoted to writing offers my build up of inner tension a venue in which to carefully uncap my release valve, freeing my deeply repressed frustration to uncoil in a peaceful, productive, yet self protective, manner.  In short my blog serves as the receptacle into which each portion of my brain freely communicates openly and clearly with the others, resulting in releasing pent up frustration while simultaneously regaining and maintaining a well-balanced sense of insight concerning my need to identify defensive contradictions (most especially my own) in need of spotlighting so as to detour my Retired Fixer away from barreling straight into each emotionally charged lightening strike, which, rather than seeing me as an ally may sadly mistake me for a tree..

Finally, if you ask how my sixth sense knows when a loved one's release valve is showing signs of nearing the countdown whereby tightly coiled shards of emotional shrapnel are bound to blow so high as to rickashay and strike me down, I’d reply:  Beentherehadthathappentwice  (Hmmm—make that thrice—being that my spirit had sound reason to crash at the tender age of three when the specter of death darkened the doorway of my birth family’s third floor apartment, after which life changed so confoundingly as to have spun my strong-minded, independent spirit toward becoming a conventional, deeply confused, world class pleaser—literally overnight.)

I find it of interest to note that the titles of recent posts adapt so aptly from car crashes to love matches that crash, as well.

And with that play on words in mind, my power of intuition is signaling the writer, who resides within another apartment inside my think tank, to listen up so as to absorb one more insight, which, being based in common sense, should come as no surprise:  From time to time, we all feel need to uncoil tightly wound frustration, which then crashes head-on into a loved one's emotional reaction.  The trick to resuscitating a vibrant attitude, concerning love and life so as to assure your spirit of thriving rather than merely surviving is to equip a personal parachute with a steering wheel so as to direct yourself to land so far from the site of the crash as not to burn your smarts to crisp ...

LOVE OF LIFE PROVES RIDDLED WITH RIDDLES
Ever since the beginning of time
Life has always been riddled with riddles
And as the same proves true of love
We are each charged with
Answering many of those unknowns for
Ourselves, most especially when
Deeply valued relationships
Riddle our sense of peace with
Layers of frustration that darken
Our perceptions of reality until
Repressed fears are
Identified, examined and expunged
And here is why certain riddles remain
More difficult to resolve than others:
Often times, the answer to
The riddle that disrupts
Your inner peace or mine
Must be sought buried deep within
The subconscious portion of
Your brain or mine where unexamined fears
Secreted from conscious awareness, remain
Repressed behind our very own
Defensive walls of denial, each of which
Must be dismantled, layer by layer, so as
Not to blind us from identifying
Deeper truths that will free
Your mind and mine from engaging
Repeatedly in wrestling matches with
Undeserved guilt, unnecessarily

THE MIRACLE OF INSIGHT
Up to bat
Blind denial of
Subconscious fear
Strike out
Spirit crashes
No burns in sight
Stand up
Time passes
Up to bat
Blind denial of
Subconscious fear
Strike out
Spirit crashes
No burns in sight
Stand up
Time passes
Up to bat
Open eyes to insight
Hit a homer
How'd that miraculous change for
The better take place?
Lesson learned:
Keep my eye trained on insight
So as not to blindly swing
Bat at loved ones’ heads 
This plan of action focuses
My smarts upon achieving
Heartfelt, personal goals
Resulting in batting average
And spirit on the rise ...
Hoping to see ya in the dugout
For insight-driven, eye opening
Batting practice
When next we meet

Riddle:
What serves as my spirit’s parachute in the aftermath of a crash?

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