1042 TWINKLE TWINKLE—REVISITED 36

16
Wikipedia
*Déjà vu —(French pronunciation—literally "already seen") is the experience of feeling sure that one has already witnessed or experienced a current situation, even though the exact circumstances of the prior encounter are uncertain … . 

The term was coined by a French psychic esearcher, Emile Boirac, (1851–1917) in his book L'Avenir des sciences psychiques ("The Future of Psychic Sciences").

The experience of déjà vu is usually accompanied by a compelling sense of familiarity, and also a sense of "eeriness", "strangeness", or what Sigmund Freud calls "the uncanny".^[1]

Déjà vu suggests your body is 're-experiencing' emotion, which may be repressed behind your defense system's wall of denial.

Had you been my parents, their agony would have been yours.
If you ask what my parents' suffering has to do with déjà vu, I'd reply:  Please read on …

Had you been me, watching the profound nature of my parents loss, their all-pervasive grief may have been so palpable and confounding—over so many months—as to have been absorbed as empathy, permeating my three-year old vulnerability, straight into my core.  Then, had empathy for their suffering been compounded by my own confounding sense of loss, imagine me developing an inability to differentiate between my parents' pain and my own until intuition directs me to learn about the lasting effects of emotional enmeshment, suggesting that for most of my life, my parents' emotional reactions will arouse similar reactions within me.

As you heard tell of Janet's death rather than partaking in the tragedy, you'll feel compassion for my parents—and then resume your busy life.  Does that make you unfeeling?  Not at all, because, try as you might, compassion can’t fathom the pain that Jennie and Jack had endured as hours dragged into days with little sleep.  Then, if endless days blurred into heartsick weeks and months, causing you to experience your own confounding, all-consuming sense of loss in the aftermath of irretrievable loss, your sense of compassion would most likely arouse an empathetic reaction akin to mine.  Thus, the depth of what each one feels is determined by degrees of separation from the experience, itself.

In order for the intricacies of the brain to function in a well balanced state, agony, too long endured, may depress and then repress.  When that's the case, the source of depression must be identified and exorcized or the confounding nature of unresolved pain, along with fearsome misperceptions, will continue to fester subconsciously as the future unfolds.

Once we absorb the fact that déjà vu arouses repressed anxiety, we come to understand how unidentified fear darkens a person's sense of clarity, currently.  You see, just as—what goes up must come down—common sense suggests that what goes in must come out somewhere down the road …

As this train of thought, concerning repressed anxiety and déjà vu,  offers us more than enough to chew on for today, I'll bid you adieu till tomorrow.

PS

BTW—At those times when déjà vu arouses latent feelings of anxiety, your body 'remembers' the depth of what you'd felt long ago.  It's important to note that déjà vu arouses feelings of pleasure, as well.  For example:  While writing déjà vu followed by adieu, I found myself smiling as memorable feelings of having fun with high school French in Paris were naturally aroused :)

1041 TWINKLE TWINKLE—REVISITED 35

There's no major conflict
In your forseeable future except, perhaps, between
Warring factions of your belief system …
Personally, here's what catalyzes inner conflict for me:
How best to balance my existential needs while taking good care of my loved ones …

It seems as though I've always needed to know
What makes love relationships go tick tock like clock work
I mean, why else would intuition have led me
To make the study of family communications my life's work?
For instance:
What makes some of my relationships function traditionally
Like a grandfather clock
While others go coo-coo?
What makes some of my relationships
Feel light and breezy—easy
While others grow ever more darkly intense?
Why did TWINKLE TWINKLE LITTLE STAR part 1
Suggest that I'd felt compelled to 'interview' my mom
When our relationship had been so loving and close that
We'd enjoyed open channels of conversation, flowing
Naturally, back and forth with the fluency of clarity?
And if I'd married my best friend
Then what caused our love to come undone?

Why is it that fate arranges for two good souls to
Engage in an intuitive connection that
Inspires both comfort zones to expand while
The comfort zones of others
Remain firmly rooted in the ways of the past?

