1180 MY BRAIN'S HEALING DREAM part 3

Upon peering into that endless corridor, here's what passes right before my wide-eyed astonishment … the entire circus parade!  Lions and tigers, hungry and uncaged!  A lion tamer, who prefers whisper to whip.  Elephants, all in a row from huge to small with lovely ladies in spandex and tights, hitching rides on grey, wrinkly trunks.  Bareback riders in jewel-toned sequins on high stepping horses as white as snow with tails swishing as gaily as plumes.  Doggies in pointed hats, summersaulting all around brightly painted clowns, hamming it up while piling into tiny, backfiring cars, followed by jugglers and a pyramid of tumblers, and if you look up, high above life's charade ... I mean, parade, which proves out of control in the same way as had been true eons before I was ever a twinkle in my parents' eyes, you'll see a high wire act along with swings catching acrobats, who fly back and forth through the air with the greatest of ease without so much as a net to save those, who, wearing too many hats for their own good, are bound to tire, lose their balance and fall, and when Bartholomew Cuggins falls flat on his face after his towering hats tilt and cover his eyes, who's to carry the blame when a bout of sciatica grows so painful under the strain of carrying out every responsibility that this positively focused soul has freely chosen to shoulder?  I mean, really, who proves at fault when Moogins, I mean Cuggins, can no longer keep pace with life's out-of-control state, and BTW, that last insight proves true when Moogins feels shocked to see how readily a person's finest character traits are trampled underfoot while the circus band, plays so loudly that every desperate plea for help goes unheard until cymbals stop crashing discordantly ... Oy vey!

In truth, can anyone expect anything other than chaos to result when a three ring circus, as classic as this, swirls beyond the ring leader's personal control?  Are you getting my drift, concerning my need to pick up my shocked -to-the-max eyeballs off the floor, pop them back into my sockets and make an appointment to have my cataracts checked ASAP, so I can begin to fathom how blind I'd been to personal patterns, which had shaped up over so many years as to have caused my high flying spirit to exhaust, thrice!

Oh!—so, guess what hits me right before I shut the door on life as it had played out before my plethora of hats crashed head-on into a year-long siege of physically painful, full-blown mental exhaustion?  It's a bookmobile, a traveling library if you will, splitting at its seams, straining beyond common sense to push that circus parade up hill toward change for the better, inch by inch, for as long as my addiction to hope continues to blind me to narow patterns of thought in need of expansion, all around, because, no matter how positively focused that library proves to be to this very day, its vast storehouse of knowledge can serve no purpose other than to spin my wheels unless others choose to expand their mindsets and choose to pull their weight in hopes of redirecting this circus parade from digging its wheels into a rut so deep as to remain stuck, locking horns, in a power struggle that is sure to feel dark, bleak and fearsome to all concerned—until insight into supportive teamwork, which proves necessary to achieving lasting success, dawns on everyone involved—I mean someone had better coach that library on wheels to call for time out in time for this parade to make a u-turn—or the whole Megillah may run out of gas—not for the first time or the second or third—I mean seriously—all it takes is one glance at the clock for every player on the field to catch wind of the fact that certain players are closing in on life's fourth quarter of play!

Well anyway, after closing but not locking the door on life's out-of-control parade, I make my way, very carefully, through the reconstruction room, offering my conscious mind time to absorb strings of insight, which strengthen my hold on self awareness, before returning to the gynormous warehouse, where the baby, upon awakening, startles me, because, suddenly, all my mind's eye can see, while staring into the crib is Snow White, rubbing her eyes after a lengthy sleep.  However, rather than having bitten into the witch's poison apple, Snow awakens feeling well nourished by the wisdom inherent in having shared the fruit of her labor with Eve, who instructs Snow to leave thoughts of Eden to the young, and as this makes sense to our newly re-energized damsel in distress, Snow, following Eve's lead, chooses to pass fruit from the tree of knowledge to each next generation by way of sending insights, concerning the effects of positive focus, self discovery, personal growth and change for the better, into cyberspace, every day.

As my dreamscape swirls on, I grow attentive to the baby crying, so feeling brightened by insight into wisdom gained while watching the family circus climbing uphill, beyond my control, I glance around this darkened take-stock-of-yourself room, and while working single mindedly to identify personal patterns in need of further reconstruction, my newly revived spirit lights up every dark corner (except for one ...).  And now that this dreamscape has brightened, considerably, I'm about to lift the baby out of the port-a-crib when guess what meets my newly sighted eye?  My nephew, Michael!

Holy cow!  You'll never guess what Michael is doing!

Mike is changing the diaper on his brand new baby boy (due in March, 2015) proving dreams to be as magical as time machines, zooming back and forth at such a dizzying speed as to cause whiplash to our brains, no matter how practiced we prove to be at collecting insights in a jar until epiphany illuminates bigger pictures, which had been missed when my blindness had offered the quick stepping parade clearance to hit and run right over my self esteem... I mean, in defense of everyone, how could I fault the maddening crowd for proving to be every bit as blind as me!

