It's not as if I've not been writing over these last five days ...
It's just that post 1351 had so much in the way of insight to offer that, with houseguests awaiting my presence, I could only edit Friday's intuitive stream of consciousness a paragraph at a time.
Once our dear friends flew home on Sunday evening, Monday morning saw my smile sparkling at Ravi, whose presence delighted my heart/mind connection from 10AM on Monday, until 9PM, when her daddy picked her up after calling us at 6:30 to say: Before picking up Ravi, I'd like to take Celina to dinner, because we've not had a moment, alone together, since she and Ravi picked me up from the airport on Sunday, upon my return from snowboarding for five days with the guys. As Steven's priorities concurred with my own and as bonus time spent with Ravi (who has been conferred with more than one pet name) is a joy, you can see why yesterday, which was packed solid, from morn till night with heartfelt fun, offered me no time to write or edit, at all.
So, I spent this morning conscientiously reviewing and clarifying every string of insight, which flowed freely from one paragraph to the next, throughout Friday morning's lengthy stream of intuitive thought, which had been penned before my recently departed house guests arrived late that afternoon. And though we've enjoyed everyone's stay, immensely, thank goodness, this next week and a half offers quiet days of peaceful repose before we fly to the coast to enjoy Tony's sixth birthday celebration with family and friends as this whirlwind month of March winds down ...
Tuesday, March 15, 2016
Friday, March 11, 2016
1351 INSIGHTS STILL POPPING ...
If you'd like to ask: Annie, what makes you explain so much in detail about the inner workings of the brain, I'd reply: What we don't know can hurt us in this way: If we don't know the essentials of what makes a complex machine (like the brain, which resides inside our heads) run smoothly in a well maintained manner then we can't gain control over its powers, and as self discipline is all about empowering your conscious awareness to maintain a balanced sense of control over the interactive components of your brain, I appear on your screen, offering a crash course in becoming your very own, highly skilled mechanic at times when the brains' of others, having lost their sense of balance, can't stop from acting manic.
For example, what if the 'key' that starts the engine inside your head is nowhere to be found, causing your wheels to feel stuck in a mental rut, which runs so deep as to block common sense from directing the steering wheel to take you where intuitive thought really wants to go ... Or if your brakes fail to stop your trains of thought from crashing, head on, into your own defensive walls then guess whose head is destined to ache with pain until your blocked sense of conscious awareness begins to identify those times when taking a leap of faith depends upon fueling your attitude with positive focus, which infuses your sense of self empowerment with injections of courage, which prove necessary when heartfelt goals that seem beyond your reach are actually yours for the taking once your mind's eye opens to see that the only obstruction stopping your spirit from taking that final leap of faith toward claiming the brass ring is ... Subconscious Guilt, based in childhood's unidentified Fear. Seriously, let's say that during a confounding time of personal crises (when astute decision making depends upon maintaining a consistent balance between emotional reactiveness and common sense), your attitude darkens so much as to blind you from seeing that your fuel tank is running on nothing but negatively focused fumes of fear, while, simultaneously, your radiator overheats and your gasket springs a leak ... Who ya gonna call? Clear-minded, Frustration Busters, of course!
All kidding aside ... perhaps, the reason why intuition directed my conscious mind to listen to each of my children's concerns with an attentive sense of hyper-vigilance (especially at times when I'd observed their frustrations over heating), is because, once they'd taken time out to calm down, I'd brainstorm with them in hopes of encouraging each one to identify fears and unmet needs, which had, most likely, felt too complex for their undeveloped thought processors to understand, much less express with clarity, without insightful help from a loving adult, who had their best interests at heart. Reflection suggests that my attentiveness keyed into my children's unvoiced needs, because my power of intuition, being in kahoots with my subconscious, 'knew' which of my emotional needs were still repressed behind my smile and therefore in need of being consciously addressed by my self awareness. On the other hand, my conscious awareness had not a clue (as of yet) as to why my thought processes ran along a different track than my parents trains of thought, though they'd loved my sister and me as deeply as I love my sons.
In short, I'd chosen to raise my children in an emotional environment, which I'd had need of, myself, at an earlier time when my parents had had no clue of how much of my emotional life had remained repressed, thus unexpressed to anyone during trying times in my young life when self help authors, other than Dr. Benjamin Spock, were, as yet, unpublished. As psychological research, unavailable to laymen in my parents' generation, was within my reach, I, being a teacher of children, held myself accountable for raising my sons, knowledgeably, and as each tidbit of information, which I'd hungrily devoured, had tasted of common sense, my power of intuition challenged my intelligence to—re-raise myself—suggestive of the fact that, unbeknownst to my conscious mind, intuition had begun to direct my sixth sense to seek out self help books, concerning listening and speaking skills until, over time, I began to sense an ever-deepening awareness of mental attentiveness to unmet needs, which, had been gagged and tied into guilt-ridden knots within my subconscious, itching for my private eye to develop the self assertive portion of my voice, which, upon taking a well-studied stance, would surely stand on a soapbox and orate my inner need to save the imprisoned portion of my self assertive voice from languishing, forever, within a self imposed life sentence of silence without so much as an insightful hope of parole. (Thank goodness, I'd chosen to listen astutely when my neighbor invited me to accompany her to parenting classes, which she'd found insightfully helpful, after she listened to me voice my concerns about disciplining my two year old without throwing emotionally reactive tantrums of my own. Thank goodness, my inner voice had made itself known, as we sat, conversing on that park bench, on a day when my attitude felt dark though the sun shone bright in the sky. Thank goodness, one positive change for the better leads to another—little by little ...)
Perhaps, I encouraged my children to develop (and make sound use of) the self assertive portion of their voices, early on, for this reason: My power of intuition 'knew' that somewhere within a subconscious pocket of my memory, fear of frowns had caused the natural development of my self assertive voice to retreat before the vulnerable age of three, and as long as that portion of my voice remained repressed, thus undeveloped, behind my defensive wall of denial, the vulnerable child, imprisoned within, could not ask for help each time a terrifying experience tore into my sense of physical safety, leaving my self respect in shreds ... and as long as that crucial portion of my voice remained silenced and my self respect felt torn away, shred by shred, year after year, all I could do to express the depth of my repressed mental confusion—inner conflict—and emotional distress, concerning my lack of personal safety, was to feel my body itching to send forth SOS signals, during sleepless nights, year in and year out, and though a sweet natured, blue eyed, little girl, who'd itched to get out of her skin, had scratched herself raw, no one suspected that my repressed sense of fear, confusion and fury had caused me to draw blood for this reason: While my body sent nocturnal signals of unvoiced desperation, persistently—by day, I'd smiled, cheerfully, with consistency, and as that contradiction of conflicting emotions persisted throughout my prepubescence, throughout my teen years and deep into my college experience, my itch grew more intense, exponentially, than words can describe—until the marriage bed sanctified that which a young, obedient girl had no conscious memory of having participated in until EMDR therapy offered me the 'key' that awakened my anesthetized awareness to unlock the blocked portion of my memory bank where a series of unmentionable experiences had taken up residence within the haunted portion of my subconscious ... And upon reflecting over that last string of insights, I finally know why my intuition, acting like an experienced jockey, tightening the reins on a powerful steed, has resisted my story teller's readiness to gallop forth from the gate! I mean, for sound reason, my rule of thumb has been: Remain mum and listen up until readiness to run, quick as the wind toward the win, fires the gun!
Perhaps, each emergent string of insights that guides my conscious mind to dive ever more deeply into my past in hopes of freeing the self-assertive (not to be confused with self-ish) stances, which I've grown capable of voicing with clarity, today, demonstrates the acuity of intuitive sensitivity, which must develop before my little voice can reveal strings of insight, which emerge from deep within my mind, signaling my conscious awareness to listen up whenever inner strengths, repressed subconsciously, have mustered the courage of readiness to reveal subconscious 'secrets', which I'd kept from myself. And each time a string of insights (concerning my newfound comprehension of emotional complexity), inspires me to sense that the time is ripe to take another small step toward the ultimate leap of faith that proves necessary to expose another piece of my deeply repressed, broken sense of self to my conscious mind, the portion of my self confidence, which had been severely wounded during childhood, feels a bit more healed than shattered. (Shattered describes how my self image was left to feel in the aftermath of each traumatizing experience, which caused serious injury to my innate sense of self confidence after the extreme reactiveness on the part of a beloved adult or a gang of bullies, whose battering behaviors frightened a child's-belief-in-his or-her-self-worth-half-to-death.) Thank goodness the frightened child I had been grew to adulthood and set out on an intuitive (create-your-own-unconscious-adventure) quest to gather clues in hopes of exposing my deeply repressed need to heal the wounded portion of my psyche from subconscious submission to a lifetime sentence of undeserved guilt, which had displaced peace of mind with anxiety each time the unhealed-portion-of-my-subconscious-fear-of-unworthiness entertained so much as an inkling of a thought about doing anything that might make any loved one frown harshly, angrily, judgmentally, deeming me, seemingly indefensibly, a bad (or worthless) girl—again. WHEW!
Now that I've gained insight into how best to express this haunting, daunting sense of undeserved guilt, which arose, anew, like a ghost-like death sentence from the past, sending shivers of unresolved anxiety down the adult/child's remorseful spine each time independent thought differed from parent tapes (or peer pressures) absorbed, decades ago, today, streams of conscious thought suggest that I had reason to fear frowns before every spirit in my family had been sucked into a bottomless black hole of grief upon the untimely demise of my baby sister, because ...
Volatile emotional battles for dominance (which had taken place within my childhood home before Janet's tragic death), caused my peace of mind to feel anxious, over most of my hyper vigilant life, for this reason: Behind my ready smile, a defensive wall of denial had unknowingly layered up, and behind these layers of denial lurked more than my fear of frowns. Within my own black hole, I'd also harbored fear of electrifying power struggles for dominance, and as fear of family fights disempowered my common sense, I'd submitted to the will of another until a therapist, versed in EMDR therapy, encouraged my adult intelligence to shore up and call forth inner strengths, which emerged, session by session, fortifying my sense of courage to work toward identifying and exorcising the emergent nature of fear-based guilt from its subterranean dungeon, and as intuitive trains of thought began to filter freely through my 'little voice' into my conscious mind, small steps forward led to leaps of faith, which, culminating in epiphany, had shone spotlights of insight upon my life long need to identify deeply repressed, emotional injuries to my psyche (which had left shattered portions of my self esteem festering rawly, subconsciously). And ever since my mental block against my true self worth unlocked, trickles of deeper truth have been offering me reason to resuscitate my self-assertive voice (suggestive of my ability to clearly express emotional revelations, first by way of penning intuitive streams of consciousness, then by voicing my little voice's awareness of personal growth, aloud, and what, I ask, could feel more profoundly self-healing than this train of intuitive thought, concerning my growing ability to retrieve a lost sense of balance, which precedes my having retrieved the sense of inner peace to which you play witness, today. Double WHEW!
At this moment, clarity suggests that intuition inspired my conscious mind to attend those parenting classes, which encouraged me to read a library of books, concerning raising my trio of sons in such a positively focused, open minded manner as to invite each one to place a high value upon working to heal injured parts of their psyches more readily than is true of most of the human species, which, generally, walks through each stage of life blind to mental blocks that conceal raw wounds, festering within subconscious pockets of our minds, and as mental blocks divide our minds into two warring parts, inner conflicts erupt, which is why peace of mind gives way to anxiety whenever thoughts, concerning gratifying personal needs, which do not agree with parental tapes (or bullying points of view), arouse childhood fears to haunt our sense of well being, today, and not until we rewind our memories in order to play back specific moments in time when a beloved parent's misbehavior 'declared' us unworthy of love or a bully's taunts declared us worthless, can we stop spinning our wheels in ruts made of undeserved guilt, which muddy up our sense of clarity, concerning our need to strengthen our adult connection to common sense when brainstorming toward open-minded, positively focused decisions proves necessary, today. Double WHEW!
Once intuitive thought enlightens my conscious mind as to where to start the next story, which I yearn to write, my storyteller/jockey will loosen its grip on the reins, at which time my fingers are sure to fly freely all over my keyboard, and all you'll need do to see my crate-your-own-adventure into parenting unfold, is to focus attentively on pictures, drawn with words, which will appear, first on my screen and then on yours ...
The question my conscious mind is blocked from answering, as of yet, is: When might that be?
Perhaps, the story won't unfold, naturally, until insights, which continue to flow through my Tunnel of Readiness, have cleared away stumbling rocks, which may be damming up my conscious story-telling stream of thought, for example: Do you know why a child's contradicting personality traits are formed by the age of five?
