While standing on the threshold of whatever fate has in store for us next, Will and I linger within each other's embrace before making our way from the garage, into the house, through the laundry room, living room and dining room toward the kitchen, where I note that, once again, Will is holding the mail in one hand while the other holds tightly onto mine.
Upon placing the mail, unopened, on the kitchen island, Will turns toward me, and I find myself caught up within his arms as my husband kisses me more urgently than I can remember for quite some time. As an unexpected arousal of emotion intertwines with my sense of disbelief, confusion, swirling through my mind, heightens my dazed state to a slightly dizzying degree.
In retrospect, reflection suggests that during times of crises, several combustible emotions, acting like combatant opponents, collide inside the mind. This collision creates the dizzying sensation that blocks my brain from balancing emotion with logic—pinpointing, again, my reason for having invented a mind calming tool that rebalances my thought processor in record time: The Line Of Control.
With this tool in hand, my brain is capable of righting itself after a sudden sense of dizzied mindlessness throws my mental state of mindfulness into calapse. By taking a spontaneous time out to reorganize my thought processor, I discipline my brain to transform emotional reactivity into logical reflectivity—on the spot. Once logical reflectivity is intact, my brain functions in a well-balanced and thus wholly intelligent manner.
At an earlier stage in my life before my imagaination conjured up The Line of Control—in hopes of inspiring Barry, Steven and David to employ self discipline with each other—that spontaneous process of quick-action-change-for-the-better would have been impossible for me to pull off. Thank goodness, I'd known to practice what I'd preached with consistency while raising three, highly impressionable, fully energized boys, because, over time, The Line of Control became habitual for me during those rough-and-tumble years when I'd role-modeled self controlled reflectivity for our sons as well as for their passel of buds, who'd camped out at our house nearly every weekend, year in and year out. I guess it's fair to say that in addition to being Mom to my sons, I'd adopted an entire team of guys, made up of all ages, to—coach :)
If you ask: Annie, how did The Line of Control modify your first reaction upon hearing that Will's choice was to remain at work? I'd reply: Well, my first reaction after hanging up the phone was to wish that Will would have chosen to come straight home, because I didn't want to be alone. The self absorbed nature of that reactive thought caused frustration to rise. (Did you know that our thoughts create that which we feel?)
As I know that two colliding emotions with a negative bent—like anxiety intertwined with frustration—run interference with clarity, I know to pause my first train of thought in favor of inhaling deeply while clearing my mind at least enough to place Will's needs above my needs, which had risen instinctively. As I know that my needs rise instinctively, I knew myself to be human rather than selfish.
By the time I sit down with Ellie, my mind, still slightly dizzied with anxious disbelief, is consciously working to minimize frustration in hopes of regaining some sense of order, which will offer me this semblance of clarity.
So I say to self: This worrisome situation is not primarily about me. This is about Will's survival. And with that reorganized thought in mind I feel frustration begin to melt away. As frustration decreases, compassion for Will permeates my whole mind, because rather than frustration holding hands with anxiety, anxiety holds hands with compassion, which proves to be an inner strength that cancels all sense of judgment. And in this way does THE LINE OF CONTROL offer my mind time to switch tracks from thoughts which prove self absorbed to thoughts that prove self aware.
Upon consciously choosing to delete judgement in favor of embracing compassion, I strengthen myself to move through the rest of the day in a well balanced way until Will is due to come home. Good thing I'm well versed in the concept of 'problem ownership' (insight into that self-strengthening concept will appear in a story, sometime later).
After hanging up the phone and before opening my mouth to voice my reorganized thoughts, I sit down and scoop up a nourishing spoonful of berries, which Ellie, who knows how frequently I forget to eat, had set out, lovingly, at my place. Then, having washed down this energizing source of nourishment with a sip of sweetened coffee, grown lukewarm, I turn toward Ellie, sitting quietly next to me, to express my readjusted point of view, and I notice my friend's facial expression emotes compassionate disbelief, which mirrors my own. Guess it makes sense to say that the mind can more readily juggle two emotions at once when neither emotion has a negative bent. Having disciplined my thoughts while ingesting the berries, I look at Ellie and calmly say …
Will's biopsy was positive.