So anyway, while watching Michael, who is famously fastidious, changing a diaper, which proves less than fragrant, I smile to think at how surreal real life proves to be!  And as Mike's eyes meet mine,  we burst into laughter, and my heart lifts with joy, which is good, because sensations of joy had proved scarce during this frightening year of Will's cancer followed by Mom's irreplaceable loss.

Having enjoyed this laugh with my nephew, who's looking green around the gills, I spin around, and you'll never guess at the shocking sight that turns my eyes into slinkies, again!

The baby, who'd been as small and vulnerable as a hummingbird, whose broken-wing had proved mine to mend and protect from further harm, has grown by leaps and bounds to the point that this child is stuffed so tightly into the crib that the spindles are cracking apart, and thank goodness, my personal strengths have been reconstructed in the nick of time to catch the baby as she tumbles right out of that crib before her noggin bounces painfully on the floor!  I mean seriously, once her growth spurt takes this final leap of faith, no crib, no matter how sturdily built, can contain the size of her spirit now that the lost portion of her identity feels no fear to stand up to any bully, who draws near enough to hear her voice roar:  I am woman—don't f--- with me!  (Uh, that would be 'fool with me' ... Right?  Right!😉

Gad zooks!
That baby is not my sister, Janet
That baby is not my sister, Lauren
That baby is not one of my sons 
That baby is not my grand daughter-to-be ...
That baby, whose broken wing had need of
My love, fully baked strengths and
Nurturing traits had been ... Me
And I'll bet my boots that comes as no surprise to you ☺️

Upon reflecting over the deeply complex meaning of this not so crazy dream, I catch myself grinning from ear to ear.  Why?  Because feeling 'full of myself' from the top of my head to the colorful stripes of my socks, which warm my toes, suggests that I may have actually exorcized that self demeaning belief, which had bullied me into dumping undeserved guilt on my head over most of my life.  I mean, hot damn, I need not meet everyone's needs to feel worthy of love!

Once the weight of the world stops preying upon my hyper vigilant mind, I go to find my dad, who, knowing his daughter well, has been wandering around the family circus, looking for me, high and low.  As soon as my father's beloved smile engages with mine, we, too, burst into laughter, right after my enthusiastic voice rings out with these words:
Dad, I just experienced epiphany #2,003!!

As Dad and I have always enjoyed engaging in philosophical debate, it's clear that he's all ears, suggesting that my words have whet his appetite for yet another lively discussion, and knowing myself capable of expressing my most personal thoughts without covering my face with my hands in hopes of regaining my ability to think clearly, I dive, head first, into the deep end of my mind, and like a well nourished kitten with nine lives—guess who lands on her feet?
Your friend (and mine)
Annie Moogins aka the caterpillar, the little engine, the ant, the hummingbird and whomsoever I grow to be as the fourth quarter of play gets underway ...

PS
As this path of self discovery, leading toward self-healing from trauma, compels me to move forward, it seems prudent to remind you that a scary secret, still hiding  in the dark side of my mind, remains in need of exposure.  On the other hand, having worked diligently to resuscitate a host of inner strengths, I believe myself capable of mustering the courage to expunge that hot spot without drowning myself in yesteryear's traumatized terror.  That's not to say that I won't encounter scary times ahead.  In fact, Will woke me, gently, when I cried out during a frightening nightmare, last night.  As to that which had colored last night's dream so darkly, well intuition suggests it's too soon to make heads or tails of the jumble of details that had need to tumble tensely out of my subconscious; however, once clarity is mine, you can count on me to fill you in ...

And now, in hopes of publishing this post on a positive note, picture me smiling as this thought brightens my noggin:

Having worked to lighten peace of mind by sweeping dark clusters of clutter out my gynormous closet, I've opened  the drapes to find the sun sparkling all over my spirit, which is welcoming me to enjoy a new sense of freedom whereby meeting my needs deems me well balanced rather than selfish, and with a hip hip hooray, I'll recite and practice that newly rebalanced train of thought upon arising to open the door to life's three ring circus, every day, come what may!

Your friend,

Annie Moogins

(Bartholomew Cuggins, balancing too many hats,  no more!)

1179 MY BRAIN HEALING DREAM part 2

So anyway, while looking for this fretful baby
I catch sight of a pair of rats scurrying across the floor but
As they have plenty of places to hide under this rack or that
I shudder but choose to pay them little mind ...
While my focus remains engaged with
My quest to find this baby, who's still
mewing like a lost little kitten.

At some point, while in search of this vulnerable child, I spy those rats, sneaking from here to there, and though eying them sharply, my fear subsides once my intelligence takes note of this fact:  In direct proportion to my self confidence strengthening, these scary rats have been shrinking in size until, left in their stead, are a pair of harmless mice, and as anyone who's seen Cinderella knows, mice are not to be feared, because as soon as the mind frees itself of fear, those little mice can prove mighty nice ... so much so as to be helpful when a stitch in time saves nine!