Though personal growth leads to change for the better
It's also true that change arouses fear of the unknown
And if you ask why
Anxiety causes relaxed relationships to grow darkly intense
I'd reply:  Certain topics, which we're 'taught' are taboo
Are in need of being discussed, openly, so that
Clarity does not diminish at those times when
Emotional confusion causes anxiety to heighten

Having studied communications for most of my adult life
I've gained a sense of openness, concerning
Speaking freely of subjects that
Cause others to blush, clam up or back off

As we come to understand that it's common for
One person's growth spurt to unnerve others
Common sense suggests the need for
Two well-organized minds to engage in
A discussion that deepens our understanding concerning
The true meaning of roots and wings

If it's natural for one person's growth spurt
To cause a deeply valued relationship to intensify
That fact leads me to ask:
Must bonds of good natured, mutual support come undone?
I mean, what if common sense suggests that
'Something', which had once played out harmonically
Begins to feel discordant ... Is the instrument trashed?
At times when anxiety floods two minds, at once
Creating discordancy of that which had felt harmonic to both
Doesn't that indicate some part of the instrument
Is in need of fine tuning?
And isn't it likely that whatever is in need of fine tuning
May be identified by exploring reasons that
Cause anxiety to emerge from within
The subconscious pockets of one or both brains?
I mean—really—can you imagine
Any complex instrument that never needs retuning?
In fact, whether we imagine our brains
As being—two mix masters, stuck on high
Or a duet of pianos in need of a tune up
Or a pair of gerbils, running in cages on wheels
Or two lucky ducks, longing for dark clouds to pass as
Both hope to enjoy sunny days in the park—
Doesn't it make sense to put two smart hearts together
And take time out to ponder on Walden Pond, concerning
That which has actually changed in hopes that
Both minds may relax once this fact is absorbed as true:
Somewhere along the line
Clogs and glitches in your thought processor and mine
May cause both minds to
Switch to a fear based track at the very same time, thus
Causing soul-mates to spiral off in separate directions, which prove
Totally out of context with what both spirits need to thrive

Seriously—what if each growth spurt is meant to catalyze
A mind-boggling conundrum in need of
Time spent in deep thought before resolution is ours
For example ...
What if one person's growth spurt serves as a signal to another to
Reconsider a mind set in need of expansion?
Let's say you agree that my recent trains of thought
Make as much sense to you as they do to me—if
That proves true then may I humbly suggest
That we look inside to see
When each of us may have absorbed and stored
An experience, during childhood, that proves in need of
Re-examination in a safe place with a trusted friend as to ensure
That ghosts from the past, which we've each lugged forward
Do not scare two smart hearts half out of our wits—ever again

Perhaps, while exploring contradictions that boggle our minds
Thus stimulating a heightened sense of anxiety, which in turn
Causes existential needs to repress
We'll each develop a new found sense of
Mindfulness necessary to embrace an expanded sense of
Soulful connectedness which our spirits need to thrive

And if, at this point in my dissertation, you think to ask:
Annie, what makes so many heartfelt relationships go haywire?
You must know, by now, that
I'd reply—with utter conviction:
SUBCONSCIOUS FEARS, WHICH REMAIN UNIDENTIFIED

Then, if you go on to ask:  Why does unidentified anxiety
Cause the strength of certain heartfelt connections to implode
I'd reply:
Unidentified anxiety flips logic on its ear
Once fear outweighs logic
Our defense systems slide the scales in such a way
As to make us believe that the vulnerabilities of others
Seem more weighty than our own

In truth, it takes strength in self awareness to
Accept accountability for trains of thought that flip us out
And since this mindful train of thought has
Come to the end of the line for today
And since it's friends and family time
And since living with Grandma taught me to value a great sale ...
And since my 25% coupons are hot to trot
It's off to Macy's I go!