I heard. I'm so sorry, Annie.
Gosh, Ellie, I can't imagine how he feels.
Then, staring out the large picture window that frames my mountain, I disappear into my memory bank and silently converse with myself, yet again: Oh wait. Yes I can. He probably feels what I felt when Leo (my neurologist) told me about my brain tumor, and my connection to emotion froze. I know that to be true, because my immediate response upon absorbing my neurologist's diagnosis raised this question: After the surgery, will my intelligence be intact? When Leo answered: Yes, but the location of the tumor and its surgical removal prove problematic for many physical functions (those problems will be addressed in yet another story). I clearly remember replying: Well if my intelligence is intact, I'll handle whatever needs to be handled. With that, Leo turned to Will and said: You have a very strong wife. At this, Will nodded while responding: I know. (Being Leo's collegue, Will had known the results of my MRI before our appointment.) After asking me a barrage of questions, concerning the present state of my neurological functions, Leo recommended a reknown neurosurgeon. Then he asked if I had questions. I remember my response: Not yet. But given time, I'm sure I will. Soon after that, I hugged Leo, and Will and I drove home, together.
In addition to memories flashing clearly through my mind, concerning that difficult day, I remember exactly what I chose to do to keep my wits about me during the weeks leading up to that particular surgery (those memories will unfold within a story all their own). And as other memories arise where self discipline held on to my wits during times of crises, I know myself capable of calling upon the sum of my strengths during life's most challenging times. So you can see why I have sound reason to fully believe in my ability to muster the courage to lift Will's spirit, every day. (Much to my surprise, it's humility that I'll need to muster when objective reflection proves that that which I know of myself vs. that which I believe to be true are not necessarily one and the same.)
As thoughts, concerning inner strengths, clear emotional combusion out of my mind, I remember that Edie is sitting next to me, so turning to my friend, I say: At first, I was surprised that Will told me this kind of news on the phone. I would have broken it to him when we could hold each other. Then, I realized how much he must have needed to 'touch' me, immediately. And with insight into Will's vulnerability, coupled with his need to keep busy, my mind switched from dark thoughts to bright thoughts, which spontaneously lightened my spirit. Once my train of thought had switched tracks from my needs to his, change-for-the-better transformed thoughts that created frustration into thoughts flowing freely with heartfelt compassion, solely for Will. And as my husband's partner and helpmate, I knew myself every bit as ready to embrace my role as Will's best friend as I'd become Angie's right hand man while she battled breast cancer.
What I did not know at that time was this: A haunting vulnerability of which I was unaware would slowly seep out of a secret pocket deep within my mind, and during the weeks that this fear remained in an unidentified state, a growing sense of impending terror wielded the power to scare me witless by gnawing into my survival instinct as Will's surgery drew near …
As it proved impossible to pinpoint that fear for weeks, I questioned why my positive focus had abandoned me, now, when that strength had never failed me whenever life threatening illness or injury had attacked me, personally. Ultimately, instinct tapped into other inner strengths, namely tenacious determination, which managed to squeeze one 'forgotten' memory through the same crack in my mental block that had allowed yesteryear's terror to sneak out and terrify me, mysteriously, until, thank God, that 'forgotten' detail emerged and—whoops—caught myself just in time—focus, Annie, focus on relating this story in an organized fashion …
On this day when Will's cancer diagnosis is brand new, that reality feels unfathomable to a disorienting degree within us both. So, speaking for myself, I re-energize my spirit by focusing my mind upon this positive thought: I'll concentrate solely on bolstering my husband's spirit as lovingly as possible, come what may, throughout his time of need. Unfortunately, I forgot to remember two facts: Firstly, man plans and God laughs. Secondly, reflection suggests that we all too easily forget that emotion is unpredictable, and emotion's unpredictability is one of many reasons why life can only be lived one day at a time …
Guess what? While today's train of thought was winding down, another riddle popped up and out of the depths of my mind :)
Riddle:
How does humility, which openly acknowledges vulnerability, strengthen leadership skills over the long run?