So here I am, searching through this darkened warehouse, filled with history and ghosts of every sort, when guess what I spy huddled into a tiny ball, next to the baby doll that I'd named after myself:  Annie Moogins.  (BTW:  Moogins was not my last name.  At less than three, my mind had mixed up the order of the letters, and thus had I mispronounced my last name to the amusement of all of the adults.  Actually, at the age of three, my mind had mixed up a lot more than the pronounciation of my name ...). As Moogins had accompanied me when, as a tyke, I was hospitalized for scratching my skin raw, she proved to be a favorite of mine, so I was surprised to find her lying on the floor.

At any rate, this baby, who has been nestling against Moogins, stirs such an empathetic reaction from deep within my core as to cause a surge of heartfelt protectiveness to emerge as though to ensure that she'll feel safe from harm, forever more.  And once I describe this frightened little thing, you'll see why she proves to be no ordinary child ...

Much to my astonishment, this feather weight proves no larger than a hummingbird with a broken wing, suggesting the necessity of holding her vulnerability tenderly rather than tightly in my hand.  Upon lifting this wounded babe off the floor, I spy the cream colored port-a-crib that Will and I had chosen for Steven, because he'd been born when Barry was less than two and still in need of his crib.

As the port-a-crib looks freshly made up, I feed the unmet needs of this restless child, check her tiny diaper and when her bright blue eyes meet mine and her face lights up with a megawatt smile, I feel as though my tenderness has won more than her heart in that intuition has offered us reason to share in an unshakable bond of trust.  Then, while snugglng this vulnerable being safely in my arms, I sit in the rocker and cradle my precious find close to my heart until sleepiness closes her eyes, so carrying her to the crib, I settle her down for a much needed nap.

Next thing I know, my peace of mind feels startled by a clattering of hoof beats coming from the reconstruction room, or so I surmise ... so with that assumption in mind, I tiptoe around the clothing racks in hopes of not awakening the baby, who, feeling securely loved and well cared for, has fallen into such a deep sleep as to breathe more peaceably than ever before.  Upon reaching the wall that separates the warehouse (where stuff I've stuffed is stored) from the room where reconstruction goes on, I crack open the door, fearing that some kind of wild stampede may flatten me, but much to my relief, naught is amiss.  In fact, upon taking a closer look, I get the feeling that some kind of surrealistic reassembly, which, seems so complex as to prove far beyond my comprehension, is taking place.

Though I feel anxious while trains of thought are undergoing reassembly, here is why my curiosity peaks:  That clattering of hoofbeats, arousing my anxiety, has become even louder than before, so though I feel fearful, my spirit musters the courage to walk-the-walk around the tables, upon which I can see quivering coils of grey matter, processing through various stages of change for the better, and while heeding intuition's suggestion that silence is golden while this work that's undergoing chrysalis is achieving completion, I tiptoe around each area of reconstruction until my hand reaches gingerly for the knob that opens the door which offers me a view of that which is causing such a claptrap of noise, marching down that long, endless corridor, and—let me tell you that upon catching sight of what I see—my eyes turn into a pair of Slinkies, which bug so far out of my sockets as to bounce across the floor …

At that point guess who flies into view?  The spirit of Socrates, swooping down just long enough to whisper words of wisdom into my welcoming ear:  Annie— if you don't somehow retrieve clarity of sight, your blindness to self demeaning beliefs, will be responsible for trampling your best character traits beyond recognition for the rest of your life!!

Heavens to Betsy!  I can't let that happen!  So thanking (rather than killing) the messenger, I take note of the fact that clarity must be mine!

Thank goodness, I make a practice of listening astutely each time intuition guides me to heed the wisdom of the sage, who invariably encourages my intelligence to choose the path of self discovery whenever I spy a fork in the road.  Then, upon choosing the road less taken, I gain insight into self awareness, which illuminates personal patterns to which I'd been blind.  Needless to say, layers of denial can't slough so that bigger pictures can emerge while life is stampeding all around me.

In hopes of sloughing each next layer of denial, my spirit must muster the courage to retreat to a safe haven, where my mind feels relaxed, at least enough to expand my innate ability to think deep—and that's why my choice to retreat must not be confused with turning into a scared bunny rabbit, shaking with fear, seeking to hop into a hole as soon as anything arouses the instinct of danger drawing near.

So anyway, rather than jumping blindly into the middle of that mysterious fray, thumping noisily down that endless corridor, I heed the sage and kneel down in hopes of retrieving my eyeballs, and thank goodness, I get lucky while my hands search across the floor, because once my peepers stop rolling around like marbles, I scoop them up, plug them in, and get a wide-eyed view of personal patterns, which my newly sighted self awareness had never seen with such attention to detail, before!