By the age of five, each child has experienced the confounding nature of observing, mimicking and absorbing emotional reactiveness, emoting from adult temper tantrums (some warranted, some not), which arouse the startle reflex inherent within the nervous system of every newborn babe. Or perhaps, during differences of opinion, the child watches communications grow confoundingly complex if one parent, who has learned that he, who yells loudest, longest wins, keeps bellowing for dominance while the other, who has learned to clam up, defensively—stone walls. Then, if, with the passage of time, a dark experience offers the confounded child's startle reflex reason to feel fearfully shocked into a suspended mode of emotional repression, everyone will come to expect this eager-to-please child's 'mask' of perfection as being real, through and through, when, deeper truth suggests that repressed, unresolved fear of unworthiness blocks this child's awareness from emoting whatever she or he really feels while a sibling, who did not experience need to 'act' perfect may feel free to wear natural frowns upon his or her face, and with time, the emotional patterns (habits) of each sibling may feel as though character traits (seen as positive and negative) absorbed by one or the other, are now and forever set in stone ... However, stone crumbles when emotional tornados blow defensive walls down. And, speaking from experience, everyone is shocked when a person's persona unmasks, freeing multi-dimensional traits, inclusive of subconscious vulnerabilities and repressed inner strengths, to fly clearly into sight. Therefore, in the aftermath of an emotional tornado, tis wise to seek the knowledge that proves necessary to observe where shattered pieces of each person's puzzle may have fallen, for this reason: Once we muster the intelligence and patience to figure out how to piece together unexpected emotional reactions, a multi-layered, bigger picture will be assembled, which conscious awareness had never thought to see clearly in 3D, before, and as we come to see that this reassembly of unexpected reactions fall in line with each person's history, intuitive streams of conscious thought ignite bursts of insight, which brightens the mind's ability to absorb the first glimpse of a series of positively focused plans of action, each of which hopes to create a series of well-balanced, lasting changes for the better, which the little voice of sixth sense has been trying to free from remaining subconsciously blocked from conscious awareness ever since adult tantrums or a gang of bullies tore away at portions of a sweet natured person's self esteem so early in life as to have created need for the child to grow up to create a detective within his or her sense of self ...
And thus, am I here to say: Old dogs can learn new tricks, because our traits, attitudes and thinking patterns are not set in stone. And though leopards can't grow new spots, we are not leopards. We are people, able to create plans of action by making good use of our neo Cortex, which a leopard's brain does not have.
Time and again, I've shown you that, when the thought processor of the human brain is in its natural, peaceful state of mind, intuitive trains of thought are capable of firing off the bright light of insight, which inspires layers of defensive walls to melt down, one by one, thus expanding brain space to welcome and absorb open minded, change for the better, based in positive focus holding hands with patience and common sense with a growing sense of consistency ...
Can you name the opposite of growth?
Stagnancy leading to shrinkage
Once, when my dad, in his eighties, said: I'm too old to change ...
My mom, who was a year older, replied: Well, I'm not dead, yet!
Nuff food for thought, for today?
Not a chance, as long as intuitive thought is on a roll ...
Perhaps a small child, condemned to feeling extremely guilty, undeservedly, will grow up, turn a corner and bump into Socrates, whose spirit swooshes down, here and there, pointing the finger of fate at certain folks who, for reasons, as yet unknown, harbor an intuitive need (as is true of one and all) to learn to work to heal themselves from emotional injury incurred during childhood ... And perhaps, in addition to the fickle finger of fate, intuition directs we fingered folk to grow up to be teachers, psychologists or psychiatrists, fated to encourage others to quest toward healing themselves, as well ... Or perhaps Socrates whispers words of wisdom into every ear, but some have had reason to grow more sensitive to tuning in to their intuitive trains of thought (little voice) early on while others have experienced reason to erect defensive walls made up of so many layers as to turn a deaf ear, perhaps, forever ... So sad but true ...
I guess, before my story feels ready to unfold, naturally, intuitive thought is suggestive of my need to quest more deeply for insight (into I know not what—as of yet) by asking questions, which emerge, like this one that just flew out of my mind: I wonder if you've considered which attitudes best fit your own (not as you were when you were young, but as your traits seem to have 'solidified', today)?
Do your attitudes remain defensively, judgmentally closed minded or are you fertilizing attitudes, which prove positively focused and younger than springtime by welcoming view points that challenge your conscious awareness to brainstorm toward creating change for the better, as in: If at first you don't succeed at achieving a heartfelt goal—try, try again ...
At times when life's complexities spin our brains, round and round
All we need do to stop spinning, dizzily, in a cyclical rut
Is to brainstorm with a positive focused attitude until
A plan that didn't come together, at first ... does, second time around!
And if you ask: Annie, what is our just reward for
Infusing our minds with the mantra
Never Give Up Growing Toward Realizing A Heartfelt Goal, I'd reply:
Those who Never Give Up Working To Realize A Heartfelt Goal
Feel our spirits glowing with
The sweet, sparkling smile of success
So, rather than shrugging your shoulders and giving up
Intelligence suggests tis wiser, by far, to infuse
Your wonderland plan with common sense, born of experience
And once positively focused adjustments have been made
Hearts, which feel younger than springtime—Try, try, again
PS
If positive focus was easily won
We'd not see a plethora of self help books
Concerning our need to gain insight into that subject, flying off the shelves ...
Once the benefits of identifying the source of your fear-based negativity offers
Your intelligence reason to make lasting adjustments to your original attitude
Your conscious awareness will open your eyes to a closed mindset
(Mental block) in need of opening, thus freeing your creativity to
Chew on, swallow, digest and absorb bite sized portions of strings of insight, which
Offer your sense of logic reason to feast on a brand new, expansive view of
Positively focused insights, concerning your history, as never before, and
Resultant of this natural progression toward lasting-attitude-change
The restless state of your mental, emotional and physical health will
Feel immeasurably blessed with your brain's new found, open-minded ability to
Balance a sense of inner peace with on-going strife, which remains
Beyond your newly self disciplined sense of emotional control, and each time
A change for the better in your attitude has consciously worked to penetrate
Yet another layer of your hot-headed or stone-walling defensive wall of denial
Your heightened sense of awareness will freely embrace and enjoy
A relaxed state of peaceful repose, which nurtures your spirit to feel
Younger than springtime, as does mine
And Amen to a positively focused train of thought as personally enriching as that!
For example, what if the 'key' that starts the engine inside your head is nowhere to be found, causing your wheels to feel stuck in a mental rut, which runs so deep as to block common sense from directing the steering wheel to take you where intuitive thought really wants to go ... Or if your brakes fail to stop your trains of thought from crashing, head on, into your own defensive walls then guess whose head is destined to ache with pain until your blocked sense of conscious awareness begins to identify those times when taking a leap of faith depends upon fueling your attitude with positive focus, which infuses your sense of self empowerment with injections of courage, which prove necessary when heartfelt goals that seem beyond your reach are actually yours for the taking once your mind's eye opens to see that the only obstruction stopping your spirit from taking that final leap of faith toward claiming the brass ring is ... Subconscious Guilt, based in childhood's unidentified Fear. Seriously, let's say that during a confounding time of personal crises (when astute decision making depends upon maintaining a consistent balance between emotional reactiveness and common sense), your attitude darkens so much as to blind you from seeing that your fuel tank is running on nothing but negatively focused fumes of fear, while, simultaneously, your radiator overheats and your gasket springs a leak ... Who ya gonna call? Clear-minded, Frustration Busters, of course!
All kidding aside ... perhaps, the reason why intuition directed my conscious mind to listen to each of my children's concerns with an attentive sense of hyper-vigilance (especially at times when I'd observed their frustrations over heating), is because, once they'd taken time out to calm down, I'd brainstorm with them in hopes of encouraging each one to identify fears and unmet needs, which had, most likely, felt too complex for their undeveloped thought processors to understand, much less express with clarity, without insightful help from a loving adult, who had their best interests at heart. Reflection suggests that my attentiveness keyed into my children's unvoiced needs, because my power of intuition, being in kahoots with my subconscious, 'knew' which of my emotional needs were still repressed behind my smile and therefore in need of being consciously addressed by my self awareness. On the other hand, my conscious awareness had not a clue (as of yet) as to why my thought processes ran along a different track than my parents trains of thought, though they'd loved my sister and me as deeply as I love my sons.
In short, I'd chosen to raise my children in an emotional environment, which I'd had need of, myself, at an earlier time when my parents had had no clue of how much of my emotional life had remained repressed, thus unexpressed to anyone during trying times in my young life when self help authors, other than Dr. Benjamin Spock, were, as yet, unpublished. As psychological research, unavailable to laymen in my parents' generation, was within my reach, I, being a teacher of children, held myself accountable for raising my sons, knowledgeably, and as each tidbit of information, which I'd hungrily devoured, had tasted of common sense, my power of intuition challenged my intelligence to—re-raise myself—suggestive of the fact that, unbeknownst to my conscious mind, intuition had begun to direct my sixth sense to seek out self help books, concerning listening and speaking skills until, over time, I began to sense an ever-deepening awareness of mental attentiveness to unmet needs, which, had been gagged and tied into guilt-ridden knots within my subconscious, itching for my private eye to develop the self assertive portion of my voice, which, upon taking a well-studied stance, would surely stand on a soapbox and orate my inner need to save the imprisoned portion of my self assertive voice from languishing, forever, within a self imposed life sentence of silence without so much as an insightful hope of parole. (Thank goodness, I'd chosen to listen astutely when my neighbor invited me to accompany her to parenting classes, which she'd found insightfully helpful, after she listened to me voice my concerns about disciplining my two year old without throwing emotionally reactive tantrums of my own. Thank goodness, my inner voice had made itself known, as we sat, conversing on that park bench, on a day when my attitude felt dark though the sun shone bright in the sky. Thank goodness, one positive change for the better leads to another—little by little ...)
Perhaps, I encouraged my children to develop (and make sound use of) the self assertive portion of their voices, early on, for this reason: My power of intuition 'knew' that somewhere within a subconscious pocket of my memory, fear of frowns had caused the natural development of my self assertive voice to retreat before the vulnerable age of three, and as long as that portion of my voice remained repressed, thus undeveloped, behind my defensive wall of denial, the vulnerable child, imprisoned within, could not ask for help each time a terrifying experience tore into my sense of physical safety, leaving my self respect in shreds ... and as long as that crucial portion of my voice remained silenced and my self respect felt torn away, shred by shred, year after year, all I could do to express the depth of my repressed mental confusion—inner conflict—and emotional distress, concerning my lack of personal safety, was to feel my body itching to send forth SOS signals, during sleepless nights, year in and year out, and though a sweet natured, blue eyed, little girl, who'd itched to get out of her skin, had scratched herself raw, no one suspected that my repressed sense of fear, confusion and fury had caused me to draw blood for this reason: While my body sent nocturnal signals of unvoiced desperation, persistently—by day, I'd smiled, cheerfully, with consistency, and as that contradiction of conflicting emotions persisted throughout my prepubescence, throughout my teen years and deep into my college experience, my itch grew more intense, exponentially, than words can describe—until the marriage bed sanctified that which a young, obedient girl had no conscious memory of having participated in until EMDR therapy offered me the 'key' that awakened my anesthetized awareness to unlock the blocked portion of my memory bank where a series of unmentionable experiences had taken up residence within the haunted portion of my subconscious ... And upon reflecting over that last string of insights, I finally know why my intuition, acting like an experienced jockey, tightening the reins on a powerful steed, has resisted my story teller's readiness to gallop forth from the gate! I mean, for sound reason, my rule of thumb has been: Remain mum and listen up until readiness to run, quick as the wind toward the win, fires the gun!
Perhaps, each emergent string of insights that guides my conscious mind to dive ever more deeply into my past in hopes of freeing the self-assertive (not to be confused with self-ish) stances, which I've grown capable of voicing with clarity, today, demonstrates the acuity of intuitive sensitivity, which must develop before my little voice can reveal strings of insight, which emerge from deep within my mind, signaling my conscious awareness to listen up whenever inner strengths, repressed subconsciously, have mustered the courage of readiness to reveal subconscious 'secrets', which I'd kept from myself. And each time a string of insights (concerning my newfound comprehension of emotional complexity), inspires me to sense that the time is ripe to take another small step toward the ultimate leap of faith that proves necessary to expose another piece of my deeply repressed, broken sense of self to my conscious mind, the portion of my self confidence, which had been severely wounded during childhood, feels a bit more healed than shattered. (Shattered describes how my self image was left to feel in the aftermath of each traumatizing experience, which caused serious injury to my innate sense of self confidence after the extreme reactiveness on the part of a beloved adult or a gang of bullies, whose battering behaviors frightened a child's-belief-in-his or-her-self-worth-half-to-death.) Thank goodness the frightened child I had been grew to adulthood and set out on an intuitive (create-your-own-unconscious-adventure) quest to gather clues in hopes of exposing my deeply repressed need to heal the wounded portion of my psyche from subconscious submission to a lifetime sentence of undeserved guilt, which had displaced peace of mind with anxiety each time the unhealed-portion-of-my-subconscious-fear-of-unworthiness entertained so much as an inkling of a thought about doing anything that might make any loved one frown harshly, angrily, judgmentally, deeming me, seemingly indefensibly, a bad (or worthless) girl—again. WHEW!
Now that I've gained insight into how best to express this haunting, daunting sense of undeserved guilt, which arose, anew, like a ghost-like death sentence from the past, sending shivers of unresolved anxiety down the adult/child's remorseful spine each time independent thought differed from parent tapes (or peer pressures) absorbed, decades ago, today, streams of conscious thought suggest that I had reason to fear frowns before every spirit in my family had been sucked into a bottomless black hole of grief upon the untimely demise of my baby sister, because ...