1040 TWINKLE TWINKLE—REVISITED 34 Unmask the Lone Ranger

Though latent fear (subconsciously repressed) wears a mask
The mask will slip from time to time
And when a person is so fortunate
As to feel unmasked—at long last
Guess what we shall see?
We shall see inner strengths offering
The unmasked person countless opportunities
To embrace another strength—namely, the ability
To consciously replace anxiety with a growing sense of humility
And once humility is so fully embraced as to
Invite Socrates to swoop down from on high to
Guide you toward embarking upon
Your own adventure into self discovery
Guess what will slip-slide over thin ice, less often?
Inner conflict
(Remember that horoscope I posted a while back about inner conflict?
Well, I saved it to remind me of this fact:  There's no major conflict
In your foreseeable future except, perhaps, between
Warring factions of your belief system)
And so, Kemosabe
Let's hope that the next time your mask slips off, exposing
The depths of your desire to free your mind of inner conflict, concerning
how best to satisfy a soulful unmet need, you, too, will
Come to understand that intuition persists in directing your mind to
Wrestle with the same inner conflict, repeatedly, in hopes that
Your strong sense of focus will work to slough off
One layer of self protection after another until
You come to see that being true to yourself depends less upon
Capturing bad guys and more upon identifying yesteryear's unresolved fears
And with thoughts of employing positive focus to catalyze change for the better
Let's mount our might steeds
And make good use of our voices to
Spread word of self discovery around the world ...
With a high spirited—
High Yo, Silver—away!
(Imagine me smiling at my corniness reviving—naturally!)

PS. My nephew is a hero
He knows the inside of computers as I've come to know my mind
So I asked for help, and once his expertise came to my aid
My blog, working as a whole, began to speak to me in English—
Suggesting that as soon as something I'd valued but taken for granted, disappeared
Retrieving it gave me more pleasure than I can believe! :)

1039 TWINKLE TWINKLE—REVISITED 33 Imagining the back porch

15B

... As a gathering of dark clouds rolls over the sun, it’s time for Grandma to push open that screen door and stride toward the buggy where Janet has been napping on our back porch.

Please hover as close as a shadow to Grandma as she pushes open the screened door, steps out onto our private back porch and bends over the navy blue buggy to rouse the ‘sleeping’ infant, so you can feel the alarming shrillness of panic striking your mind and coursing through your body as she shouts—"Jennie!”—out loud.
As Ella's panic slices through this peaceful day, imagine Jack's whistle dying midstream; imagine canned goods falling out of Jennie's hands, as my parents fly like arrows toward Grandma’s shrieks.  Imagine a round eyed, dark haired, suddenly frightened, small caboose pulling up the rear.

As Jennie and Jack crash through the screen door, their eyes dart from Ella’s petrified expression to their baby’s sleeping form. Janet’s lifeless body lays heavy in the buggy—just as she’d been laid to rest, several hours ago—on her tummy, face to one side, long lashes sweeping down toward one cherubic cheek.

Imagine my startled, blond, blue eyed, solidly built, young father standing next to my terrified, young mother, as they and Grandma huddle round the buggy, peering frantically down at their child, who’d been bright eyed and vibrantly alive three, short hours ago—

         Imagine expressions of horror imprinting deeply into Jennie’s, Jack’s, and Ella’s faces as my mother lifts the small, limp baby out of that buggy, and Janet’s pale chin falls solidly against her little chest—

         Imagine my mother cradling her child, attempting mouth to mouth resuscitation, while my father spins around—flings open the screen door and holds it for my mother, so the panic-stricken pair can dash through the dining room and down the hall—with my terror-stricken grandma in close pursuit.

         Imagine a frightened, little girl, two weeks shy of three, eyes like saucers, staring up at her terror-struck grandma, father and mother, who’d grabbed a powder pink blanket out of the buggy to keep her precious baby safe from the cold.

         Imagine three adults tearing through that apartment—while—pulling up the rear is—the little caboose.

         Imagine my mother crying out, “Jack! Jack!  She’s alive!  She’s alive!”  Because the baby’s chest is rising and falling in cadence with the breath that my mother will continue to blow into her daughter’s tiny, rosebud mouth—all the way to the hospital.