And now, if mysterious noisiness, thundering through the corridor, arouses similar sensations of curiosity within your mind as is true of mine, well ... please tune in when part 3 of my dreamscape describes the flabbergasting scene, which is sure to march across our screens when the sun comes out, tomorrow,
Your friend,
Annie

1178 MY BRAIN HEALING DREAM part 1

2014
I am a young woman, living with my mom, dad and sister, Lauren
We are getting ready to move into a new apartment, which
Is located in the basement of Circus Circus in Las Vegas (???)

(Life is a circus
Will and I plan to fly to Vegas for an ortho meeting, later this week
And though, at first, the basement proved perplexing
I came to remember how often thoughts of a basement
Continue to stir sensations of unidentified fear from
Somewhere deep within my mind)

Though the rooms in this apartment are spacious
No closets are to be found, so
I seek out my dad and ask:
Where are we supposed to store our stuff?
Dad leads me through the bedroom, which
I'm to share with Lauren ( as had been true when we were young)
And while walking from one end of our bedroom to
The other, I notice how perfectly everything has been arranged
Except for the fact that I can't figure out how to find
All the stuff that I've stuffed, over most of my life

As we approach the back wall of the bedroom
I'm relieved to see a narrow door, which had
Somehow escaped my awareness
As Dad opens the door, I, expecting to
See the interior of a closet
Find myself staring out at a very wide and
Exceptionally long corridor; in fact
This corridor is so long that I can't see its
Beginning or end ...
I guess you could say that
This corridor (like the historical time line)
Seems to go on and on, pretty much forever

Anyway ... I, feeling deeply perplexed
Turn to my father, who hears me ask:
So ... Where's the closet?
(You know which closet ... the one that holds
Everything we need to remember, which
Primal fear shoves behind layers of denial

Without uttering so much as a sound, which
Proves unlike my father's loquacious nature
Dad points to a door across the corridor, so
I walk over to it, turn the knob, and find myself
Stepping into a brightly lit, narrow
Rectangular room, filled with
Rows of large conference tables, each of which is
Piled high with building materials and a wide assortment of
Miniature sized construction tools, such as:
Jack hammers, cement mixers, electric saws, layers of plywood
Plaster and bricks for assembling solid walls, pliers for pulling out
Loose screws, and bolts for tightening nuts that
Might otherwise lose hold of a sense of existential independence

In other words, I'm looking at a bunch of stuff that makes
Sure we'll all fit so snugly into our proper places that
Safety is assured, while at the same time

Adjustments can be made so that

An instrument as complex as the human brain
Can develop trains of thought that free us from sticking to
Any mindset, which has proven to
Condemn the least bit of wiggle room
For fear of change, which might disturb the arrangement of
That which has been deemed proper behavior for
Men, women and children, and thus does adjustment
Provide for an expansive comfort zone, which

Allows the uniqueness inherent within
Each well organized human brain to

Gain insight into the road less taken
Rather than remaining stuck within
That endless corridor, which
Offers no door, leading to change for the better as we age
(Which makes me wonder about this contradiction:
If it's true that wisdom comes with age then
Why do so many of the aged lose their spirits?)

While wondering what we're to make of
All of these construction materials
I turn to Dad with a quizzical look, because though
I know full well how a proper woman is
Expected to function
I've noticed that certain tools seem ready to
Aid in disassembly, followed by
Lengthy periods of reconstruction

However, Dad, being a straight forward kind of guy
Simply shrugs his shoulders while gesturing to
Yet another door in a wall that leads us
Toward I know not what to expect, next
Then, much to my surprise
Upon turning that knob, the door does not budge
Until I spend quite some time questing for a key

Upon finding the key in the last place I'd thought to look
(Because I, like the woman who'd swallowed a fly
Had swallowed the key to regaining my lost identity)
The door in the wall opens, at last, and
I find 'myself' walking into the middle of
A dimly lit, windowless, gigantic room, the size of
A warehouse where countless rows of
Racks of clothing on hangers run in
Both directions as far as my eye can see, and though
Most of the clothes nearest the door in the wall
Prove to be up to date, the farther we get from
Where I stand, today
The older the clothes, hanging around, seem to be
And while standing my ground
I feel as though each rack, which is topped by
A shelf, showing an endless selection of hats
Is offering me a comprehensive view of that which we had
Covered our naked selves up as society
Groomed us to show the world only
Those traits that we'd felt proud to parade in public, while
Tucking everything that might be considered less slightly
As deep into this closet as possible before
Instructing us to lock the door on deeper truth into
Skeletons that rattle our nerves,  and
Thus do we swallow the key that might offer a hint of
Insight into the whole Megillah that comprises our true identity

Then, all of a sudden
The dimly lit warehouse goes dark, and instead of
Finding myself locked out of this storage room
I find myself locked up tight within this mausoleum
Surrounded by racks of history, and when
I cry out for help, what do I hear?
I hear the fretful cry of a baby, left to fend for herself
And suddenly, the historic walls of this timeless tomb
Begin to close in on my thirsty mind ... you know, like a vice

At this point, my head can't help but hurt
Because, somehow, I know, without a doubt, that no one
Will hear  my voice, suggesting that no one proves
Capable of  saving this mysterious baby from pain but me ...