Volatile emotional battles for dominance (which had taken place within my childhood home before Janet's tragic death), caused my peace of mind to feel anxious, over most of my hyper vigilant life, for this reason: Behind my ready smile, a defensive wall of denial had unknowingly layered up, and behind these layers of denial lurked more than my fear of frowns. Within my own black hole, I'd also harbored fear of electrifying power struggles for dominance, and as fear of family fights disempowered my common sense, I'd submitted to the will of another until a therapist, versed in EMDR therapy, encouraged my adult intelligence to shore up and call forth inner strengths, which emerged, session by session, fortifying my sense of courage to work toward identifying and exorcising the emergent nature of fear-based guilt from its subterranean dungeon, and as intuitive trains of thought began to filter freely through my 'little voice' into my conscious mind, small steps forward led to leaps of faith, which, culminating in epiphany, had shone spotlights of insight upon my life long need to identify deeply repressed, emotional injuries to my psyche (which had left shattered portions of my self esteem festering rawly, subconsciously). And ever since my mental block against my true self worth unlocked, trickles of deeper truth have been offering me reason to resuscitate my self-assertive voice (suggestive of my ability to clearly express emotional revelations, first by way of penning intuitive streams of consciousness, then by voicing my little voice's awareness of personal growth, aloud, and what, I ask, could feel more profoundly self-healing than this train of intuitive thought, concerning my growing ability to retrieve a lost sense of balance, which precedes my having retrieved the sense of inner peace to which you play witness, today. Double WHEW!
At this moment, clarity suggests that intuition inspired my conscious mind to attend those parenting classes, which encouraged me to read a library of books, concerning raising my trio of sons in such a positively focused, open minded manner as to invite each one to place a high value upon working to heal injured parts of their psyches more readily than is true of most of the human species, which, generally, walks through each stage of life blind to mental blocks that conceal raw wounds, festering within subconscious pockets of our minds, and as mental blocks divide our minds into two warring parts, inner conflicts erupt, which is why peace of mind gives way to anxiety whenever thoughts, concerning gratifying personal needs, which do not agree with parental tapes (or bullying points of view), arouse childhood fears to haunt our sense of well being, today, and not until we rewind our memories in order to play back specific moments in time when a beloved parent's misbehavior 'declared' us unworthy of love or a bully's taunts declared us worthless, can we stop spinning our wheels in ruts made of undeserved guilt, which muddy up our sense of clarity, concerning our need to strengthen our adult connection to common sense when brainstorming toward open-minded, positively focused decisions proves necessary, today. Double WHEW!
Once intuitive thought enlightens my conscious mind as to where to start the next story, which I yearn to write, my storyteller/jockey will loosen its grip on the reins, at which time my fingers are sure to fly freely all over my keyboard, and all you'll need do to see my crate-your-own-adventure into parenting unfold, is to focus attentively on pictures, drawn with words, which will appear, first on my screen and then on yours ...
The question my conscious mind is blocked from answering, as of yet, is: When might that be?
Perhaps, the story won't unfold, naturally, until insights, which continue to flow through my Tunnel of Readiness, have cleared away stumbling rocks, which may be damming up my conscious story-telling stream of thought, for example: Do you know why a child's contradicting personality traits are formed by the age of five?
By the age of five, each child has experienced the confounding nature of observing, mimicking and absorbing emotional reactiveness, emoting from adult temper tantrums (some warranted, some not), which arouse the startle reflex inherent within the nervous system of every newborn babe. Or perhaps, during differences of opinion, the child watches communications grow confoundingly complex if one parent, who has learned that he, who yells loudest, longest wins, keeps bellowing for dominance while the other, who has learned to clam up, defensively—stone walls. Then, if, with the passage of time, a dark experience offers the confounded child's startle reflex reason to feel fearfully shocked into a suspended mode of emotional repression, everyone will come to expect this eager-to-please child's 'mask' of perfection as being real, through and through, when, deeper truth suggests that repressed, unresolved fear of unworthiness blocks this child's awareness from emoting whatever she or he really feels while a sibling, who did not experience need to 'act' perfect may feel free to wear natural frowns upon his or her face, and with time, the emotional patterns (habits) of each sibling may feel as though character traits (seen as positive and negative) absorbed by one or the other, are now and forever set in stone ... However, stone crumbles when emotional tornados blow defensive walls down. And, speaking from experience, everyone is shocked when a person's persona unmasks, freeing multi-dimensional traits, inclusive of subconscious vulnerabilities and repressed inner strengths, to fly clearly into sight. Therefore, in the aftermath of an emotional tornado, tis wise to seek the knowledge that proves necessary to observe where shattered pieces of each person's puzzle may have fallen, for this reason: Once we muster the intelligence and patience to figure out how to piece together unexpected emotional reactions, a multi-layered, bigger picture will be assembled, which conscious awareness had never thought to see clearly in 3D, before, and as we come to see that this reassembly of unexpected reactions fall in line with each person's history, intuitive streams of conscious thought ignite bursts of insight, which brightens the mind's ability to absorb the first glimpse of a series of positively focused plans of action, each of which hopes to create a series of well-balanced, lasting changes for the better, which the little voice of sixth sense has been trying to free from remaining subconsciously blocked from conscious awareness ever since adult tantrums or a gang of bullies tore away at portions of a sweet natured person's self esteem so early in life as to have created need for the child to grow up to create a detective within his or her sense of self ...
And thus, am I here to say: Old dogs can learn new tricks, because our traits, attitudes and thinking patterns are not set in stone. And though leopards can't grow new spots, we are not leopards. We are people, able to create plans of action by making good use of our neo Cortex, which a leopard's brain does not have.
Time and again, I've shown you that, when the thought processor of the human brain is in its natural, peaceful state of mind, intuitive trains of thought are capable of firing off the bright light of insight, which inspires layers of defensive walls to melt down, one by one, thus expanding brain space to welcome and absorb open minded, change for the better, based in positive focus holding hands with patience and common sense with a growing sense of consistency ...
Can you name the opposite of growth?
Stagnancy leading to shrinkage
Once, when my dad, in his eighties, said: I'm too old to change ...
My mom, who was a year older, replied: Well, I'm not dead, yet!
Nuff food for thought, for today?
Not a chance, as long as intuitive thought is on a roll ...
Perhaps a small child, condemned to feeling extremely guilty, undeservedly, will grow up, turn a corner and bump into Socrates, whose spirit swooshes down, here and there, pointing the finger of fate at certain folks who, for reasons, as yet unknown, harbor an intuitive need (as is true of one and all) to learn to work to heal themselves from emotional injury incurred during childhood ... And perhaps, in addition to the fickle finger of fate, intuition directs we fingered folk to grow up to be teachers, psychologists or psychiatrists, fated to encourage others to quest toward healing themselves, as well ... Or perhaps Socrates whispers words of wisdom into every ear, but some have had reason to grow more sensitive to tuning in to their intuitive trains of thought (little voice) early on while others have experienced reason to erect defensive walls made up of so many layers as to turn a deaf ear, perhaps, forever ... So sad but true ...
I guess, before my story feels ready to unfold, naturally, intuitive thought is suggestive of my need to quest more deeply for insight (into I know not what—as of yet) by asking questions, which emerge, like this one that just flew out of my mind: I wonder if you've considered which attitudes best fit your own (not as you were when you were young, but as your traits seem to have 'solidified', today)?
Do your attitudes remain defensively, judgmentally closed minded or are you fertilizing attitudes, which prove positively focused and younger than springtime by welcoming view points that challenge your conscious awareness to brainstorm toward creating change for the better, as in: If at first you don't succeed at achieving a heartfelt goal—try, try again ...
At times when life's complexities spin our brains, round and round
All we need do to stop spinning, dizzily, in a cyclical rut
Is to brainstorm with a positive focused attitude until
A plan that didn't come together, at first ... does, second time around!
And if you ask: Annie, what is our just reward for
Infusing our minds with the mantra
Never Give Up Growing Toward Realizing A Heartfelt Goal, I'd reply:
Those who Never Give Up Working To Realize A Heartfelt Goal
Feel our spirits glowing with
The sweet, sparkling smile of success
So, rather than shrugging your shoulders and giving up
Intelligence suggests tis wiser, by far, to infuse
Your wonderland plan with common sense, born of experience
And once positively focused adjustments have been made
Hearts, which feel younger than springtime—Try, try, again
PS
If positive focus was easily won
We'd not see a plethora of self help books
Concerning our need to gain insight into that subject, flying off the shelves ...
Once the benefits of identifying the source of your fear-based negativity offers
Your intelligence reason to make lasting adjustments to your original attitude
Your conscious awareness will open your eyes to a closed mindset
(Mental block) in need of opening, thus freeing your creativity to
Chew on, swallow, digest and absorb bite sized portions of strings of insight, which
Offer your sense of logic reason to feast on a brand new, expansive view of
Positively focused insights, concerning your history, as never before, and
Resultant of this natural progression toward lasting-attitude-change
The restless state of your mental, emotional and physical health will
Feel immeasurably blessed with your brain's new found, open-minded ability to
Balance a sense of inner peace with on-going strife, which remains
Beyond your newly self disciplined sense of emotional control, and each time
A change for the better in your attitude has consciously worked to penetrate
Yet another layer of your hot-headed or stone-walling defensive wall of denial
Your heightened sense of awareness will freely embrace and enjoy
A relaxed state of peaceful repose, which nurtures your spirit to feel
Younger than springtime, as does mine
And Amen to a positively focused train of thought as personally enriching as that!
Thursday, March 10, 2016
1350 INSIGHTS THAT BEGAN POPPING OUT ONCE INNER TENSION RELAXED ...
INSIGHTS THAT BEGAN POPPING OUT ONCE INNER TENSION RELAXED ...
(But first, a word from our sponsor: My first swipe at editing post 1340 has been done ...)
Okay, here come fully formed insights, which were scribbled on notes while yours truly went about my business of enjoying life as yesterday unfolded, hour by hour ...
Perhaps, the conscious portion of my mind chose to listen to my children's concerns with a sense of hyper-vigilance (especially once they'd calmed down in time out after acting out) for this reason: My sixth sense harbored hopes of guiding each one toward identifying unmet needs, which may have proved too complex for the undeveloped thought processor of a child to understand, much less express with words. If you asked: Annie, how often did your 'little voice, inside 'talk to your conscious mind? I'd reply: About as often as your little voice speaks to you with this caveat: Over time, I came to differentiate between two little voices, which caused my head to ache with inner conflict: My defensive voice, which kept my trains of thought cycling round dark visions of the future, based in fear vs my intuitive voice, which directed my trains of thought to switch tracks away from defensiveness in order to chug forward, stoked with positive focus that colored in sunlit visions of my ability to brainstorm toward the creation of plans, offering change for the better ... And if you ask how my conscious mind learned to listen for insight, which had not yet emerged from the intuitive portion of my mind, I'd reply: the more my conscious mind learned about the interactive parts of my brain, the more in tune my awareness became with my subconscious signaling me to develop a greater degree of awareness as to which little voice was speaking to me ... The voice based in my defense ststem's negatively focused fear of failure or the voice fortified by positively focused courage, and each time I followed the voice, empowered with courage, my conscious awareness grew less fearful of gleaning insight into secrets that Mother Nature had thought best to repress within my subconscious, which had terrified me during childhood.
Since, subconsciously, I 'knew' which of my emotional needs had remained locked up and silenced within an unidentified state of suspended petrifaction, and since the intuitive portion of my brain did not want that to happen for my free spirited sons (and though my conscious awareness had no clue of my need to find the missing 'key', which would open a door in my brain where My inquisitive intelligence would feel naturally compelled to quest toward exposing the main root of my buried fear to my conscious mind), my brain, working as well-balanced whole, compiled (and absorbed) a library of child rearing books, which, one day, led me to read several books, concerning an adult need to work, diligently, to clue into oneself, detail by detail, until strings of emergent insight fired off an epiphany that spotlighted the original, repressed fear of failure, which had swallowed a self assertive portion of every adult's voice when our thought processors were too undeveloped to comprehend emotional complexities, which still confound our common sense, today.
Perhaps, I encouraged my children to develop (and practice making sound use of) the self assertive portion of their voices, because my power of intuition had 'known', that fear of frowns had caused the natural development of a portion of my self assertive voice to retreat into a pocket of my subconscious at the vulnerable age of three, and as long as that portion of my voice remained repressed and caged behind my defensive wall of denial, the vulnerable child I had been could not ask for help each time a terrifying experience tore into my sense of physical safety, leaving my self respect in shreds ... And as long as my voice was silent and my self respect felt torn away, shred by shred, all I could do to express the depth of my mental confusion, inner conflict and emotional distress, concerning my lack of emotional safety, was to watch my body send forth this SOS, during sleepless nights, year in and year out, and thus did I itch to get out of my skin, causing a sweet natured, blue eyed, little girl to scratch herself raw until she drew blood ... In short, my body, sent out smoke signals of unvoiced desperation, persistently, throughout my prepubescence, throughout my teen years and deep into my college experience by firing up an itch that burned into my psyche more intensely than words can describe... until the marriage bed sanctified that which I had no conscious memory of having participating in until EMDR therapy awakened my anesthetized awareness by unlocking that blocked portion of my memory bank, which continues to withdraw one repressed (forgotten) detail, at a time ... And having penned that last string of insights, I finally know why my subconscious, acting like an experienced jockey, holding a tight rein, insisted that intuitive thought suppress my story teller's readiness to gallop forth from the gate until certain insights cleared away the sense of fogginess, which has blocked my storyteller from seeing the light of day until a spotlight highlighted the primary reason why my sons grew up, respecting my listening skills, which continue to offer each them an open-minded ear while my voice, asking questions, taps into their voice of intuitive thought, which, upon flowing naturally out of their depths, simplifies their comprehension of complex emotion, which continues to surface, today. I mean, for sound reason, my rule of thumb has been: Remain mum and listen intently until readiness fires the gun, freeing common sense to run straight toward home plate (Please ... Let's not quibble about mixed metaphors, or I'll be re-editing this post, forever!)