         Imagine my father grabbing up the car keys on the octagon table—yanking open our apartment’s front door, so he and Mom, holding their precious bundle, can rush into the hall and down those same three flights of stairs without a thought to grabbing their coats—

        Imagine a pair of pounding hearts running toward their car—leaping in—speeding toward the hospital as fast as the wind—

Inhale.  Exhale.  Inhale.  Exhale.  Breathe Janet.  Breathe

Oh God—please breathe, Janet, breathe!

Imagine my super-hero dad parking the car—

Turning off the ignition—

Flinging open his door—

Jumping out of the driver’s side—

Racing around the car to help his wife—

Imagine Jennie and Jack running into the emergency room—
Imagine yells of 'Help! Help!' clutching every mind within earshot

Imagine a nurse taking Janet from Jennie’s protective arms—

Imagine Jack sitting down.  Filling out paper work—

(Filling Out Paper Work????)

Imagine Jennie and Jack pacing—waiting—praying—

Pleading with G-d—Waiting—Praying—

Pleading—Waiting—Until finally—

They stand, as ashen as marble statues, watching a white-coated doctor walk toward them—and hearts pounding—they keep hoping—

Until their last shred of hope snaps in half—

Imagine my parents absorbing the opaque expression on the doctor’s face

Do words make sense when a stranger explains that he can’t explain why their baby is irretrievably—gone?

How does the mind make sense of words that make no sense at all—

Imagine the impossibility of any semblance of thought shaping up as hope dies as surely as did their child, who did not awaken from her nap … 
Why didn't a healthy child awaken from her nap??

Imagine blood pulsing against pain so confounding, so crushing
As to cause two hearts to constrict within my parents' chests—
Imagine tightly labored breathing—
Imagine the impossibility of walking out of that hospital—

The impossibility of driving home—

The impossibility of leaving their beloved daughter behind—

With strangers in a morgue—

Imagine an autopsy ordered to determine the mysterious cause of death—

Imagine a mother and father standing and staring at—what?

At each other after a doctor, expressing condolences, walks back into his life?

Do they hold each other tight?  Do they sob?

Or has emotion, mercifully, frozen in denial where they stand, both minds utterly unable to fathom what just happened to their well ordered lives?

My mother doesn’t remember.  My father’s not living to ask.

Imagine two robots making their way out of that hospital.

Imagine all you like ...

Though we can try to imagine every emotion, we can’t imagine the depth of what Jennie and Jack felt, unless, having walked in their shoes, we experience *Déjà vu —

All you and I can feel, today, is compassion, permeating heart and mind

Try as we might, we can’t fathom the mental anguish that Jennie and Jack endure as hours drag into days and weeks and months—unless your sense of empathy or mine is aroused after experiencing the torturous emotion of our own all-consuming grief ... If Jack holds the car door open for Jennie that’s because it is his mind's well practiced habit ...

Imagine she and then he dropping heavily into their seats

As this young couple sits, side by side, how long will an instinctive (self protective) state of shock swallow their minds whole thus allowing my parents some semblance of sanity as my father's key turns in the ignition as though all on it's own?
As a robotic mind starts the engine, glances at traffic and pulls the car away from the curb, who would guess the robot's name to be Jack?

Do they cry as they ride—side by side—toward their apartment, where
A small child and her Grandma, who keeps pacing while wringing her hands, await their return—or has emotion, so overwhelming as to have been mercifully numbed, remain severely repressed until such time as tightly coiled anguish will uncompress—and drain their tear ducts dry, because it's a given that my parents feel—

Helplesshopelessconfoundeddisbelieving—whollydevastated—however, had the overwhelming nature of those feelings not repressed then—

How could Jack concentrate on the road?

How robotic can the human brain become?

What will happen when conscious awareness breaks through the temporary nature of shock’s merciful mental fog?