1177 A DREAMSCAPE ILLUMINATES MY BRAIN, PROCESSING THROUGH HEALING WHILE I SLEEP

2014
Several thoughts to consider before my dream unfolds on your screen:

First of all, a few insights, which may prove of interest to your quest into self awareness, were added to yesterday's post, so, in keeping with 'two steps forward one step back', prudence points to this fact:  Thoroughness suggests that while training our brains to function optimally rather than succumbing to primal fear when danger draws near, it makes sense to back track for a moment to reflect over insights added as an afterthought, and here's why that's true:  Those sparks of insight may ignite today's string of insights, which, hopefully, will emerge as I write.  So if continuity, concerning personal growth, is our mutual goal then reflection proves wise before moving forward.

Originally, I was encouraged by countless people in my classes to write a book filled with stories, concerning raising my children with love and self disciple, guided by positive focus.

Then I was encouraged by a therapist to write a book filled with stories, concerning insights, attitudes and decisions that saved our family from dissolving into tears in the aftermath of divorce court.

Ultimately, I was encouraged to meld both book writing goals into this blog, which explores the healing nature of questing ever more deeply into one's personal history in search of insight into self awareness based in deeper truth.

Amazing, isn't it, how reflecting over the past opens our minds to options, which had once aroused fear of adventuring into territory as yet unexplored.

Today, You and I will adventure into a surrealistic dream that summarizes my lengthy quest to recapture my lost sense of clarity, which had succumbed to primal fear for two reasons:  The first reason points to a raw state of trauma, which raised its terrified little head about two years after my father's death.  The second reason points to social brainwashing, which began when I was so young as to have been filmed, riding the little red trike that I'd loved, at a time in my life when my head full of tousled dark curls proved imaginative and playful but innocent of knowledge, concerning lasting
wounds to self esteem.

Here's an insight, concerning wisdom, that just popped out of my mind:

Wisdom does not depend upon clarity as I'd previously thought

Wisdom depends upon embracing a life's path where

A daunting sense of confusion signals intuition to quest
For factual knowledge while intelligence works to
Piece together this collection of puzzle pieces until

Insight into a set of conflicting beliefs has been
Identified and reorganized by way of

Intuition coupling with intelligence to

Compile two lists:  one being a list of factual details
Separate from a list of fabrications made by
The frightened side of my mind that imagines

Negative consequences associated with thoughts of failure

Having separated details that prove factual from

Details, fabricated by fearsome fantasies of
Failure, based in negatively focused assumptions
My intelligence, coupled with factual knowledge
Grows ever more capable of spotlighting insight into
Bigger pictures which had once been missed due to

Blind confusion born of darkly fearful beliefs

In light of having gained confidence in
The true nature of my character traits

I no longer fear engaging in any debate that
Tries to smear my reputation by
Taking my actions and thoughts

Out of context in the same way that
Politics conduct mean minded smear campaigns on TV

Upon doing the necessary work to heal
The wounded portions of my self esteem
That self demeaning fear of failure, lumbering around
In my subconscious, lost its power to
'Put me down' and now that
My conscious mind knows my strength of character
My subconscious is no longer
Riddled with self doubt, based in
Unidentified fear of undeserved guilt
And if you ask how this work was achieved
I'd reply:  Recent sessions of EMDR offered me reason to reflect
Ever more deeply into my past in hopes of shedding
Additional layers of self protective denial, thus exposing
Subconscious fears of misbegotten beliefs more clearly
Than ever before, and as deeply painful, misbegotten beliefs
Filtered into my conscious mind, my intellect gained 
A sense of readiness to clarify the factual truth of
My character, once and for all ... suggesting that
All I'd needed do to be true to
My courageous nature was to retrain my think tank to

Imprint positively focused statements of fact
More deeply into my re-organized brain than
Had been possible when my soul had felt troubled by
A great deal of confusion, which had eclipsed
My intelligent hold onto clarity …

As to the crazy dream, which showcases
My mind undergoing transformative stages of chrysalis 

Well, it proved not crazy, at all, once my

Intelligence, knowledge and line of control

Slowed down the pace of life's merry-go-round at least
Enough to offer my power of intuition
Clear/ance to serve as the bridge, which
Connects my subconscious beliefs

And my conscious sense of knowledge, whereby
My brain, acting as a whole, felt capable of expressing
The holistic nature of healing, associated
With self discovery, which precedes personal growth, and
The fact that I understood the complexities
Inherent in this dreamscape attests to this fact:
The deep thinking person I prove to be, today
Has worked to develop the personal strengths
Necessary to heal the most severely wounded portions
Of my self esteem