Perhaps, each emergent string of insights that has guided my conscious mind to dive ever more deeply into my past (in hopes of freeing the self-assertive ... not to be confused with sel-fish ... stances, which I'm capable of voicing with clarity, today), demonstrates the acuity of intuitive sensitivity (which my awareness has chosen to develop) that releases strings of insight, which direct my conscious mind to listen up when my subconscious fires off signals that inner strengths, concerning my comprehension of emotional complexity, have developed the readiness necessary to open my mind to receive secrets, which I'd kept from myself until the time felt ripe to take each next small step forward toward the leap of faith that proves necessary to repair my broken sense of self, which had been shattered during early-childhood experiences that had seriously injured my innate sense of self confidence at times when the extreme reactiveness of a beloved adult (or a bullying gang of boys) had frightened my belief in my self worth half to death, and from that time on, the unhealed portion of my misperceived self accessment (now grown to adulthood), has had no clue of harboring a deeply repressed need to repair the wounded portions of my psyche from subconscious submission to a lifetime-sentence-of-undeserved-guilt, which destroys peace of mind each time the unhealed-portion-of-my-inner-child's-buried-fear-of-unworthiness entertains so much as an inkling of a thought about doing anything that would make any loved one frown harshly, angrily, and condemningly, indefensively judgmentally, in my direction, again. And thus did a haunting (clarity daunting) sense of undeserved guilt arise, like a ghost-like death threat from the past, sending shivers of unresolved anxiety down my remorseful adult/child's spine whenever an independent thought of my own differed from parent tapes, absorbed, decades ago, at my mother's or father's knee ...
As volatile emotional battles for dominance had been common within my early childhood home, my peace of mind had reason to go to war with subconscious anxiety, over most of my hyper vigilant life for this reason: Behind my ready smile, a defensive wall of denial had layered up, behind which lurked a ghost from the past, empowered to scare my common sense half to death until EMDR therapy encouraged my adult intelligence to shore up mental strengths, which, session by session, have successfully worked to identify and exorcise the emergent nature of latent guilt from its subteraneous throne, where it usurped control over my balanced sense of self, and once I began to sense each deeply repressed, emotional injury (which had left portions of my self esteem festering rawly and fearfully, subconsciously), my mental block against my true self worth unlocked, and ever since I began to engage my conscious mind with SESSIONS OF EMDR, the emergence of deeper truth, surfacing within spotlights of insights, has offered me reason retrieve my lost sense of inner peace, which my quest to enhance self awareness continues to piece together as each detail of fearsomely 'forgotten' memories re-emerge, and thus do I say: Amen having reclaimed and made good use of my self assertive little voice in recent years, suggesting my ability to express complex emotional revelations in words that clarify each stream of consciousness, which feels as profoundly self-healing as is true of this train of intuitive thought to which you play witness, today. WHEW!
*At this moment, clarity suggests that today's stream of intuitive thought has been guiding me to say that on a daily basis, emergent strings of insight inspired my conscious mind to raise my trio of sons in such an open minded manner as to invite each one to place a high value upon working to heal injured parts of their psyches more readily than is true of the human species, which, generally, walks through life, blind to mental blocks, concerning raw wounds, festering, within subconscious pockets of our minds, and as mental blocks divide our minds into two separate parts, inner conflicts erupt, which is why inner peace gives way to anxiety whenever a personal decision to consider an unmet need differs from parental tapes that frown inside our heads, and once we can rewind play back the specific moment in time when a beloved parent's behavior declared us unworthy of love, we can stop sinning our wheels in a rut made of guilt that muddies up our sense of clarity, concerning common sense.
As soon as intuitive thought enlightens my conscious mind as to where to start the story that I've been longing to write, my storyteller/jockey will loosen its tight grip on the reins ... And as my stylus flies from letter to letter, all over my keyboard, all you'll need do to watch my past unfold before your eyes is to focus your attention on pictures, drawn with words, which are sure to appear, first on my screen and then on yours ... The question that my conscious mind is blocked from answering, as of yet, is: When?
*Hmmm ... Perhaps, the story won't unfold smoothly until insights, which are still flowing freely, have cleared certain rocks out of whatever has been damming up my stream of thought, for example: Do you know why a child's contradictive personality traits are formed by the age of five? By the age of five, each child has experienced the confounding nature of mimicking extreme emotional reactions (some warranted, some not) emoting from adult temper tantrums, which frighten the startle reflex, inherent within the nervous system of every newborn babe in arms ... Then, with the passage of time, if the starle reflex has been fearfully shocked into a suspended sense of emotional repression, everyone comes to expect this child's 'mask' of perfection as being real, through and through, while a sibling's defensive mask draws a frown on his or her face, and with time, these emotional patterns may seem to feel as though positive and negative character traits of each sibling are now and forever set in stone ... However, stone crumbles when defensive walls tumble down, and everyone is shocked to see a person's real life, multi-dimensional traits, including subconscious vulnerabilities, flying around ...
I'm here to say: Our traits are not set in stone ... Because ...
In its natural state, the thought processor of the human brain is capable of firing off insight, inspiring layers of defensive walls to melt down, thus expanding brain space to welcome and absorb change for the better, based in common sense, forever ...
When my dad said: I'm too old to change ...
My mom replied: Well, I'm not dead, yet!
Nuff food for thought, for today?
Not a chance, as long as intuitive thought is on a roll ...
Perhaps a small child, condemned to feeling extremely guilty, undeservedly, will grow up, turn a corner and bump into Socrates, whose spirit swooshes down, here and there, pointing the finger of fate at those who, for reasons, as yet unknown, harbor an intuitive need (as is true of one and all) to learn to work to heal themselves from emotional injury incurred during childhood ... And perhaps, intuition directs we fingered folks grow up to be teachers, psychologists or psychiatrists, fated to encourage others to quest toward healing, as well ... Or perhaps Socrates whispers words of wisdom into every ear, but some tune in early on while others have experienced reason to erect defensive walls made up of so many layers as to turn a deaf ear, forever ... So sad but true ...
I guess intuitive thought is suggestive of my asking which group best fits you ...
(But first, a word from our sponsor: My first swipe at editing post 1340 has been done ...)
Okay, here come fully formed insights, which were scribbled on notes while yours truly went about my business of enjoying life as yesterday unfolded, hour by hour ...
Perhaps, the conscious portion of my mind chose to listen to my children's concerns with a sense of hyper-vigilance (especially once they'd calmed down in time out after acting out) for this reason: My sixth sense harbored hopes of guiding each one toward identifying unmet needs, which may have proved too complex for the undeveloped thought processor of a child to understand, much less express with words. If you asked: Annie, how often did your 'little voice, inside 'talk to your conscious mind? I'd reply: About as often as your little voice speaks to you with this caveat: Over time, I came to differentiate between two little voices, which caused my head to ache with inner conflict: My defensive voice, which kept my trains of thought cycling round dark visions of the future, based in fear vs my intuitive voice, which directed my trains of thought to switch tracks away from defensiveness in order to chug forward, stoked with positive focus that colored in sunlit visions of my ability to brainstorm toward the creation of plans, offering change for the better ... And if you ask how my conscious mind learned to listen for insight, which had not yet emerged from the intuitive portion of my mind, I'd reply: the more my conscious mind learned about the interactive parts of my brain, the more in tune my awareness became with my subconscious signaling me to develop a greater degree of awareness as to which little voice was speaking to me ... The voice based in my defense ststem's negatively focused fear of failure or the voice fortified by positively focused courage, and each time I followed the voice, empowered with courage, my conscious awareness grew less fearful of gleaning insight into secrets that Mother Nature had thought best to repress within my subconscious, which had terrified me during childhood.
Since, subconsciously, I 'knew' which of my emotional needs had remained locked up and silenced within an unidentified state of suspended petrifaction, and since the intuitive portion of my brain did not want that to happen for my free spirited sons (and though my conscious awareness had no clue of my need to find the missing 'key', which would open a door in my brain where My inquisitive intelligence would feel naturally compelled to quest toward exposing the main root of my buried fear to my conscious mind), my brain, working as well-balanced whole, compiled (and absorbed) a library of child rearing books, which, one day, led me to read several books, concerning an adult need to work, diligently, to clue into oneself, detail by detail, until strings of emergent insight fired off an epiphany that spotlighted the original, repressed fear of failure, which had swallowed a self assertive portion of every adult's voice when our thought processors were too undeveloped to comprehend emotional complexities, which still confound our common sense, today.
Perhaps, I encouraged my children to develop (and practice making sound use of) the self assertive portion of their voices, because my power of intuition had 'known', that fear of frowns had caused the natural development of a portion of my self assertive voice to retreat into a pocket of my subconscious at the vulnerable age of three, and as long as that portion of my voice remained repressed and caged behind my defensive wall of denial, the vulnerable child I had been could not ask for help each time a terrifying experience tore into my sense of physical safety, leaving my self respect in shreds ... And as long as my voice was silent and my self respect felt torn away, shred by shred, all I could do to express the depth of my mental confusion, inner conflict and emotional distress, concerning my lack of emotional safety, was to watch my body send forth this SOS, during sleepless nights, year in and year out, and thus did I itch to get out of my skin, causing a sweet natured, blue eyed, little girl to scratch herself raw until she drew blood ... In short, my body, sent out smoke signals of unvoiced desperation, persistently, throughout my prepubescence, throughout my teen years and deep into my college experience by firing up an itch that burned into my psyche more intensely than words can describe... until the marriage bed sanctified that which I had no conscious memory of having participating in until EMDR therapy awakened my anesthetized awareness by unlocking that blocked portion of my memory bank, which continues to withdraw one repressed (forgotten) detail, at a time ... And having penned that last string of insights, I finally know why my subconscious, acting like an experienced jockey, holding a tight rein, insisted that intuitive thought suppress my story teller's readiness to gallop forth from the gate until certain insights cleared away the sense of fogginess, which has blocked my storyteller from seeing the light of day until a spotlight highlighted the primary reason why my sons grew up, respecting my listening skills, which continue to offer each them an open-minded ear while my voice, asking questions, taps into their voice of intuitive thought, which, upon flowing naturally out of their depths, simplifies their comprehension of complex emotion, which continues to surface, today. I mean, for sound reason, my rule of thumb has been: Remain mum and listen intently until readiness fires the gun, freeing common sense to run straight toward home plate (Please ... Let's not quibble about mixed metaphors, or I'll be re-editing this post, forever!)
Perhaps, each emergent string of insights that has guided my conscious mind to dive ever more deeply into my past (in hopes of freeing the self-assertive ... not to be confused with sel-fish ... stances, which I'm capable of voicing with clarity, today), demonstrates the acuity of intuitive sensitivity (which my awareness has chosen to develop) that releases strings of insight, which direct my conscious mind to listen up when my subconscious fires off signals that inner strengths, concerning my comprehension of emotional complexity, have developed the readiness necessary to open my mind to receive secrets, which I'd kept from myself until the time felt ripe to take each next small step forward toward the leap of faith that proves necessary to repair my broken sense of self, which had been shattered during early-childhood experiences that had seriously injured my innate sense of self confidence at times when the extreme reactiveness of a beloved adult (or a bullying gang of boys) had frightened my belief in my self worth half to death, and from that time on, the unhealed portion of my misperceived self accessment (now grown to adulthood), has had no clue of harboring a deeply repressed need to repair the wounded portions of my psyche from subconscious submission to a lifetime-sentence-of-undeserved-guilt, which destroys peace of mind each time the unhealed-portion-of-my-inner-child's-buried-fear-of-unworthiness entertains so much as an inkling of a thought about doing anything that would make any loved one frown harshly, angrily, and condemningly, indefensively judgmentally, in my direction, again. And thus did a haunting (clarity daunting) sense of undeserved guilt arise, like a ghost-like death threat from the past, sending shivers of unresolved anxiety down my remorseful adult/child's spine whenever an independent thought of my own differed from parent tapes, absorbed, decades ago, at my mother's or father's knee ...
As volatile emotional battles for dominance had been common within my early childhood home, my peace of mind had reason to go to war with subconscious anxiety, over most of my hyper vigilant life for this reason: Behind my ready smile, a defensive wall of denial had layered up, behind which lurked a ghost from the past, empowered to scare my common sense half to death until EMDR therapy encouraged my adult intelligence to shore up mental strengths, which, session by session, have successfully worked to identify and exorcise the emergent nature of latent guilt from its subteraneous throne, where it usurped control over my balanced sense of self, and once I began to sense each deeply repressed, emotional injury (which had left portions of my self esteem festering rawly and fearfully, subconsciously), my mental block against my true self worth unlocked, and ever since I began to engage my conscious mind with SESSIONS OF EMDR, the emergence of deeper truth, surfacing within spotlights of insights, has offered me reason retrieve my lost sense of inner peace, which my quest to enhance self awareness continues to piece together as each detail of fearsomely 'forgotten' memories re-emerge, and thus do I say: Amen having reclaimed and made good use of my self assertive little voice in recent years, suggesting my ability to express complex emotional revelations in words that clarify each stream of consciousness, which feels as profoundly self-healing as is true of this train of intuitive thought to which you play witness, today. WHEW!