How will my parents fare when fear strips their minds of security, ties their colons into knots and agony grips their hearts—

And what of their minds—

What of life's mysteries that remain unsolved?  Questions unanswered?

What of—undeserved—guilt, which feels as condemning as if you'd broken a commandment when nothing could be farther from the truth?

What if undeserved guilt, mistakenly adopted, has reason to grow more deeply absorbed into the mind of a three year old child over months to come?

What might result if subconsciously repressed feelings of undeserved guilt continue to emerge for decades without comprehension into its main root?

What if, behind an ever-ready, eager to please smile, a puzzling mystery, in need of piecing together, goes undetected within the mind of a small child, who had reason to grow up to be a deep thinking woman, who gave so much of herself in hopes of satisfying the needs of those she loved that, one day, there was nothing left of her to give, at all—or so she'd felt … If that which she'd experienced at the tender age of three had happened to you, might Socrates, who'd whispered, intuitively—know thyself—into her ear, have reason to swoop down from on high in hopes of whispering thoughts of existential freedom into your ear, too?  Does an adult need to reflect back upon childhood trauma to benefit from self discovery?  Having studied up on EMDR, I think not.

What if, by way of stumbling upon this path of self discovery, a woman, whose curious mind hopes to reassemble the pieces of her thousand piece puzzle, begins to see a bigger picture coming together, concerning the main reason why a good, little girl developed a negatively focused attitude of self depreciation, which had unsettled her sense of inner peace, unnecessarily, for decades  

What if upon working at sloughing each layer of self protection, another door, leading into her soul, opens, and the more soulful she becomes, the more she'll feel free to embrace insight into how best to satisfy her God-given (intuitive) needs in such creative ways as to relieve inner conflict, naturally, as she grows true to herself, through and through … 

What if, thankfully, every piece of this puzzle does not need to come together before this woman recognizes the good person she proves to be at her core …  What if, while satisfying existential needs, creatively, she feels guilty no more?  Is that not change for the better?

Imagine me, sitting at my comuter, today, editing a scene in a story, which had been written years before I'd ever thought of posting a blog.

Imagine my mother at the age of ninety, relating all of this to me while she and I sway, side by side, on my patio swing—imagine my mom, in 2004, expressing all of these details in her own words—all except for the nature of my terrified reactions—because Mom's mind had been understandably wholly engaged in expressing emotional reactions all her own …

Imagine me kissing and hugging Mom at my front door when she felt ready to go home.  And yes, she was still driving at ninety …

Imagine my head swimming at all I'd just absorbed, sitting down at my computer in 2004, pounding that which I'd listened to Mom relate into my keyboard—much of which I'd not known before we sat, swaying, side by side, on my swing.

Imagine the fact that the scene you've just read is just the beginning of that which my mother shared, concerning what took place in the aftermath of my baby sister's death.

Imagine that which will appear on your screen when I've mustered the courage to edit each scene that lies directly ahead …

Imagine me sitting at my computer, last week, heart constricting, breathing labored, as 'listen to your body' suggests I am not ready to revive the depth of my emotional reactions—at least not yet.

Imagine me gaining insight (clarity) into why I'd had to work so hard at mustering the courage to edit the original version of this story, suggesting that my wall of denial had shed so many layers of self protective insulation that pain, which had been repressed to the point of numbness, was beginning to merge with my sense of conscious awareness.  In short, upon writing, ten years ago, I'd concentrated on the raw state of my parents' pain, whereas last week, I'd begun to rouse my own.  I guess you might say that rousing compassion for my parents had not frightened me; however rousing empathy for the frightened child I'd been catalyzed a spike of anxiety.

Imagine me working over these past ten years to slough layer after layer of my self-protective wall away in hopes of opening door after door until both sides of my mind, working as a whole, readied my inner strengths to exorcise a child's subconscious fear, which upon reprocessing through my adult mind, will be disempowered to plague my self esteem with undeserved guilt, from now on.