PS
Hold the presses! says the ever observant Lois to Clark ...
Yesterday, my self-effacing attitude suggested my having made a field goal on Saturday, however, at that time,  which proved to be halftime,  I'd not yet reflected over the second half of that game of Family Win-Win.  Now that I've reflected over that which took place on Sunday,  I can offer you this bird's eye view:  As Sunday played out, both sides of my extended family managed to tie the score in positive ways, so—if you had been offered a play by play review of the weekend as a whole, I believe you'd have reason to agree that love at its purist, coupled with a growing sense of self awareness, intelligence and knowledge proves to be such a hard working team as to make it impossible for defensive, fear-based opposition to beat us from working to achieve even greater levels of success as the future unfolds! 😍

  At least, that's my hope.  And each time my well-developed sense of positively focused hope holds hands with a realistic goal, I find that with patience, sad losses have had just cause to transform into expressions of gladness, all around.

As reporting the most poignant portions of my dream with attention to detail requires deep thought on my part, I'll tackle that intuitive feat of memory a bit later in the day, because, right now, my brain is signaling its need for down time to rest up so that each of today's insights has time to imprint so deeply into my think tank as to spark a string of insights, which will reveal themselves to both of us when the zanier portions of my dream appear on our screens.  So, though truly sorry to create disappointment, I doubt that you'll see the healing nature of my dreamscape until the sun comes out, tomorrow ...

As for now, tis time to nourish mind, body and spirit with protein before soothing my sciatic pain  within swirling pulsations of heat, which are sure to provide me with temporary gains of relief until time works it's magic of reducing my discomfort to a level that will offer me the freedom to drive … So it's off to the kitchen and then into the hot tub for ... your friend (and mine)
Annie

1176 INTRO TO MY CRAZIEST DREAM—EVER!

2014
Holy smokescreens!
Just before awakening, this morning
I had a dream that felt crazy until I my brain's
Instinctive power of intuition fired off
A string of insights, which served to heighten
My sense of awareness to the point of
Interpreting each detail of the chaotic landscape that had
Filtered from my subconscious into my conscious mind

When I pen this dream, tomorrow, and
Interpret its meaning for you, you'll catch wind of
The ways in which our imaginative brains
Process through emotional chaos while we work to
Make sense of contradictive 'craziness', which
Confounds our connection to clarity until
A blend of knowledge, memory and intelligence
Fires off a string of insights into deeper truth

As insight into deeper truth emerges
Bigger pictures shape up, suggesting why
That which had seemed crazy makes perfect sense once
Insight into our deepest unmet needs is fully revealed

As strings of insight into deeper truth work to
Restructure and expand the brain's old pathways of thought
Dark clouds of confusion begin to lighten up, and
With each step taken toward clarity, concerning
Self discovery, guess what brightens?
Our conscious sense of awareness, and here's why that's true:

As dark clouds of denial lighten up
Disturbing details, concerning experiences, which had
Wounded portions of our fledgling self esteem, begin to
Emerge from behind defensive walls that layer up, over time
And along with these disturbing details, fears
Left in a raw and festering unresolved state emerge, as well

Each time another 'forgotten' detail
Struggles its way through my defensive wall and
Into my conscious mind, you watch
My brain, working as a whole, taking another
Courageous step toward healing itself from
Trauma, which, having been buried alive within
My subconscious in its unprocessed state, continues to
Shroud my conscious mind within a torment of pain, each time
Anything comes close to prodding the unexposed nature of
Raw sensitivity that continues to darken my view of
Myself much more than my thoughts, words or actions deserve

Each time 'something' prods one of my
Subconscious hot spots of darkness, the pain of one
Unhealed trauma or another feels pierced anew, suggesting
My good fortune to partake in the healing process of
EMDR, and resultant of this time-tested process, which
Enables me to engage in self-healing
Guess what has been saved in the nick of time, repeatedly?
My hold on sanity ... I mean, think about it:
The fact that we have no clue as to when today's
Fearful reactions may be stimulated by
An unprocessed experience, which proved
Deeply painful in the past is ... insane!

By now, I believe you have reason
To understand why 'Know thyself' doth not suggest
Exposing 'evil' secrets to the world but rather
The exposure of unidentified fears, which
Thy defense system denies, thus
Running interference with your peace of mimd

Hopefully, you can see that 'Know thyself' suggests
The importance of accomplishing the necessary work of
Healing wounded portions of thy self esteem from
Emotional pain, so devastating as to have caused
Mother Nature to cast a spell upon
Your conscious mind and mine
Thus numbing our memories from
'Remembering' depths of pain, which having been
Left raw and unhealed within our subconscious
Pierce through our hide at times when
Fear is aroused by something that
Does not prove to be nearly as
Dangerous as our emotional reactions suggest ...