*At this moment, clarity suggests that today's stream of intuitive thought has been guiding me to say that on a daily basis, emergent strings of insight inspired my conscious mind to raise my trio of sons in such an open minded manner as to invite each one to place a high value upon working to heal injured parts of their psyches more readily than is true of the human species, which, generally, walks through life, blind to mental blocks, concerning raw wounds, festering, within subconscious pockets of our minds, and as mental blocks divide our minds into two separate parts, inner conflicts erupt, which is why inner peace gives way to anxiety whenever a personal decision to consider an unmet need differs from parental tapes that frown inside our heads, and once we can rewind play back the specific moment in time when a beloved parent's behavior declared us unworthy of love, we can stop sinning our wheels in a rut made of guilt that muddies up our sense of clarity, concerning common sense.
As soon as intuitive thought enlightens my conscious mind as to where to start the story that I've been longing to write, my storyteller/jockey will loosen its tight grip on the reins ... And as my stylus flies from letter to letter, all over my keyboard, all you'll need do to watch my past unfold before your eyes is to focus your attention on pictures, drawn with words, which are sure to appear, first on my screen and then on yours ... The question that my conscious mind is blocked from answering, as of yet, is: When?
*Hmmm ... Perhaps, the story won't unfold smoothly until insights, which are still flowing freely, have cleared certain rocks out of whatever has been damming up my stream of thought, for example: Do you know why a child's contradictive personality traits are formed by the age of five? By the age of five, each child has experienced the confounding nature of mimicking extreme emotional reactions (some warranted, some not) emoting from adult temper tantrums, which frighten the startle reflex, inherent within the nervous system of every newborn babe in arms ... Then, with the passage of time, if the starle reflex has been fearfully shocked into a suspended sense of emotional repression, everyone comes to expect this child's 'mask' of perfection as being real, through and through, while a sibling's defensive mask draws a frown on his or her face, and with time, these emotional patterns may seem to feel as though positive and negative character traits of each sibling are now and forever set in stone ... However, stone crumbles when defensive walls tumble down, and everyone is shocked to see a person's real life, multi-dimensional traits, including subconscious vulnerabilities, flying around ...
I'm here to say: Our traits are not set in stone ... Because ...
In its natural state, the thought processor of the human brain is capable of firing off insight, inspiring layers of defensive walls to melt down, thus expanding brain space to welcome and absorb change for the better, based in common sense, forever ...
When my dad said: I'm too old to change ...
My mom replied: Well, I'm not dead, yet!
Nuff food for thought, for today?
Not a chance, as long as intuitive thought is on a roll ...
Perhaps a small child, condemned to feeling extremely guilty, undeservedly, will grow up, turn a corner and bump into Socrates, whose spirit swooshes down, here and there, pointing the finger of fate at those who, for reasons, as yet unknown, harbor an intuitive need (as is true of one and all) to learn to work to heal themselves from emotional injury incurred during childhood ... And perhaps, intuition directs we fingered folks grow up to be teachers, psychologists or psychiatrists, fated to encourage others to quest toward healing, as well ... Or perhaps Socrates whispers words of wisdom into every ear, but some tune in early on while others have experienced reason to erect defensive walls made up of so many layers as to turn a deaf ear, forever ... So sad but true ...
I guess intuitive thought is suggestive of my asking which group best fits you ...
Wednesday, March 9, 2016
1349 STORY TELLER PUZZLED ABOUT CURRENT BOUT OF WRITER'S BLOCK ...
Hmmm ... I've been working on penning this post for days ... trying to figure out why mental resistance is blocking my story teller from coloring in the first story that my conscious mind longs to draw forth from my memory, concerning raising each of my sons to value the development of self disciplined thought patterns by watching me demonstrate that their mother had committed to developing the same. However, I've found that pressuring my memory to unlock before readiness is mine heightens frustration, and as frustration arouses my defense system to balk, thus stimulating mental tension to bulk up, I can understand why my thought processor's capacity to brainstorm with clarity, born of common sense, has clammed up, and resultant of this negative cycle, my bulked up sense of resistance continues to close the door on my story teller's natural sense of eagerness to write, leaving my intelligence faced with this choice: I can persist in pushing against my defense system, exacerbating this tightening of mental tension (which, narrows my thought processor's natural ability to relax and think expansively, resulting in blocking my intelligence from considering all options available to me—or I can choose to listen to common sense, cautioning my defense system to relax in order to free intuitive thought to release strings of insight, which, upon floating brightly through my subconscious filter (which transforms my Tunnel of Resistance into a Tunnel of Readiness), will direct my conscious mind to reconsider the possibility of heeding a courageous sense of self awareness that persists in suggesting that the time to embrace yet another personal growth spurt has been ripening on the vine for quite some time ...
Each time I muster the patience to offer intuitive thought time to percolate, while making its way through my Tunnel of Readiness, where insight (needing time to formulate into conscious thought), offers me a fresh perspective, my mental tension relaxes, naturally. And once tension relaxes, my thought processor has an open freeway upon which to send strings of insight, which having had time to filter through subconscious memory, offer my conscious mind reason to broaden and brighten its scope, concerning the absorption of deeper truth, floating freely to the surface of my awareness, thus inviting all of me to wholly embrace the readiness, necessary, to receive a clear view of yet another negatively focused, fear-based attitude, stored subconsciously, which had blocked my intelligence from ironing out a misperceived wrinkle, concerning my self image, which, having been lugged forward from childhood, till now, has had need of epiphany's bright flash of insight (concerning my character), to blow the lid off of the subconscious memory that had fueled dark clouds of confusion-creating tension to rain on my parade, overlong. Whew!
Each time a new stream of consciousness rolls out of my mind, this unfinished product resembles the pieces of a puzzle, poured out on the table, in need of methodical rearranging until a fully formed picture appears, which my mind can clearly, thus readily, absorb ... And that thought makes me conceive of how much time it takes for the formulation of insight to puzzle through piecing together 'forgotten' moments in memory by traveling past defensive resistance through my Tunnel of Readiness, this culminating in my conscious awareness formulating a picture, which my conscious mind had never seen with such clarity until my mental acuity, concerning emotional complexity, had developed ... Double whew!
*Perhaps, my resistance to readiness is awaiting the reveal of yet another childhood fear, secreted within my subconscious, blocking my intelligence from identifying a frustration that still clouds my thought processor's mental acuity, today. And as intuitive thought is expressing itself with clarity, right now, let's tap into insights, traveling in slo-mo through my Tunnel of Readiness, in hopes that by concentrating wholly upon exposing a deeper sene of subconscious truth to my conscious sense of self awareness, my story teller's mind/stylus connection will be enhanced ...
Uh wait—on second thought ... let's hold on for a minute, because the paragraph penned before this last one felt so deep as to make me suspect that, upon reviewing that train of thought, a whale of editing may prove necessary—perhaps, tomorrow ... or if tomorrow proves too busy (because I'll be enjoying Ravi), I'll backtrack sometime during the weekend, which, with house guests arriving on Friday, proves packed with fun, as well.
I'd edit, now, but for the fact that I can feel insights, leaping like jumping beans, insistent upon tumbling out of a pocket in my mind, suggesting that the iron is hot to straighten out more wrinkles, concerning my self perception, and as seeing into myself more clearly, today, than had been possible, yesterday, makes sense to me, I'll listen to intuitive thought directing my conscious mind to free my stylus to leap all over my keyboard, as if each insight, which leads to the next, is quacking away like a steady stream of ducks, lining up in a row, eager to cross to the other side of the street, where my growing sense of wholeness strengthens whenever a train of thought pulls into each next station where a greater sense of peace of mind (concerning Know Thyself) waits to welcome me to feel ever more at home ... with my self perception ...
So, let's set editing aside in favor of heeding readiness's intuitive need to release a fresh string of insights by offering my brain free rein to do whatever comes naturally while the iron is hot to trot, and hopefully, this next emergent string of insights, which is rousing my curiosity, will lead my storyteller's sense of readiness to experience natural childbirth—I mean natural storybirth (See what happens once coils of inner tension receive permission to relax? My natural sense of corniness pops out just like a Jack in the box ...
And as that's the case, I think it best to pull into the station and give my brain a rest ... as to insights popping, I'll be sure to make notes during the day, which is my way, anyway ...
Each time I muster the patience to offer intuitive thought time to percolate, while making its way through my Tunnel of Readiness, where insight (needing time to formulate into conscious thought), offers me a fresh perspective, my mental tension relaxes, naturally. And once tension relaxes, my thought processor has an open freeway upon which to send strings of insight, which having had time to filter through subconscious memory, offer my conscious mind reason to broaden and brighten its scope, concerning the absorption of deeper truth, floating freely to the surface of my awareness, thus inviting all of me to wholly embrace the readiness, necessary, to receive a clear view of yet another negatively focused, fear-based attitude, stored subconsciously, which had blocked my intelligence from ironing out a misperceived wrinkle, concerning my self image, which, having been lugged forward from childhood, till now, has had need of epiphany's bright flash of insight (concerning my character), to blow the lid off of the subconscious memory that had fueled dark clouds of confusion-creating tension to rain on my parade, overlong. Whew!
Each time a new stream of consciousness rolls out of my mind, this unfinished product resembles the pieces of a puzzle, poured out on the table, in need of methodical rearranging until a fully formed picture appears, which my mind can clearly, thus readily, absorb ... And that thought makes me conceive of how much time it takes for the formulation of insight to puzzle through piecing together 'forgotten' moments in memory by traveling past defensive resistance through my Tunnel of Readiness, this culminating in my conscious awareness formulating a picture, which my conscious mind had never seen with such clarity until my mental acuity, concerning emotional complexity, had developed ... Double whew!
*Perhaps, my resistance to readiness is awaiting the reveal of yet another childhood fear, secreted within my subconscious, blocking my intelligence from identifying a frustration that still clouds my thought processor's mental acuity, today. And as intuitive thought is expressing itself with clarity, right now, let's tap into insights, traveling in slo-mo through my Tunnel of Readiness, in hopes that by concentrating wholly upon exposing a deeper sene of subconscious truth to my conscious sense of self awareness, my story teller's mind/stylus connection will be enhanced ...
Uh wait—on second thought ... let's hold on for a minute, because the paragraph penned before this last one felt so deep as to make me suspect that, upon reviewing that train of thought, a whale of editing may prove necessary—perhaps, tomorrow ... or if tomorrow proves too busy (because I'll be enjoying Ravi), I'll backtrack sometime during the weekend, which, with house guests arriving on Friday, proves packed with fun, as well.
I'd edit, now, but for the fact that I can feel insights, leaping like jumping beans, insistent upon tumbling out of a pocket in my mind, suggesting that the iron is hot to straighten out more wrinkles, concerning my self perception, and as seeing into myself more clearly, today, than had been possible, yesterday, makes sense to me, I'll listen to intuitive thought directing my conscious mind to free my stylus to leap all over my keyboard, as if each insight, which leads to the next, is quacking away like a steady stream of ducks, lining up in a row, eager to cross to the other side of the street, where my growing sense of wholeness strengthens whenever a train of thought pulls into each next station where a greater sense of peace of mind (concerning Know Thyself) waits to welcome me to feel ever more at home ... with my self perception ...
So, let's set editing aside in favor of heeding readiness's intuitive need to release a fresh string of insights by offering my brain free rein to do whatever comes naturally while the iron is hot to trot, and hopefully, this next emergent string of insights, which is rousing my curiosity, will lead my storyteller's sense of readiness to experience natural childbirth—I mean natural storybirth (See what happens once coils of inner tension receive permission to relax? My natural sense of corniness pops out just like a Jack in the box ...
And as that's the case, I think it best to pull into the station and give my brain a rest ... as to insights popping, I'll be sure to make notes during the day, which is my way, anyway ...
Saturday, March 5, 2016
1348 YUP ...
Want to consider additional insights, concerning deepening your sense of intuitive thought, attempting to encourage your intelligence to awaken to the childhood fear that paralyzed a portion of your common sense?
Please review post 1347, yet again ...
Why?
Because, this morning, intuition convinced me to spent hours on revision, until finally, new strings of insight popped out of my mind as fresh and hot off the presses as popcorn popping, faster than kernels of puffed corn can be caught and popped into our ever hungry—minds...
And now, as David has returned from the gym, and Steven and Ravi just rang our bell, this lucky duck had best ready myself to cavort playfully at the park where 'kids', comprised of three generations, plan to laugh and romp freely through the playground on this sunny afternoon before we come home to freshen up in time to welcome friends for dinner (whose political views prove much more traditional than our own), where we'll all engage in a boisterous political debate, which never fails to spark gales of good natured laughter when David, the ultra-liberal Hollywood writer, faces off with our friend (whose large, shiny gold badge, issued by the county prosecutor's office, flashes out, impressively, each time he has reason to open his wallet) as both take turns slugging each other's views, concerning Democratic vs. Republican platforms, and if you ask how I know what to expect, I'd reply: That which each candidate chooses to say during pesidential debates rules most of our conversations, today. And if you know me, at all, you'll understand what makes me say that I can't believe our friend's intelligent mind will have a leg to stand on, considering that he can't possibly get out his soapbox to stump for Trump or Cruz without admitting to being off his rocker. As for now, time's a-wasting while fun at the park awaits our arrival, so I'll pull today's train of thought into the station with a boost from this caboose ...