Imagine my mind readying itself to freely examine examples of self imposed guilt
Imagine my sense of inner peace having sound reason to rejoice, at last …
Imagine my heart singing while freeing a small child to feel good about herself
Imagine my spirit soaring as high as the sky at freeing repressed emotion, at last?
Imagine my soul free of fear to explore my new found capacity to offer and receive love even more naturally, expansively and generously than ever before :)

Imagine me sitting next to you, smiling while expressing this thought:
I do no not grapple with inner conflict to reduce my pain of loss
My pain of heartfelt loss proves too real for my mind to deny
I grapple with inner conflict until insight into my soul is revealed
And with insight into the good soul that I prove to be
I grow ever more consciously aware of how hard I am on myself, unnecessarily
And thus, with time spent in quiet reflection, reconsidering a life well lived
My capacity to be true to myself at my core continues to deepen immeasurably

You see, each time I strip away another layer of undeserved guilt (baggage)
Which has weighed heavy on my sense of existential freedom
I come to value the person I strive to be, more and more …

Imagine me sitting on a bench in the park
Imagine me seeking truth in your eyes as
I respectfully request permission to enter your inner sanctum in hopes of
Quietly posing this question:
Can you recollect the scariest day you experienced as a child?
Can you name the god-like super hero whom
You are subconsciously still hoping not to displease?
You get it, right?

1038 TWINKLE TWINKLE—REVISITED 32

(Holy cow!  As yesterday's stream of consciousness poured out of my mind in wording that proved half baked, that train of thought may have been more confusing than not.  If I found that post in need of clarity, I'm sure you did, too, so quite a bit of editing has been done :)

15 A

As choice and destiny determine our fate, deeper truth suggests life is a gamble, at best.  Knowing that as true, I'm faced this choice while narrating my story:  I can briefly sketch in up coming scenes, so you'll conceive of Janet’s death as having been exceptionally sad—or—I can flesh in the mind shattering nature of my experience, thereby asking you to witness the lasting effects of panic, shock and devastation, thundering through a three year old child, as best as words can describe.

By fleshing in these next scenes, you'll see why the circumstances surrounding my baby sister’s death catalyzed a series of frightful changes that will confound my family as a whole, resulting in fear-based mind sets in need of change for the better, all around.  Though I have sound reason to feel conflicted about reviving the most painful aspects of déjà vu, which had scared me out of my wits at this highly vulnerable stage of life when my mind could not possibly understand the meaning of death—oh wait—on second thought—what do I understand of death, right now—other than this fact:  Once a loved one has passed, he or she is never seen, again.  And having experienced the anguish of irretrievable loss more than once, I've learned to honor every person I love each time opportunity offers me another chance to rejoice in their presence, rather than, one day, reflecting back with regret as I've known so many to do.

On the other hand, there are times in every love relationship when inner conflict erupts, resulting in more pain than pleasure.  When that's the case, a mystery arises, and solving mysteries requires an inquiring mind.  So we're back to confusion arousing inner conflict, begging curiosity to tap into intuitive thought until a deeper sense of understanding results in the emergence of insight driven problem solving, highlighting a solution, which could not be seen when trains of thought had been dark, all around.

As my adult mind has grown from a little caboose—following another's train of thought—toward developing into an engine, empowered to pull my own trains of thought from one insightful station to the next, I welcome those times when intuition, seeking insight into self awareness, pulls me into a station where I can work quietly at identifying, unloading and re-examining layers of fear-based emotion—otherwise known as baggage—which Mother Nature had deemed fit to store within pockets of my subconscious until such time as I muster the courage to check myself out—straight into my core.  As self discovery proves to be a soulful activity, we can surmise that Lady Luck did not abandon this terrified duckling, after all.  I mean, seriously, which would you choose:  An addiction to alcohol, drugs, denial or an addiction to hope, suggesting change for the better will be yours with every intuitive step forward you take?  Seems like a no brainer, right?