Sooo ... if you already know yourself to be
A bonefide control freak, but you've not yet
Figured out why that's true then perhaps
You'll find an inkling of truth in this supposition:
If you deny yourself the benefits derived from
Partaking in EMDR therapy then
Your reasoning powers may prove less sane than you think …
I mean, seriously, here's your choice:
Remain a control freak with no clue as to why that's true
Or enhance your peace of mind by
Questing into self discovery as
I choose to do for this reason:
Common sense suggests that by way of
Self discovery, you, too, may
Stop scaring yourself into believing that
Meeting the needs of everyone else
Outweighs deeper truth, which suggests that
Each time an attitude of selflessness
Denies your basic needs
Your spirit will have just cause to deflate
 And BTW ...
You might also like to know that whatever experience
Proves responsible for your fearsome adoption of
Hyper vigilance may prove to be
Much less traumatic than experiences, which
Had been mine, and here's why
That proves true, much of the time:
An experience, so powerful as to have
Traumatized a portion of a your self esteem when
You were very young may not wield the same impact
While your adult brain is actively reprocessing
That which had utterly terrified a child

Over these past twenty years
Beginning with my separation from Will
I've worked, unknowingly, to resolve
An identity crises that began when I was little more than
A babe in arms ... and ever since that time of
Intense trauma, I've been on
A subconscious quest to revive the lost portion of my
Self assured voice, which had been swept into
A dark maelstorm of mental confusion so overwhelming
As to have fused my self worth with
Feelings of guilt due to the unidentified nature of
A self demeaning belief, which had deemed me
Less worthy of love than anyone on this planet and
In order to compensate for subconscious guilt
My needs bowed in subservience to
Everyone else's—until recently, when
EMDR therapy diagnosed my reactions as due to PTSD

As spooky goings on darken our minds during Halloween
And as life's harsh reality saw my extended family
Gathered, together, in the cemetary, yesterday
And as it's always darkest before each next dawning
I'll interpret my dreamscape for you when next we meet

As for now, I'll close for today by
Revealing two insights, concerning wisdom, which
Flashed through my mind in quick succession
Right after I'd expressed my interpretation of
The content of my dream to Will:

Insight #1
Wisdom comes with age only to those who
Prove so brave as to work toward understanding
The confounding nature of self contradiction, which
Messes with each person's mind, suggesting that
Self awareness, concerning self contradiction
Proves necessary before emotional confusion
Transforms into clarity, suggesting that
Clarity must precede insight into wisdom, every time

Insight #2
Deeper truth into the acquisition of wisdom suggests that
Wisdom is not a destination but rather a process that takes us from
Confusion to assumption to a false sense of surety until
Inner conflict arises, which brings us back to confusion, suggesting
That wisdom results when confusion recognizes
A need to ask for help in hopes of identifying
Confounding pieces of our own personal puzzles so that
Everyone involved can begin to make sense of
Emotional nonsense, which creates conflicts that
Divide loved ones into two separate camps

Eventually, if everyone involved learns to differentiate
Assumptions (which exacerbate confusion) from facts, which
Encourage the intuitive portion of the brain to
Fire off strings of insight into deeper truth—bigger pictures
Emerge fom dark places, where defensive denial had
Blinded intelligence from identifying primal fears, which
Cause us to peer at some people through rose colored lenses while
We feel the need to wear dark lenses when other people come into view …
Suggesting that wisdom is not a destination that we reach with age ...
Wisdom is a life long quest toward clarity, as long as one insight into
Deeper truth follows the next for as long as we live ...

As to my dream (which, upon interpretation
Inspired me to share today's insights into wisdom)
I'll have fun writing it, later, and hopefully
Upon reading it, tomorrow
You, too, will see the importance of 'looking in'
In hopes of identifying unprocessed fears, which
Your conscious mind denies, and
If you ask:  Why must I unearth these fears?
I'd reply:  Fears, left unprocessed and thus
Unresolved during childhood, create a duality of
Beliefs, which breathe life into self-contradiction
And as long as this duality of beliefs creates conflicting
Attitudes within the same conscious mind
The subconscious portion of your brain and mine
Will continue to signal us to clarify which belief is
Messing with our sense of clarity at those times when
Inner conflict runs interference with our ability to
Brainstorm intelligently during a difficult decision making process

And thus does your intuition and mine implore us to
Follow Socrates' lead, each time his spirit
Hovers so close as to whisper these words of wisdom into
Your ear and mine:
Continue to quest ever more deeply into yourself in order to
Know thyself more deeply today than yesterday and
Once clarity into deeper truth is yours, a simple plan—
Which had been just out of sight—will appear—
And if this simple plan proves workable to us both
Then your spirit and mine will feel free to soar—in the nick of time …

Tomorrow, you can expect me to describe
The most zany dream I've ever had ...
Your friend,
Annie

1175 HERE I AM

Thought not to show up, but here I am
Just wanted you to know that, yesterday
I came close to succumbing to an attack of PTSD

Felt fear beginning to usurp control over my brain
However, due to this conscious sense of recognition
I was able to voice my fear and ask for support

