ON THIRD THOUGHT—😊

 With appreciation for

Your patience—

I believe you’ll agree that

Having made

Changes for

Clarity’s sake

My post, published on

 Thursday, March 10, 2022 is

Ready for final review

Please and thank you

🙋🏻‍♀️Annie

ON SECOND THOUGHT—

Plain and simple—

I believe you’ll agree that

Having made insight-driven

Changes for the better

My last post begs review

Please and thank you

🙋🏻‍♀️Annie

PS

Whoops, upon review, yet again

My editing of the last post

Published before this one has

Serious need of

Re-editing

Suggesting why

I hope

You’ll hold off on

Reassessing 

That train of thought

Until tomorrow

Please and thank you

Again

PEACE AND QUIET WILL BE MINE

 Ever since my dad’s death

I imagine his face

Filling the expanse of

The clear blue sky above

My mountain (both of which

My Dad’s spirit had loved)

And with my face upturned

Gazing across the azure sky

I see my dad’s heartfelt smile

Beaming straight down at me

Stimulating my spirit to smile

Bright as a sunbeam, right back at his

If only I could delete memories

Of my mom’s sad eyed facial expression

Focusing upon me while asking

Where’s my little Annie?

As had happened after

My dad’s death then

Peace of mind

Would be mine each time

My imagination draws

My mother’s face

Smiling instead of

Frowning wistfully or

Angrily at me throughout

More than the last decade of

Her life at which time

Her persona denied

The painful depths of sadness

She’d carried forward

Within her heart whenever

She and the warmth of her smile

Made a public appearance of

Emotional strength while

Privately, she’d reveal

The lasting reality of

Her grief and guilt

Repeatedly

To me so that

My over-active

Personal trait of empathy

Could not

Differentiate between

Her pain and mine

And like most of us

(Inclusive of me)

Who have no clue when

When our personas emerge

My beloved mother believed that

Her social persona had been

True straight into her core until

Eternal peace was

Her final reward once

She was laid to rest

Next to her adoring husband—

A well matched pair of

Lives well lived

And today

Eight years later

Here we be, you and I

Watching the intuitive portion of

My think tank working to

Conjure up a creative way to

Revitalize the loving smile

On my mother’s face that had

So naturally drawn forth

My own until an invisible shift

In our tender relationship

Saw each of us

Drift blindly toward

The painfully instinctive rift, which

Had stymied both of our minds

During the aftermath of

My dad’s death, twenty years ago—

And so, today—

Knowing full well

How peaceful

My heart, mind and spirit

Long to feel when

Conjuring up

The precious smile of

My beloved mother

Within the conscious

Portion of my mind

My innate power of

Intuitive thought has

Laid out

These puzzle pieces

So that we can see

How the imaginative

Portion of my brain

May partner up with

My intelligence until

Each of these

Puzzle pieces

Slides so naturally

Together that

The conscious portion of 

My memory feels enticed to

Create a bridge over

The cavern of

Enmeshed sadness

Within which

 my mother and I had

Remained stuck until

Today’s healthy shift

Concerning

An attitudinal change for

The better stirred

My conscious awareness

To bridge

The gap between

The years following

Dad’s death

And all of those that

Had come before, thus

Reconnecting

My processor’s

Heartfelt

Creative capacity to

Revitalize

The loving friendship

Enjoyed so naturally for

Sixty years by

Both Mom and me—

Because, time and again

You and I

Have learned that

Attitude is everything

(And since the same is

True of readiness and

Timing when

Change is the name of the game

We’ll also consider

The most puzzling aspects of

Love and life by adding

The subconscious nature of

Unrealistic expectations into the mix

Aha!  With all of this subterfuge 

Swirling around within

The submarine of

My subconscious

Is it any wonder why

Peace and quiet

Have not been mine since

The uprising of

My intuitive periscope spied

Unresolved angst churning

(Behind my persona)