With that said, here's what intuition suggests, right now:  My most recent trains of thought have been readying my mind to muster the courage to balance logic with emotion so that—hopefully—the door in my self protective wall will swing open, offering me an opportunity to pull my story into the next station, where I'll unload another layer of subconscious baggage by reprocessing a self depreciating mind set, which had etched itself too deeply into my memory on the most terrifying day that I'd experienced as a child.

If you ask where tomorrow's post will take us—my guess is that readiness to review the next scene in my story will be mine, suggesting we'll witness my grandma striding out of the kitchen toward our third floor back porch ...

PS—BTW, the instructional portion of my blog is still in Filipino …

1037 TWINKLE TWINKLE—REVISITED 31

Today, while rereading yesterday's post
Insight into inner conflict grabbed hold of my mind
I'll do my best to recreate exactly how that happened
First of all, imagine me rereading the beginning of yesterday's post:

Generally, life and mystery go hand in hand
Let's take this mystery for example:
As my posts are read around the world
I often wonder what my thoughts look like
In a language other than English
Today, while engaged in the process of writing
I spied an icon for 'language' on my screen
Hmmm—I thought—I never noticed that icon before
As curiosity tapped the icon, many language choices appeared
Randomly, I tapped Filipino and waited to see what would happen
What happened, next, left me feeling surprised and confused
(Okay—here comes the insight …)

For some reason, I looked more closely
At the word 'confused' and realized that—like love and anxietyr—
Confusion is a feeling that emerges intuitively, on its own
That insight led me to muse over this fact:
While some of what we feel emerges instinctively
Other feelings are aroused from that which we learn, suggesting
'Brain training' proved necessary
For instance, self restraint is a feeling that's aroused once
The think tank has been trained to make decisions based in
Social rules of conduct, which must be consciously learned as in:
Don't be a cry baby.  Turn off those (natural) tears!
In this way, our brains are trained to feel bad
When that which we feel for real is deemed socially unacceptable

Rules of conduct create socially conditioned reactions, which
Once acquired, feel as natural as emotions, which had been innatelyhard wired, and thus does deeper truth suggest that
Social grooming precedes emotions, which feel self- depreciating.

When natural feelings, are suppressed, over long
That which we are not allowed to feel filters from
The conscious portion of the mind into the subconscious, where
Repressed emotion, which has grown numb, is stored; however
Numb does not mean gone,
Like—when your leg falls asleep, it doesn't fall off, right?
Like—when you awaken from surgery, and the anesthetic wears off
You can't deny the truth of your physical pain—so you request a drug—
Well Mother Nature has a drug for emotional pain known as Denial
You get it, right?

Any emotion that triggers too much distress will numb up, over time
Reality suggests that emotion, stored within the subconscious
Exists in a numbed state of being, which can't be felt, and so
if you ask:  How is distressed emotion imprisoned until it is freed?
I'd reply:  Numbed emotion is imprisoned in a dreamstate within
Your subconscious and mine, suggesting that
Natural emotion, too long repressed
Is tightly packed into 'baggage' that
Accompanies us wherever we go, which is why I
Liken repressed emotion to a little song bird, whose
Voice longs to fly free of the cage, which proves
Too confining for its spirit to soar, joyfully, suggesting that
Repressed emotion clips the human spirit's natural wingspan

I often consider my therapist my teacher in that
During our time, together, I absorb so much valuable information
For example:
People choose one of three ways to reduce emotional distress:
Alcohol, medication, and Mother Nature's drug, more commonly
Called:  Denial
As I had reason to become addicted to denial during childhood
You'll watch me go through

Painful bouts of withdrawal each time
I work to shed another layer of my self protective wall

Each time you watch me cleanse a layer of denial from my mind
Emotion, long repressed, is re-awakened, freed and felt every bit as
Consciously as when my distress had originally
Proved too deep and raw to withstand in lieu of numbing relief

If you wonder how insights expressed above will lead
Today's train of thought toward the reason why I believe
Repressed emotion catalyzes inner conflict, we are about to
Delve into the fact that the human brain is made up of two halves:
The intuitive half, where innate emotion naturally resides
And the think tank, where rules of conduct are acquired and stored