Upon placing the mail, unopened, on the kitchen island, Will turns toward me, and I find myself caught up within his arms as my husband kisses me more urgently than I can remember for quite some time. As an unexpected arousal of emotion intertwines with my sense of disbelief, confusion, swirling through my mind, heightens my dazed state to a slightly dizzying degree.
In retrospect, reflection suggests that during times of crises, several combustible emotions, acting like combatant opponents, collide inside the mind. This collision creates the dizzying sensation that blocks my brain from balancing emotion with logic—pinpointing, again, my reason for having invented a mind calming tool that rebalances my thought processor in record time: The Line Of Control.
With this tool in hand, my brain is capable of righting itself after a sudden sense of dizzied mindlessness throws my mental state of mindfulness into calapse. By taking a spontaneous time out to reorganize my thought processor, I discipline my brain to transform emotional reactivity into logical reflectivity—on the spot. Once logical reflectivity is intact, my brain functions in a well-balanced and thus wholly intelligent manner.
At an earlier stage in my life before my imagaination conjured up The Line of Control—in hopes of inspiring Barry, Steven and David to employ self discipline with each other—that spontaneous process of quick-action-change-for-the-better would have been impossible for me to pull off. Thank goodness, I'd known to practice what I'd preached with consistency while raising three, highly impressionable, fully energized boys, because, over time, The Line of Control became habitual for me during those rough-and-tumble years when I'd role-modeled self controlled reflectivity for our sons as well as for their passel of buds, who'd camped out at our house nearly every weekend, year in and year out. I guess it's fair to say that in addition to being Mom to my sons, I'd adopted an entire team of guys, made up of all ages, to—coach :)
If you ask: Annie, how did The Line of Control modify your first reaction upon hearing that Will's choice was to remain at work? I'd reply: Well, my first reaction after hanging up the phone was to wish that Will would have chosen to come straight home, because I didn't want to be alone. The self absorbed nature of that reactive thought caused frustration to rise. (Did you know that our thoughts create that which we feel?)
As I know that two colliding emotions with a negative bent—like anxiety intertwined with frustration—run interference with clarity, I know to pause my first train of thought in favor of inhaling deeply while clearing my mind at least enough to place Will's needs above my needs, which had risen instinctively. As I know that my needs rise instinctively, I knew myself to be human rather than selfish.
By the time I sit down with Ellie, my mind, still slightly dizzied with anxious disbelief, is consciously working to minimize frustration in hopes of regaining some sense of order, which will offer me this semblance of clarity.
So I say to self: This worrisome situation is not primarily about me. This is about Will's survival. And with that reorganized thought in mind I feel frustration begin to melt away. As frustration decreases, compassion for Will permeates my whole mind, because rather than frustration holding hands with anxiety, anxiety holds hands with compassion, which proves to be an inner strength that cancels all sense of judgment. And in this way does THE LINE OF CONTROL offer my mind time to switch tracks from thoughts which prove self absorbed to thoughts that prove self aware.
Upon consciously choosing to delete judgement in favor of embracing compassion, I strengthen myself to move through the rest of the day in a well balanced way until Will is due to come home. Good thing I'm well versed in the concept of 'problem ownership' (insight into that self-strengthening concept will appear in a story, sometime later).
After hanging up the phone and before opening my mouth to voice my reorganized thoughts, I sit down and scoop up a nourishing spoonful of berries, which Ellie, who knows how frequently I forget to eat, had set out, lovingly, at my place. Then, having washed down this energizing source of nourishment with a sip of sweetened coffee, grown lukewarm, I turn toward Ellie, sitting quietly next to me, to express my readjusted point of view, and I notice my friend's facial expression emotes compassionate disbelief, which mirrors my own. Guess it makes sense to say that the mind can more readily juggle two emotions at once when neither emotion has a negative bent. Having disciplined my thoughts while ingesting the berries, I look at Ellie and calmly say …
Will's biopsy was positive.