Turning my brain into

A mixmaster, switched on to high

On the eighth anniversary of

My mother’s death, suggests that

The intuitive emergence of

Underlying emotional turmoil

Secreted within the depths of

My brain has made

Mincemeat of

My original perception of

Having harbored a sense of

Tepid introspection on

The eighth anniversary of

My precious mother’s death, and

Now—Having shared

These moments of

Insight-driven

Depth perception with you

My intuitive intelligence asks

You to contemplate

The existence of

Mind blowing secrets that

Your defense system

Will continue to hide within

Mental blocks from

The conscious portion of

Your mind until—

One day—

A courageous sense of

Readiness to openly confront

Deeper truth (concerning

Your childhood) emerges

At which time

The truth will set you free of

Undeserved guilt

Carried forth from your

Earliest years of life as

Had been true of me

🙋🏻‍♀️Annie 

IN THE ABSENCE OF PEACE AND QUIET

 “No creative work, it seems to me, can be accomplished unless people sometimes have quiet and peace around them … ”—Eleanor Roosevelt

Peace and quiet

Have not been mine

Inside my head

For the past several days

As yesterday was

The (eighth) anniversary of

My beloved mother’s death

(At the age of 100)

And as you shall see in

A story down the road

My heartfelt friendship

With my mother

Began to Unravel

Bewildering

Both of us

Ever so sadly in

Ways that had devastated

Mother and daughter after

The sudden death of

My beloved father saw

 His adored wife

Understandably

Too grief struck to

Fend for herself

For the first time

In her entire life

At the vulnerable age of 87

And so, over

The first two years of

My precious mother’s

Widowhood

I was with her—

Every day

Calling her

Our family treasure—

Suggesting that

In real time

Mom and I

Had had no clue

As to how or when

Spontaneous eruptions of

Subconscious insecurities

Which can injure

Loving relationships beyond

Repair, arose, separating us

Unconsciously into

Opposing camps, which

Pained both her heart and

Mine ever so deeply as

The personal perceptions of

Both individuals remained

In the dark, ignorant of

Identifying with

The hungry mind’s

Existential need to

Experience

Emotional growth spurts

At every stage of life

And only if 

The difference between

A close friendship

And emotional enmeshment

Is understood

And mutually recognized

As being excessively unhealthy

While both individuals are

Still alive, that’s when

A heartfelt relationship

Can begin to heal for real

👩🏻Annie

1958 HIGH SCHOOL FRESHMAN Part 4

To this day, I’ve no actual memory as to how my name had been brought to the attention of the social club, whose membership had voted to include me within the inner sanctum of their teenaged lives.  As Debbie was in the club, I surmise that my sweet new friend had introduced my name to the charter members.

All I know for certain is that my utterly unexpected inclusion within this select group of girls whisked me off of the deserted island (upon which I’d been cast and abandoned at the vulnerable age of twelve following the disastrous experience of my first kiss in 6th grade), and thus, having been spun from social isolation into the midst of a bevy of girlfriends, did I land—feeling flummoxed beyond belief—on my feet with my monthly calendar filled with social activities that would stimulate the spirit of any fourteen year old former wall flower to sport a perpetually surprised smile based upon wondering how I’d been so fortunate as to have been amongst those chosen, considering that my freshman class had been composed of more than 900 kids, many of whom had likely been as socially clueless, during our first year of high school, as had been true of me  ... and yet, having been amongst those selected while my home life continued to be lovingly stable offered me reason to accept this literally overnight change for the better, so that anyone looking at the surface of both sides of my life would have thought that social security must have been mine since emotional mine fields, laced with traumatized insecurities, could not be seen awaiting a hair trigger eruption, deep within my psyche ...

👩🏻Annie

1958 HIGH SCHOOL FRESHMAN Part 3 A NEW BEGINNING

Thank goodness, we carry all of our prior experiences forward, filed deep within our minds, because the composite collage made up of your memories or mine, both good and bad, positive and negative, offer each of us an experiential sense of balance in all things.

On second thought, the statement above does not take into account the unpredictability of memory or the lasting effect of PTSD on the damaged psyches of children who’d been forced to weather traumatic downpours of verbal or physical or sexual abuse, examples of which had appeared in earlier posts and will re-emerge in later posts, whereas today, my intuitive voice is determined to focus on the influencing factor of friendships made, during high school, since routinely, one friendship leads to more just as my newfound friendship with Debbie will have opened a door to a ready-made social life (as mentioned in a previous post).

I have no conscious memory of having been invited to meet with the charter members of this social club composed entirely of freshmen girls.  Having been designated an outlier throughout my lonely preteen years, reflection suggests that during that crucial stage of social development, mine would have been delayed to the point that my unexpected inclusion within this popular group had thoroughly dizzied my mind.  You see, our freshman class had been made up of hundreds of kids; yet only two girls’ social clubs had come to be, and the fact that I’d been amongst the twenty or so ‘chosen’ to be included within one of two highly select social circles made NO sense, at all, to me …

(Note of caution from writer to reader—upon review, the complexity of thought within these next two paragraphs may be in need of editing for the sake of clarity once my wearied mind has rested.)