During times of inner conflict intuitive emotion
(That which emerges naturally) duels with acquired emotion
Otherwise known as widely accepted, learned behaviors, which
Run interference with meeting our personal (existential) needs

As you can see
Inner conflict results when one half of your brain duels with the other
Causing feelings of distress to weigh heavy on your spirit until
A sense of balance between two equal forces
Has been achieved, suggesting that the human brain is in need of
Developing training techniques that result in consciously teaching
impassioned emotion to hold hands with a self discipled sense of logic
In this way, passion, while being actively restrained
Can be consciously felt and logically expressed rather than
Subconsciously numbed for as long as it remains repressed
-Once this self disciplined sense of logic processes freely through your mind
Both sides of your brain function well as a whole
On the other hand, inner conflict results when
Intuition, wrestling with social decorum
Creates a conundrum of confusion that remains unresolved

As we come to recognize the necessity of training our brains to
Express (rather than repress) innate needs in
A healthy, self disciplined manner, that's when
We prove soulfully true to ourselves at our core
And if anyone feels the need to argue with reasoning that
Proves as intuitively and logically as sound as
Today's train of thought seems to me, then
I'd love nothing more than to open my mind and
Listen to that which you may feel the need to say
And with that said
I hope you can feel me wishing you a five star day :)

PS
If you ask where trains of thought, such as these come from
I'd reply:  I've asked myself that same question, so many times that
Eventually, intuition suggested that
I seriously consider this probability:
While raising my sons, my think tank chose to do
A ton of reading, concerning emotion and behavior, and
That which I learned made such good sense that
I made the conscious choice to balance
Logic with creativity whenever problem solving proved necessary
And by and by, much to my spirit's sense of joy
Solution seeking success was mine (and theirs), repeatedly
With time, creative trains of logical thought began to tap into
My powers of intuition, spontaneously, unwittingly

As you may recall, intuitive (instinctive) trains of thought do not
Deny the existence of emotion aching for freedom of expression
And as that insight proves true at all ages for each and every soul
Eventually, I came to realize that my powers of intuition
Had become so well practiced as to see inner conflict as offering me Opportunities to re-examine mindsets, concerning
Rules of conduct in need of review

 If you ask which emotion calls forth intuitive thought
I'd reply:  Feelings of confusion
If you ask why that's true, I'd say:
Confusion sparks my instinctive need for clarity
My need for clarity inspires me to
Soak my head in Walden Pond, where
I swim around until
Insight into self trust is mine, time after time :)

1036 TWINKLE TWINKLE—REVISITED 30

Generally, life and mystery go hand in hand
Let's take this mystery for example:
As my posts are read around the world
I often wonder what my thoughts look like
In a language other than English
Today, while my mind was engaged in the process of writing
My eye spied an icon for 'language' on my screen
Hmmm—I thought—I never noticed that icon before
As soon as curiosity tapped that icon many language choices appeared
Randomly, I tapped Filipino and waited to see what would happen
What happened, next, left me feeling surprised and confused
Though my posts remained in English
The instructive portion of my blog showed up in Filipino
Why both, I asked?
As no one answered, you might say:
Well, just tap the icon and accept that some mysteries remain unsolved
And that's what I would have done, except for this—
That icon disappeared—I kid you not!
Have you seen it?
Neither have I!
Though life offers up mysterious goings on—
Some mysteries loom so large as to make us cry with inconsolable loss
Those mysteries make us search inside more deeply than ever before
Some mysteries make us laugh—and
Thank goodness, today's little mystery is making me laugh as I write :)

BTW, here's my horoscope:
Oddly enough you don't have to know the way to get there.  You manage, you intuit, you ask for signs until you find yourself in the place you wanted to be—

I kid you not—that was my horoscope, word for word
Makes me wonder where insight into unprocessed fear may take me
Concerning what I'll feel free to write when the sun comes up, tomorrow …