If you choose to accept this mission of considering additional insights, concerning the leap of faith that's necessary to revive the intuitive portion of your common sense, which 'knows' the brass ring not beyond your reach, all you need do is unlatch the spring release behind which your repressed sense of joy is blocked by the defensive wall, which has blocked you from associating the childhood experience, which racked your mind with undeserved guilt that will continue to limit your ability to expand your comfort zone as long as this haunting sense of guilt is lugged forward, subconsciously, in its unexamined state, thus empowering feelings of unworthiness to resurrect anxious reactions, which arise whenever you consider making a decision that might elicit an angry frown on the face of the beloved, God-like adult, whose over-reactions had caused you to fear being unworthy of love when you were a vulnerable child of two, three, five or ... seven ...
Once the emergence of deeper truth clears outdated cobwebs of unsealed fear from your subconscious mindset, your conscious sense of self will no longer be blocked from gaining the clarity to see the really good, lovable person you've grown to be. And as tight coils of inner tension, which had shortened your mental leash, give way to emergent powers of intuitive thought, the brass ring will no longer seem just beyond reach, and hopefully, that change for the better will evolve, sometime soon, because life flashes by in two winks of the eye, so there's no time like the present to take that self confident leap of faith, which feels so ripe as to whet your appetite to taste the sweet fruit of freedom-from-guilt, which will be yours as soon as deeply repressed misperceptions, concerning your worthiness to befriend yourself, melt down, freeing you to pleasure your unmet needs before it's too late for your mind to remember the splendor in the grass that's yours for the taking each time common sense suggests expanding your out-dated comfort zone at least enough to liberate your ability to expand your choices once peace of mind offers your spirit sound reason to feel younger than spring time, again and again ...Whew! Some streams of consciousness go on and on without offering me time to catch my breath! And now that intuitive thought has pulled the caboose of today's string of insights into the station, tis off to the park we go, where the soaring nature of my spirit is sure to prove contagious!
Please review post 1347, yet again ...
Why?
Because, this morning, intuition convinced me to spent hours on revision, until finally, new strings of insight popped out of my mind as fresh and hot off the presses as popcorn popping, faster than kernels of puffed corn can be caught and popped into our ever hungry—minds...
And now, as David has returned from the gym, and Steven and Ravi just rang our bell, this lucky duck had best ready myself to cavort playfully at the park where 'kids', comprised of three generations, plan to laugh and romp freely through the playground on this sunny afternoon before we come home to freshen up in time to welcome friends for dinner (whose political views prove much more traditional than our own), where we'll all engage in a boisterous political debate, which never fails to spark gales of good natured laughter when David, the ultra-liberal Hollywood writer, faces off with our friend (whose large, shiny gold badge, issued by the county prosecutor's office, flashes out, impressively, each time he has reason to open his wallet) as both take turns slugging each other's views, concerning Democratic vs. Republican platforms, and if you ask how I know what to expect, I'd reply: That which each candidate chooses to say during pesidential debates rules most of our conversations, today. And if you know me, at all, you'll understand what makes me say that I can't believe our friend's intelligent mind will have a leg to stand on, considering that he can't possibly get out his soapbox to stump for Trump or Cruz without admitting to being off his rocker. As for now, time's a-wasting while fun at the park awaits our arrival, so I'll pull today's train of thought into the station with a boost from this caboose ...
If you choose to accept this mission of considering additional insights, concerning the leap of faith that's necessary to revive the intuitive portion of your common sense, which 'knows' the brass ring not beyond your reach, all you need do is unlatch the spring release behind which your repressed sense of joy is blocked by the defensive wall, which has blocked you from associating the childhood experience, which racked your mind with undeserved guilt that will continue to limit your ability to expand your comfort zone as long as this haunting sense of guilt is lugged forward, subconsciously, in its unexamined state, thus empowering feelings of unworthiness to resurrect anxious reactions, which arise whenever you consider making a decision that might elicit an angry frown on the face of the beloved, God-like adult, whose over-reactions had caused you to fear being unworthy of love when you were a vulnerable child of two, three, five or ... seven ...
Once the emergence of deeper truth clears outdated cobwebs of unsealed fear from your subconscious mindset, your conscious sense of self will no longer be blocked from gaining the clarity to see the really good, lovable person you've grown to be. And as tight coils of inner tension, which had shortened your mental leash, give way to emergent powers of intuitive thought, the brass ring will no longer seem just beyond reach, and hopefully, that change for the better will evolve, sometime soon, because life flashes by in two winks of the eye, so there's no time like the present to take that self confident leap of faith, which feels so ripe as to whet your appetite to taste the sweet fruit of freedom-from-guilt, which will be yours as soon as deeply repressed misperceptions, concerning your worthiness to befriend yourself, melt down, freeing you to pleasure your unmet needs before it's too late for your mind to remember the splendor in the grass that's yours for the taking each time common sense suggests expanding your out-dated comfort zone at least enough to liberate your ability to expand your choices once peace of mind offers your spirit sound reason to feel younger than spring time, again and again ...Whew! Some streams of consciousness go on and on without offering me time to catch my breath! And now that intuitive thought has pulled the caboose of today's string of insights into the station, tis off to the park we go, where the soaring nature of my spirit is sure to prove contagious!
I can't tell you how much I hope that my sense of readiness will open the album of snapshots in my mind before your frustration overwhelms your patience ... please believe me when I say that my conscious mind is biting at the bit to draw forth colorful stories, illustrating positive discipline techniques that inspired the creative center of my mind to invent five tools, which were employed by my intuitive powers whenever my sanity had need to encourage my sons to follow my lead; however, If you ask: Annie, what's blocking that album of snapshots to open, I'd have to reply: I have no clue—in fact, it's possible that my conscious mind is struggling with frustration, concerning my mental block than is true of you, suggesting my need to relax and replenish my patience, too ...
This self-awareness stuff never stops! Sigh ...
Wednesday, March 2, 2016
1347 THE MIRACULOUS EXPERIENCE OF NURTURING EACH BRAND NEW LIFE
Every wondrous experience that offers my spirit reason to soar makes such an indelible impression on my mind as to deem my memory capable of resurrecting that sense of pure joy as though each experience, which had thoroughly thrilled me, is happening, right now. Want an example? Okay ... let's buckle up and hold on tight, because once I throw the gear shift of my memory into reverse, we'll flash back to spring of 1968, when my spirit had reason to float on cloud 9, over a span of nine months (short of three weeks), and here's why that's true: I'd felt as though no woman before me had ever nurtured the precious gift of life, which had incredulously begun to develop from an egg and a sperm into a real live person within my womb.
As seeing is believing, my story teller plans to show you how often a positive approach to life offers my sense of wonderment free rein to burst into bloom each time my conscious awareness begins to sense a miraculous change for the better, shaping up deep within me or someone I love, and once this miraculous (step by step) change for the better has had time to ripen, everyone concerned reaps unexpected rewards ... I mean, let's face it ... you'd not relish eating an orange that's still tiny, hard to peel and green around the gills unless starvation has addled your mind, right!
I plan to show you what made me hold myself accountable for learning to do my best to raise a trio of precious babes to embrace a well rounded sense of self as each child grew toward manhood. In order to achieve this goal, each child was nourished with a balanced diet of roots and wings before I watched them fly off, one by one, into the world as a gift straight from my heart.
As to those last three weeks of my first pregnancy—severe back aches tempered the soaring nature of my spirit without dampening my incredulous sense of adventure for this reason: My sights remained focused on my just reward for having mustered the courage to bear excruciating pain until the miracle of a brand new life was cradled, safely, in my arms, at which time my natural sense of wonderment felt immeasurably enhanced, and every time I smiled down at each child, sleeping peacefully neath my protective wing, this mother hen 'knew' without a shadow of doubt, that my brand new role of motherhood filled my heart with contentment, born of familial love. I mean, seriously ... You've been getting a bird's eye view of thoughts streaming freely through the mind of a teacher who'd loved other people's children so much as to have deemed herself mother of the year before having raised even one child of her own.
All kidding aside, if I'd showered the children of others with oodles of love, just think of how much love would pour naturally from the well spring of my heart when those mini peeps, sheltered neath my wing, were my own! During that early time in my life, when I was still a beginner adult, I'd believed that love conquers all ... all by itself, but then, in defense of my naïveté, I'd no clue that just as "joy is an inside job", so is listening for intuitive thought coaxing your conscious mind to ready itself to take each next cautious step forward into the great unknown until your self confident voice, feeling strengthened by flashes of insight, brightens your spirit's way toward leaving dark visions of possible failure behind while shining a spotlight upon the leap of faith that proves necessary to throw off the dark cape of fear, born of undeserved guilt, thus re-energizing your voice to release every atom that deems you wholly (not to be confused with holier than thou) free to reap your just rewards for this reason: Your good natured patience has offered the olive sized orange time to develop into a juicy, suculent treat, suggesting that when you finally taste the fruit of your labor, your first bite is sure to be so sweet as to nourish healthy bonds amongst your heartmindbodyspiritconnection straight into your soul, where a wealth of intuitive knowledge, passed down through the ages (by way of DNA, safely encased within egg and sperm) has been encouraging your latent sense of anxious inner conflict, to melt away, and once tight springs of tension, which had tangled your roots, unwind, your wing will unfurl so naturally as to free you achieve a heartfelt goal, which, over your lifetime has been maddeningly, tantalizingly just beyond your reach ... And if you ask how I know this last string of insights is true, through and through, I'd reply, loud and clear ... HAVENT YOU BEEN LISTENING TO A WORD I'VE SAID? Perhaps you're in need of a transfusion of my DNA into wherever your defensive wall has layered up inside your head! Jeesh!
Many years before I became aware of how often intuitive thought had guided my conscious mind to take one unexpected step after another into unexplored territory, I, too, had no clue as to the frequency with which sparks of insight had cautioned the bright side of my mind to separate my light hearted path from those whose negatively focused, darkly colored thought patterns had differed from my own. And though reflection suggests that positive focus has been integral to my decision-making process at each stage of my life, I had no conscious clue of this next fact, until recently: Each time sparks of insight guided my path toward experiencing pain—which, generally, accompanies any change, which proves as monumental as laboring toward birthing a child—ultimately, every one of those growing pains culminated in change for the better, providing my pleasure center with reason to enjoy immeasurable sensations of joy. And with results proving as profoundly positive as that, I'd be nuts not to follow the arrows by which intuitive thought directs my conscious mind to look this way and that in hopes of learning this or that while carving my path, step by step, straight ahead in hopes that by some quirk of fat em which My awareness cannot fathom yet, one day, which has yet to dawn, my path will intersect with a sense of success that comes when opposing thought patterns find middle ground upon which conflicting views relax, at least enough for both to feel at home ...
Once reflection suggested that intuitive thought had encouraged my conscious mind to hold onto my courage each time my quest to create change for the better offered pain before gain, I came to realize this fact of life: Little by little, one mental breakthrough, leading, painfully toward the next, had need to tunnel through layers of subconscious denial before each mental breakthrough gained enough inner strength to reach through my defensive wall, thus shocking my conscious mind, which had repressed all knowledge of fearsome secrets that Mother Nature had thought best to place in a coma-like state until such time as my inner strengths outweighed the haunting sense of terror, which had recently been diagnosed as PTSD. I guess you could say that certain secrets, which I'd kept from myself had need to tunnel through my brain just as one by one, each brand new baby son had had need to tunnel through my birth canal until each fully formed, healthy child 'felt' lovingly held within the safe haven of my embrace, and fortunately, my power of intuition 'knew' without a doubt that each offspring and I had been blessed with the potential to co-create a loving friendship, (patterned after that which had been true of my parents and me). On the other hand, intuitive thought, concerning my need to work, instinctively, to repair the injured portion of my friendship with myself, remained subconsciously blocked from my conscious awareness for decades to come—Why? Because Mother Nature works in mysterious ways until an inquisitive mind sets out on a quest to know oneself in depth—Why? Because the unexamined life is blocked from experiencing degrees of personal growth, necessary to resolve inner conflicts, which otherwise defeat clear-headedness—repeatedly ... and though examining subconscious fears may prove painful, you can trust me when this voice of experience suggests that exorcizing repressed pain is worth gaining peace of mind, which unlocks the door behind which light hearted joy bursts forth, unburdened by undeserved guilt, at last.
What I'm saying is this: Once I'd firmly placed my faith in intuitive thought brightening my mind with insight, which continued to spotlight a path, paved with common sense, I experienced mental breakthroughs, which opened closed mindsets, based in fear of failure, and each time mind expansion was mine, I found my creative juices considering change for the better, which proved necessary each time fate offered my intelligence reason to re-examined a thinking pattern, which proved out of date, and therefore unhealthy to embrace as my own ... As each mental breakthrough came in the nick of time, another layer of defensive denial had sound reason to melt down, and though my psyche felt naked, while everyone else hid behind their persona's defensive masks, ultimately, my chosen path detoured round the necessity of recovering from the total mental breakdowns, suffered by those whose thinking patterns remain blind to insight, working tirelessly to brighten the mind to seek common sense while everyone else is running around like chickens without heads, so utterly immersed within the dark side of mental confusion as to feel too blinded by fear to see or hear that the guiding light of the force of insight beckons from within the most self confident portion of your brain and mine ...