As emotional support was forthcoming
My think tank continued to muster the courage to
Maintain a greater degree of control over
My amygdala than had been possible
Before PTSD had been correctly diagnosed

Of the twenty, gathered for dinner, in our home
Seven knew of my need for support
And feeling supported, my smiles and
Warm hugs embraced each heart that
Walked in, regardless of whether or not
That heart had proved connected to
Positively focused thoughts

As for me:  I'd worked to maintain
This train of thought:
Be the change I wish for the world

Each time emotional static threatened to disrupt
The organization of my thoughts
I made good use of my line of control by closing my eyes and
Setting my concentration upon organizing my mind, and
In this knowledgable manner did I maintain control over
My brain as a whole during
The day and throughout the evening, most especially when
A series of overwhelming sensations caused me to believe that
Danger was closing in while engaging in conversation with
Someone, whose passive-aggressive misjudgement of
My character gave me reason to see myself as
The recipient of that person's negatively focused attitude, again

With first hand knowledge of PTSD and EMDR, which
Allows me to actively rewire the portion of my brain that
Had crossed wired when, as a child of three
I'd condemned myself responsible for the depth of
My mother's grief, I proved capable of
Containing my full blown post traumatic reaction until
The middle of the night, when
Will and I were alone in our room, and
I'd felt so safe as to awaken and release
The rush of emotional turmoil, which, having been
Tightly suppressed within my conscious mind
Throughout the day and evening, had need to
Pour out of my depths on a river of tears, and
While crying my distress, aloud, I heard my voice
Give word to distressing thoughts, which
Cleansed my mind of yet
Another layer of undeserved guilt, which had
Paralyzed my mental clarity in the past

Though last night's purging felt deeply painful
This morning's reflections suggest that
The degree of my anguish, last night, proved
Less potent than that which I'd felt in the past
Suggesting that as each layer of denial
Is disassembled, vulnerability is freed to
Strengthen during those times when
I find it necessary to retreat into
A safe haven where deeply thoughtful
Periods of reconstruction can
Take place, uninterrupted by the
Three ring circus that life proves to be

Each time an episode of PTSD
Feels less traumatic than the last
I can thankfully recognize this fact:
Each session of EMDR succeeds in
Reducing the mental torment I feel whenever
My fear-of-failure-to-please has reason to
Overwhelm my peace of mind and thus is
The pre-frontal lobe of my brain
Actually and steadily gaining control over
My amygdala's ability to
Torment my peace of mind by
Stimulating primal fear ...and so says
The little engine that could to the ant that moved ...

Today is the unveiling of my beloved mother's stone ...
Having listened to the fearsome beliefs that
Had need to gush out of my
Mouth on last night's river of tears
I continue to gain a clearer perspective as to
Why I'd needed to muster a ton of courage
In order to enjoy myself, last evening, while
Surrounded by extended family and dear friends ...
Some who know me in depth and some who
Believe to know me but prove, repeatedly
Not to know me, at all

And as I feel the need to rest my mind and
Relax my body by slipping into the hot tub before
Readying myself to depart for the cemetary
I'll bid you adieu until, tomorrow ...
Your tired-while-moving-forward-to-a-place-of
Repose-where-peace-of-mind-and
Freedom-of-spirit-await-to-welcome-your friend,
Annie

1174 THE BRAIN ON FEAR

2014
Quoted from Readers Digest (01-2014 p95)

"Basic biology tells us that bravery emerges from a primal struggle between the brain's decision-making hub (the pre-frontal cortex) and the focal point of fear (the amygdala).  When we find ourselves in an unexpected or dangerous situation, the amygdala sends a signal to the prefrontal cortex that interferes with our ability to reason clearly.  In extreme cases that can feel 'paralyzing', says Daniela Schiller, a neuroscientist at the Mount Sinai School of Medicine in New York."

If you ask:  Annie, why don't the brave succumb to fear? I'd defer to Dr. Schiller's reply:

"In some cases, they're (the brave) strengthened by the muscle memory that comes from intense training."

Just as is true of soldiers during basic training, Dr. Schiller goes on to say that "Flight attendants … practice until they're able to empty a jumbo jet filled with passengers in 90 seconds."

And just as baseball players practice throwing, catching and hitting balls, countless times, every day, year after year, so do basketball stars dribble, shoot and steal the ball out from under their opponents' noses, every chance they get.

If you ask:  Annie, why did you think to post this information, concerning the lasting effects of intensive brain training, today, I'd reply:
I plan to practice EMDR until my brain is trained to stop a bout of PTSD from paralyzing my voice in 90 seconds or less … and until that change-for-the-better proves habitual, I'll continue to review strings of insights that train my brain to be true to the well-rounded person I've worked, determinedly, to become—then if you ask me to describe the person I aspire to be, I'd reply:  I aspire to be the (firmly assertive, positively focused, compassionate) change I wish for the world.  Thank you, Gandhi.
Your friend (and mine),
😊Annie