I heard. I'm so sorry, Annie.
Gosh, Ellie, I can't imagine how he feels.
Then, staring out the large picture window that frames my mountain, I disappear into my memory bank and silently converse with myself, yet again: Oh wait. Yes I can. He probably feels what I felt when Leo (my neurologist) told me about my brain tumor, and my connection to emotion froze. I know that to be true, because my immediate response upon absorbing my neurologist's diagnosis raised this question: After the surgery, will my intelligence be intact? When Leo answered: Yes, but the location of the tumor and its surgical removal prove problematic for many physical functions (those problems will be addressed in yet another story). I clearly remember replying: Well if my intelligence is intact, I'll handle whatever needs to be handled. With that, Leo turned to Will and said: You have a very strong wife. At this, Will nodded while responding: I know. (Being Leo's collegue, Will had known the results of my MRI before our appointment.) After asking me a barrage of questions, concerning the present state of my neurological functions, Leo recommended a reknown neurosurgeon. Then he asked if I had questions. I remember my response: Not yet. But given time, I'm sure I will. Soon after that, I hugged Leo, and Will and I drove home, together.
In addition to memories flashing clearly through my mind, concerning that difficult day, I remember exactly what I chose to do to keep my wits about me during the weeks leading up to that particular surgery (those memories will unfold within a story all their own). And as other memories arise where self discipline held on to my wits during times of crises, I know myself capable of calling upon the sum of my strengths during life's most challenging times. So you can see why I have sound reason to fully believe in my ability to muster the courage to lift Will's spirit, every day. (Much to my surprise, it's humility that I'll need to muster when objective reflection proves that that which I know of myself vs. that which I believe to be true are not necessarily one and the same.)
As thoughts, concerning inner strengths, clear emotional combusion out of my mind, I remember that Edie is sitting next to me, so turning to my friend, I say: At first, I was surprised that Will told me this kind of news on the phone. I would have broken it to him when we could hold each other. Then, I realized how much he must have needed to 'touch' me, immediately. And with insight into Will's vulnerability, coupled with his need to keep busy, my mind switched from dark thoughts to bright thoughts, which spontaneously lightened my spirit. Once my train of thought had switched tracks from my needs to his, change-for-the-better transformed thoughts that created frustration into thoughts flowing freely with heartfelt compassion, solely for Will. And as my husband's partner and helpmate, I knew myself every bit as ready to embrace my role as Will's best friend as I'd become Angie's right hand man while she battled breast cancer.
What I did not know at that time was this: A haunting vulnerability of which I was unaware would slowly seep out of a secret pocket deep within my mind, and during the weeks that this fear remained in an unidentified state, a growing sense of impending terror wielded the power to scare me witless by gnawing into my survival instinct as Will's surgery drew near …
As it proved impossible to pinpoint that fear for weeks, I questioned why my positive focus had abandoned me, now, when that strength had never failed me whenever life threatening illness or injury had attacked me, personally. Ultimately, instinct tapped into other inner strengths, namely tenacious determination, which managed to squeeze one 'forgotten' memory through the same crack in my mental block that had allowed yesteryear's terror to sneak out and terrify me, mysteriously, until, thank God, that 'forgotten' detail emerged and—whoops—caught myself just in time—focus, Annie, focus on relating this story in an organized fashion …
On this day when Will's cancer diagnosis is brand new, that reality feels unfathomable to a disorienting degree within us both. So, speaking for myself, I re-energize my spirit by focusing my mind upon this positive thought: I'll concentrate solely on bolstering my husband's spirit as lovingly as possible, come what may, throughout his time of need. Unfortunately, I forgot to remember two facts: Firstly, man plans and God laughs. Secondly, reflection suggests that we all too easily forget that emotion is unpredictable, and emotion's unpredictability is one of many reasons why life can only be lived one day at a time …
Guess what? While today's train of thought was winding down, another riddle popped up and out of the depths of my mind :)
Riddle:
How does humility, which openly acknowledges vulnerability, strengthen leadership skills over the long run?