As, EMDR therapy has recently offered me reason to pinpoint and reflect, meaningfully, over wounded aspects of my relationship with myself, I can see why intuitive thought had need to coach me to muster up whales of patience until my conscious mind had swallowed, digested and absorbed strings of insights, each of which had sparked the next, until the dark side of my mind brightened enough to fathom why my attention had focused, hyper-vigilantly upon raising my children to develop and believe in a host of personal strengths, which I'd had need to develop within myself. Lucky for me, I chose to parent with an open mind, focused upon my growing consciously skilled at role modeling a step-by-step approach to resolving long standing conflicts in knowledgable, compassionate ways in hopes of creating and enjoying a family environment in which every heart, mind and spirit felt so worthy of love as to grow toward adulthood, feeling personally respected and emotionally safe. In short, adult temper tantrums, which scare vulnerable young minds into submission—or else!—had been replaced with positive methods of discipline, which, employed with consistency, actually created change for the better, from our first open eyes, good morning smiles to our bathe, brush teeth, have a drink, flush the toilet, pull up PJ's, hop into bed, enjoy storytime and The Three-Minute-Miracle, hug, kiss and smile, good night! And as each child was blessed to feel nurtured as a valuable individual within a knowledgable, emotionally well-balanced environment, this trio grew to maturity, leaning naturally toward recreating the same sense of personal safety while nurturing children neath their wings, suggestive of the fact that apples do not fall far from the tree, which is why the fruit of our labor is flavored with this trait from one parent and that trait from the other ...
As to why siblings pick up opposite traits ... well, more about that curious phenomenon, offering food for thought, later ...
Though I'd no clue, fifty years ago, of how often positively focused, intuitive thought served as my ally, the teacher in me (whose sense of humor loves leading children to enjoy learning) was acutely aware of this fact: The most intelligent portion of my conscious mind remained open to seeking out leadership skills, and thank goodness for that, because once my first born miracle began to mimic parental authority, his reactions to my emotional reactiveness demonstrated this fact: By the age of two, Barry's bright, little mind had quickly absorbed the impactful power of standing his ground by staring straight into his opponent's eyes while replying (to my request that he do this or not do that) for all to hear: NO!
The reason we say ''out of the mouth of babes', is because pretense, which patterns into a persona, doth not yet exist. Whatever smallfry truly feel is said and shown—loudly, clearly, self assertively—unless our tantrums scare them out of their wits—at which time, layers of resentful rebellion begin to built up within the subconscious portion of our children's minds.
When Barry was a toddler, I'd never thought to become my child's primary opponent within the first two years of his life.
And I'd no clue of the fact that each time I observed my child's need to practice the natural formation of self assertive thought patterns (which proved independent of parental authority), Barry was making his way through a classic stage of child development in that he had need to voice his unique state of being for all to see and hear, just as Mother Nature had intended him to do ...
As for me, I had a thing or two to learn about taming my reactiveness while simultaneously working to channel my child's reactions to mimic my calm, solution-seeking attitude, which had need to master a whale of patience necessary to championing the concept of change for the better in the step-by-step manner, which proves classically true for all, who are blessed with raising children to grow up to become fast friends with siblings and parents as has proven true of our family, over these past 47 years, because each time naysayers believed our ship had sunk, our 'blendship' of teamwork, intuitive thought, and combined personal strengths encouraged our one for all and all for one attitudes to puzzle our way toward getting shipshape in the nick of time ... And it's my plan to show you how I learned to identify, acknowledge, and correct my own mistakes, story by story ...
Need I say, that watching my angelic, first born miracle transform into my worthy opponent within the short span of two years time came as shock to this teacher, who'd loved other people's children so much as to feel eager to nurture, enjoy and swing as high as a treetop with a sweet natured child of my own, laughing gaily, in my lap! And though Barry and I had enjoyed a wide variety of activities, countless times, if the truth be told, our frustration with each other's thought patterns clashed, like discordant cymbals, too often for my peace of mind ... And as I was the adult and my child was only two, guess which one had need to shore up on leadership skill???
Upon venturing forth with child in arms into the great unknown
I'd not expected our morning dressing routine to transform into round one ...
I'd not expected our play dates to turn me into referee as a pair of
Two fisted tykes, who'd balked at sharing anything, duked it out in round two
I did not expect my beautiful, blue eyed, dark haired son to enter the ring and
Clang the bell announcing the start of round three each time
His choices differed from my own ...
I did not expect to half lose my mind by lunch time—day after day—I mean ...
I was a teacher of children, who had shown respect for my authority ... RIGHT???
And to think that I'd thought to double our fun by choosing to become
Impregnated with Barry's little brother when our first born was sixteen months, so that
Nine months later the miracle of Steven's presence offered Barry reason to confront
Opponent number two, two weeks before big brother's second birthday, suggesting
My having been so naive as to have believed myself empowered to
Control two independent little minds just because
I'd deemed myself Group Leader in Charge Over All, as though
This pair of toddlers had contracted to cheerfully follow The Pied Piper's lead ...
HA! Fat chance of a wondrous miracle like that taking place for this parenting rookie, raising siblings ... until my open minded ear began to absorb a wealth of information, concerning positive motivation techniques, which an experienced coach had offered up for my consideration ...
Thank goodness, my unending quest to absorb (and impart) mutually respectful character traits directed my creativity to carve out a knowledgable path, upon which I gained insight, step by step, into coaching three independent, fertile minds to grow up to value, understand and absorb the mental processes, which prove necessary if each individual in a family is to feel every bit as supportively interconnected whenever life offers us reason to resolve conflicts as teammates with separate skills, and thus do we encourage each other to win at the game of life much more often than not ...
Upon reflection, forty-seven years after birthing my first born, deeper truth suggests that each time life has offered me an experience that feels miraculous, challenging, thrilling, disheartening or exceedingly painful, every atom, which makes up the sum of my whole, has learned to muster positive focus, patience and self control while my natural emotional reactions process through classic stages of change until all of me feels mentally readied, spiritually re-energized and emotionally fired up so as to ensure that no matter what fate offers up, next, my state of mind will remain focused on creating change for the better, and as seeing is believing and as my story teller feels ever more ready to show you how often this impassioned, knowledge-seeking reaction to life's pleasures and pains remains true of me, today ... I'd like to end this post by saying:
Tis true that "joy is an inside job", however
That's not to say that joy is not contagious, as well
And if a picture is worth a thousand words—
Then, here, once again, are several snapshots of
Every day family life, caught on camera
Illustrating spontaneous moments of joy, which
Each person in our family has been blessed to share
Over these last forty-seven years ...
(Need I say, moments of joy amongst siblings did not fill each hour of the day)
On the other hand, with compassionate leadership skills coaching all three
This trio of musketeers absorbed the art of resolving conflicts with
Positive focus intact, and as minds—taught to absorb similar patterns of thought
Tend to draw forth solution-seeking skills, which offer reason for
Conflict resolution to culminate in good humored smiles
You can see how often each spirit leaned naturally toward one another, each time
My camera encouraged three brothers' faces to express another shared moment of joy
If upon viewing the photo below
You'd like to ask: Where was Will?
I'll ask for your patience, because
Your curiosity is sure to be addressed when the story
Associated with this photo appears on your screen
Throughout the years, no matter where we were, three
Intelligent, well balanced guys felt at ease blowing off steam
Hanging together, or just clowning around, when they weren't
Intent on teasing each other, as siblings are known to do!
As these musketeers grew to manhood
It was clear to see that, each time good fortune
Smiled upon one, three hearts glowed with joy from the inside out
And thankfully, none has lost his natural ability to act silly in public
When it came time to expand our family
I lucked out, again, as gals began to equalize in number with guys
As stories unfold, you'll see how our family has continued to
Work patiently in hopes of expanding our numbers, joyfully, so as to
Feel assured that each heart, which is treasured by one of us
Feels embraced by all of us, thus ensuring that
No matter what tragic circumstance or unexpected surprise
Fate offers each of us to handle, no one's heart is left to
Fend on its own as long as our collective attitude remains ...
As we became blessed with the addition of little ones
Our family's joyful traditions continued to deepen beyond measure
Though many stories will offer you a bird's eye view of
Our family making its way through times of crises by way of
Shoring up personal strengths, no photos were taken to commemorate
The heartfelt pain, felt by one and all, so
Thank goodness, I'm drawn to paint pictures with words ... and
Now that this introductory pictorial, showing the joyous side of
Family life, has zipped forward through the first 49 years of
Raising our sons to evolve into each other's most supportive confidants and
Best friends, I'll end today's post with this photo of Will holding me while
I, cradling Ravi in my arms, can't help but feel wondrous while
Celebrating our 49th anniversary in March of 2015, suggesting that
Our fiftieth is fast approaching—I mean, can you imagine how
Incredulous it feels to be old enough to be married for fifty years while
I'm laughing and twirling, round and round, my living room, as is Ravi, who
As usual, can be seen mimicking everything I do, suggesting
My sweet-natured, bright eyed grand daughter was laughing while twirling, too ...
Had I been able to twirl and video, simultaneously, you'd see why it's true that
Though 71 years separates our ages, my spirit and Ravi's both share
Sound reason for feeling younger than springtime ... and
Now, that David's flown home and knowing that Steven and Ravi
Are due to ring our chimes, momentarily—hopefully ...
Before too long, we'll find time to jump into my time machine, buckle up
And zoom back to 1968, where we'll watch my twenty-five year old spirit
Feeling utterly incredulous of the fact that
The wondrous miracle of egg and sperm have combined to form
A brand new, human being, which was actually developing within
The expansive elasticity of my body, which (though
Our mindsets may fool us), always tells the truth, concerning
Whatever is processing through change—deep inside ...
As seeing is believing, my story teller plans to show you how often a positive approach to life offers my sense of wonderment free rein to burst into bloom each time my conscious awareness begins to sense a miraculous change for the better, shaping up deep within me or someone I love, and once this miraculous (step by step) change for the better has had time to ripen, everyone concerned reaps unexpected rewards ... I mean, let's face it ... you'd not relish eating an orange that's still tiny, hard to peel and green around the gills unless starvation has addled your mind, right!
I plan to show you what made me hold myself accountable for learning to do my best to raise a trio of precious babes to embrace a well rounded sense of self as each child grew toward manhood. In order to achieve this goal, each child was nourished with a balanced diet of roots and wings before I watched them fly off, one by one, into the world as a gift straight from my heart.
As to those last three weeks of my first pregnancy—severe back aches tempered the soaring nature of my spirit without dampening my incredulous sense of adventure for this reason: My sights remained focused on my just reward for having mustered the courage to bear excruciating pain until the miracle of a brand new life was cradled, safely, in my arms, at which time my natural sense of wonderment felt immeasurably enhanced, and every time I smiled down at each child, sleeping peacefully neath my protective wing, this mother hen 'knew' without a shadow of doubt, that my brand new role of motherhood filled my heart with contentment, born of familial love. I mean, seriously ... You've been getting a bird's eye view of thoughts streaming freely through the mind of a teacher who'd loved other people's children so much as to have deemed herself mother of the year before having raised even one child of her own.
All kidding aside, if I'd showered the children of others with oodles of love, just think of how much love would pour naturally from the well spring of my heart when those mini peeps, sheltered neath my wing, were my own! During that early time in my life, when I was still a beginner adult, I'd believed that love conquers all ... all by itself, but then, in defense of my naïveté, I'd no clue that just as "joy is an inside job", so is listening for intuitive thought coaxing your conscious mind to ready itself to take each next cautious step forward into the great unknown until your self confident voice, feeling strengthened by flashes of insight, brightens your spirit's way toward leaving dark visions of possible failure behind while shining a spotlight upon the leap of faith that proves necessary to throw off the dark cape of fear, born of undeserved guilt, thus re-energizing your voice to release every atom that deems you wholly (not to be confused with holier than thou) free to reap your just rewards for this reason: Your good natured patience has offered the olive sized orange time to develop into a juicy, suculent treat, suggesting that when you finally taste the fruit of your labor, your first bite is sure to be so sweet as to nourish healthy bonds amongst your heartmindbodyspiritconnection straight into your soul, where a wealth of intuitive knowledge, passed down through the ages (by way of DNA, safely encased within egg and sperm) has been encouraging your latent sense of anxious inner conflict, to melt away, and once tight springs of tension, which had tangled your roots, unwind, your wing will unfurl so naturally as to free you achieve a heartfelt goal, which, over your lifetime has been maddeningly, tantalizingly just beyond your reach ... And if you ask how I know this last string of insights is true, through and through, I'd reply, loud and clear ... HAVENT YOU BEEN LISTENING TO A WORD I'VE SAID? Perhaps you're in need of a transfusion of my DNA into wherever your defensive wall has layered up inside your head! Jeesh!
Many years before I became aware of how often intuitive thought had guided my conscious mind to take one unexpected step after another into unexplored territory, I, too, had no clue as to the frequency with which sparks of insight had cautioned the bright side of my mind to separate my light hearted path from those whose negatively focused, darkly colored thought patterns had differed from my own. And though reflection suggests that positive focus has been integral to my decision-making process at each stage of my life, I had no conscious clue of this next fact, until recently: Each time sparks of insight guided my path toward experiencing pain—which, generally, accompanies any change, which proves as monumental as laboring toward birthing a child—ultimately, every one of those growing pains culminated in change for the better, providing my pleasure center with reason to enjoy immeasurable sensations of joy. And with results proving as profoundly positive as that, I'd be nuts not to follow the arrows by which intuitive thought directs my conscious mind to look this way and that in hopes of learning this or that while carving my path, step by step, straight ahead in hopes that by some quirk of fat em which My awareness cannot fathom yet, one day, which has yet to dawn, my path will intersect with a sense of success that comes when opposing thought patterns find middle ground upon which conflicting views relax, at least enough for both to feel at home ...
Once reflection suggested that intuitive thought had encouraged my conscious mind to hold onto my courage each time my quest to create change for the better offered pain before gain, I came to realize this fact of life: Little by little, one mental breakthrough, leading, painfully toward the next, had need to tunnel through layers of subconscious denial before each mental breakthrough gained enough inner strength to reach through my defensive wall, thus shocking my conscious mind, which had repressed all knowledge of fearsome secrets that Mother Nature had thought best to place in a coma-like state until such time as my inner strengths outweighed the haunting sense of terror, which had recently been diagnosed as PTSD. I guess you could say that certain secrets, which I'd kept from myself had need to tunnel through my brain just as one by one, each brand new baby son had had need to tunnel through my birth canal until each fully formed, healthy child 'felt' lovingly held within the safe haven of my embrace, and fortunately, my power of intuition 'knew' without a doubt that each offspring and I had been blessed with the potential to co-create a loving friendship, (patterned after that which had been true of my parents and me). On the other hand, intuitive thought, concerning my need to work, instinctively, to repair the injured portion of my friendship with myself, remained subconsciously blocked from my conscious awareness for decades to come—Why? Because Mother Nature works in mysterious ways until an inquisitive mind sets out on a quest to know oneself in depth—Why? Because the unexamined life is blocked from experiencing degrees of personal growth, necessary to resolve inner conflicts, which otherwise defeat clear-headedness—repeatedly ... and though examining subconscious fears may prove painful, you can trust me when this voice of experience suggests that exorcizing repressed pain is worth gaining peace of mind, which unlocks the door behind which light hearted joy bursts forth, unburdened by undeserved guilt, at last.
What I'm saying is this: Once I'd firmly placed my faith in intuitive thought brightening my mind with insight, which continued to spotlight a path, paved with common sense, I experienced mental breakthroughs, which opened closed mindsets, based in fear of failure, and each time mind expansion was mine, I found my creative juices considering change for the better, which proved necessary each time fate offered my intelligence reason to re-examined a thinking pattern, which proved out of date, and therefore unhealthy to embrace as my own ... As each mental breakthrough came in the nick of time, another layer of defensive denial had sound reason to melt down, and though my psyche felt naked, while everyone else hid behind their persona's defensive masks, ultimately, my chosen path detoured round the necessity of recovering from the total mental breakdowns, suffered by those whose thinking patterns remain blind to insight, working tirelessly to brighten the mind to seek common sense while everyone else is running around like chickens without heads, so utterly immersed within the dark side of mental confusion as to feel too blinded by fear to see or hear that the guiding light of the force of insight beckons from within the most self confident portion of your brain and mine ...
As, EMDR therapy has recently offered me reason to pinpoint and reflect, meaningfully, over wounded aspects of my relationship with myself, I can see why intuitive thought had need to coach me to muster up whales of patience until my conscious mind had swallowed, digested and absorbed strings of insights, each of which had sparked the next, until the dark side of my mind brightened enough to fathom why my attention had focused, hyper-vigilantly upon raising my children to develop and believe in a host of personal strengths, which I'd had need to develop within myself. Lucky for me, I chose to parent with an open mind, focused upon my growing consciously skilled at role modeling a step-by-step approach to resolving long standing conflicts in knowledgable, compassionate ways in hopes of creating and enjoying a family environment in which every heart, mind and spirit felt so worthy of love as to grow toward adulthood, feeling personally respected and emotionally safe. In short, adult temper tantrums, which scare vulnerable young minds into submission—or else!—had been replaced with positive methods of discipline, which, employed with consistency, actually created change for the better, from our first open eyes, good morning smiles to our bathe, brush teeth, have a drink, flush the toilet, pull up PJ's, hop into bed, enjoy storytime and The Three-Minute-Miracle, hug, kiss and smile, good night! And as each child was blessed to feel nurtured as a valuable individual within a knowledgable, emotionally well-balanced environment, this trio grew to maturity, leaning naturally toward recreating the same sense of personal safety while nurturing children neath their wings, suggestive of the fact that apples do not fall far from the tree, which is why the fruit of our labor is flavored with this trait from one parent and that trait from the other ...
As to why siblings pick up opposite traits ... well, more about that curious phenomenon, offering food for thought, later ...
Though I'd no clue, fifty years ago, of how often positively focused, intuitive thought served as my ally, the teacher in me (whose sense of humor loves leading children to enjoy learning) was acutely aware of this fact: The most intelligent portion of my conscious mind remained open to seeking out leadership skills, and thank goodness for that, because once my first born miracle began to mimic parental authority, his reactions to my emotional reactiveness demonstrated this fact: By the age of two, Barry's bright, little mind had quickly absorbed the impactful power of standing his ground by staring straight into his opponent's eyes while replying (to my request that he do this or not do that) for all to hear: NO!
The reason we say ''out of the mouth of babes', is because pretense, which patterns into a persona, doth not yet exist. Whatever smallfry truly feel is said and shown—loudly, clearly, self assertively—unless our tantrums scare them out of their wits—at which time, layers of resentful rebellion begin to built up within the subconscious portion of our children's minds.
When Barry was a toddler, I'd never thought to become my child's primary opponent within the first two years of his life.
And I'd no clue of the fact that each time I observed my child's need to practice the natural formation of self assertive thought patterns (which proved independent of parental authority), Barry was making his way through a classic stage of child development in that he had need to voice his unique state of being for all to see and hear, just as Mother Nature had intended him to do ...
As for me, I had a thing or two to learn about taming my reactiveness while simultaneously working to channel my child's reactions to mimic my calm, solution-seeking attitude, which had need to master a whale of patience necessary to championing the concept of change for the better in the step-by-step manner, which proves classically true for all, who are blessed with raising children to grow up to become fast friends with siblings and parents as has proven true of our family, over these past 47 years, because each time naysayers believed our ship had sunk, our 'blendship' of teamwork, intuitive thought, and combined personal strengths encouraged our one for all and all for one attitudes to puzzle our way toward getting shipshape in the nick of time ... And it's my plan to show you how I learned to identify, acknowledge, and correct my own mistakes, story by story ...
Need I say, that watching my angelic, first born miracle transform into my worthy opponent within the short span of two years time came as shock to this teacher, who'd loved other people's children so much as to feel eager to nurture, enjoy and swing as high as a treetop with a sweet natured child of my own, laughing gaily, in my lap! And though Barry and I had enjoyed a wide variety of activities, countless times, if the truth be told, our frustration with each other's thought patterns clashed, like discordant cymbals, too often for my peace of mind ... And as I was the adult and my child was only two, guess which one had need to shore up on leadership skill???
Upon venturing forth with child in arms into the great unknown
I'd not expected our morning dressing routine to transform into round one ...
I'd not expected our play dates to turn me into referee as a pair of
Two fisted tykes, who'd balked at sharing anything, duked it out in round two
I did not expect my beautiful, blue eyed, dark haired son to enter the ring and
Clang the bell announcing the start of round three each time
His choices differed from my own ...
I did not expect to half lose my mind by lunch time—day after day—I mean ...
I was a teacher of children, who had shown respect for my authority ... RIGHT???
And to think that I'd thought to double our fun by choosing to become
Impregnated with Barry's little brother when our first born was sixteen months, so that
Nine months later the miracle of Steven's presence offered Barry reason to confront
Opponent number two, two weeks before big brother's second birthday, suggesting
My having been so naive as to have believed myself empowered to
Control two independent little minds just because
I'd deemed myself Group Leader in Charge Over All, as though
This pair of toddlers had contracted to cheerfully follow The Pied Piper's lead ...
HA! Fat chance of a wondrous miracle like that taking place for this parenting rookie, raising siblings ... until my open minded ear began to absorb a wealth of information, concerning positive motivation techniques, which an experienced coach had offered up for my consideration ...
Thank goodness, my unending quest to absorb (and impart) mutually respectful character traits directed my creativity to carve out a knowledgable path, upon which I gained insight, step by step, into coaching three independent, fertile minds to grow up to value, understand and absorb the mental processes, which prove necessary if each individual in a family is to feel every bit as supportively interconnected whenever life offers us reason to resolve conflicts as teammates with separate skills, and thus do we encourage each other to win at the game of life much more often than not ...
Upon reflection, forty-seven years after birthing my first born, deeper truth suggests that each time life has offered me an experience that feels miraculous, challenging, thrilling, disheartening or exceedingly painful, every atom, which makes up the sum of my whole, has learned to muster positive focus, patience and self control while my natural emotional reactions process through classic stages of change until all of me feels mentally readied, spiritually re-energized and emotionally fired up so as to ensure that no matter what fate offers up, next, my state of mind will remain focused on creating change for the better, and as seeing is believing and as my story teller feels ever more ready to show you how often this impassioned, knowledge-seeking reaction to life's pleasures and pains remains true of me, today ... I'd like to end this post by saying:
Tis true that "joy is an inside job", however
That's not to say that joy is not contagious, as well
And if a picture is worth a thousand words—
Then, here, once again, are several snapshots of
Every day family life, caught on camera
Illustrating spontaneous moments of joy, which
Each person in our family has been blessed to share
Over these last forty-seven years ...
(Need I say, moments of joy amongst siblings did not fill each hour of the day)
On the other hand, with compassionate leadership skills coaching all three
This trio of musketeers absorbed the art of resolving conflicts with
Positive focus intact, and as minds—taught to absorb similar patterns of thought
Tend to draw forth solution-seeking skills, which offer reason for
Conflict resolution to culminate in good humored smiles
You can see how often each spirit leaned naturally toward one another, each time
My camera encouraged three brothers' faces to express another shared moment of joy
If upon viewing the photo below
You'd like to ask: Where was Will?
I'll ask for your patience, because
Your curiosity is sure to be addressed when the story
Associated with this photo appears on your screen
Throughout the years, no matter where we were, three
Intelligent, well balanced guys felt at ease blowing off steam
Hanging together, or just clowning around, when they weren't
Intent on teasing each other, as siblings are known to do!
As these musketeers grew to manhood
It was clear to see that, each time good fortune
Smiled upon one, three hearts glowed with joy from the inside out
And thankfully, none has lost his natural ability to act silly in public
When it came time to expand our family
I lucked out, again, as gals began to equalize in number with guys
As stories unfold, you'll see how our family has continued to
Work patiently in hopes of expanding our numbers, joyfully, so as to
Feel assured that each heart, which is treasured by one of us
Feels embraced by all of us, thus ensuring that
No matter what tragic circumstance or unexpected surprise
Fate offers each of us to handle, no one's heart is left to
Fend on its own as long as our collective attitude remains ...
One for all and all for one ...
As we became blessed with the addition of little ones
Our family's joyful traditions continued to deepen beyond measure
Though many stories will offer you a bird's eye view of
Our family making its way through times of crises by way of
Shoring up personal strengths, no photos were taken to commemorate
The heartfelt pain, felt by one and all, so
Thank goodness, I'm drawn to paint pictures with words ... and
Now that this introductory pictorial, showing the joyous side of
Family life, has zipped forward through the first 49 years of
Raising our sons to evolve into each other's most supportive confidants and
Best friends, I'll end today's post with this photo of Will holding me while
I, cradling Ravi in my arms, can't help but feel wondrous while
Celebrating our 49th anniversary in March of 2015, suggesting that
Our fiftieth is fast approaching—I mean, can you imagine how
Incredulous it feels to be old enough to be married for fifty years while
I'm laughing and twirling, round and round, my living room, as is Ravi, who
As usual, can be seen mimicking everything I do, suggesting
My sweet-natured, bright eyed grand daughter was laughing while twirling, too ...
Had I been able to twirl and video, simultaneously, you'd see why it's true that
Though 71 years separates our ages, my spirit and Ravi's both share
Sound reason for feeling younger than springtime ... and
Now, that David's flown home and knowing that Steven and Ravi
Are due to ring our chimes, momentarily—hopefully ...
Before too long, we'll find time to jump into my time machine, buckle up
And zoom back to 1968, where we'll watch my twenty-five year old spirit
Feeling utterly incredulous of the fact that
The wondrous miracle of egg and sperm have combined to form
A brand new, human being, which was actually developing within
The expansive elasticity of my body, which (though
Our mindsets may fool us), always tells the truth, concerning
Whatever is processing through change—deep inside ...
Tuesday, March 1, 2016
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