Since I’d had no conscious clue of the underlying reason why my cheerful, out-going presence had been purposely ignored whenever party invitations had been mailed to a select group of my classmates (whom I’d longed to befriend me, throughout junior high), my natural bent toward leadership withdrew in favor of having unconsciously embraced the role (foreign to my nature) of follower in hopes of doing whatever it took to ensure that this brand new fragile bubble in which ‘I’d found myself’ surrounded by a set of popular freshman girlfriends, would not pop.

You see, insight—spotlighting the fact that (rather than ‘finding myself’) I’d ‘lost my true sense of self’ in order to ‘fit in’—had escaped my awareness until I’d turned fifty at which time while writing the string of posts, entitled First Kiss, a heart-stopping Aha! moment dawned on me, expanding my subjective (narrow minded) perception of what had actually caused a personable child, like me, to have been cast to the wayside—and that insight proved so utterly flabbergasting as to have left my mind reeling as happens whenever a sudden flash of objectivity illuminates a burst of mental clarity that feels so enlightening as to have reversed everything I had believed to be on target concerning the mind boggling social rejection that had offered my budding self esteem sound reason to shrink up at the tender age of eleven.  And as soon as that spotlight of insight had brightened my sense of self awareness, I came to understand the deeply painful misunderstanding that had wounded a popular sixth grade boy, who’d retaliated by furiously wielding his social power amongst our peers to exile me …

👩🏻Annie   

1958 HIGH SCHOOL FRESHMAN Part 2

The beauty of intuitive thought is the fact that while penning a post, my conscious mind feels completely at ease knowing full well that as soon as my power of intuition claims control over my processor, strings of inter-related insights concerning love and life will line up on my screen as naturally as ducklings, following the instinctive guidance of their mother, line up all in a row.  And since my intuitive voice has already brought up the subject of ‘love’, let’s be clear that I’m not talking love of baseball.  Or ice cream.  I’m talking two hearts harmonizing so as to make a beautiful symphony  of life—together …

When considering a love connection between two people, it’s been my good fortune, over my lifetime, to have offered and received a variety of heartfelt experiences.

An impassioned, lustful heartfelt love connecting two people, both emotionally, physically, spiritually and soulfully is commonly known as ‘in love’.(not to be confused with ‘in lust’).

An impassioned sense of tender love commonly connects the hearts of parent and child.

A mutual awareness of heartfelt simpatico connects two people as loving friends

As a loving friend is what my heart had longed for throughout all four lonely years preceding my first day in high school, my smile responded ever so naturally and thus openly to the shy yet sweet smile that Debbie had freely offered to me as if ‘friendship at first sight’ had welcomed both of our hearts to connect with the reality that it’s possible to feel emotionally safe with a person we’ve just met.

Though I can’t recall who spoke first, I remember feeling happy that such a friendly person, whose brown eyes had shone with kindness, had chosen the first seat in her row as had been true of my choice in the first seat of the row next to Debbie’s.  The row had chosen was right next to the window, because that was the only row which had offered an empty desk at the head of our first period classroom.

Upon reflection concerning my bewildered sense of loneliness throughout junior high, I can see why choosing a place of emotional comfort for myself as close to the teacher as possible had become a habit as the nearness of an adult in charge of a classroom filled with children, several of whom could become unruly within an instance, had offered my beleaguered state of mind a sense of emotional distance from fear of being bullied or, even worse, ‘left out’ in a school where I’d not connected with a child whose offer of friendship could be called heartfelt.

And so friendships based in trust, which I’d craved more than anything, had been missing from my life ever since my family had made our epic move from urban apartment living to ownership of our newly built suburban home, though the change from city to suburb would have been seamless for me had my social standing (and self esteem) not experienced two sound reasons (both beyond my youthful comprehension) to have plummeted from class leader at my old school to social outcast at the highly vulnerable age of eleven when working one’s way into preordained preteen ‘clicks’ demands a self confident mindset to this very day.

If you’re amongst those who’ve read the series of posts entitled First Kiss, published in my blog, several years back, then you may remember that upon transferring to my new school, I’d not felt at all challenged while walking into my new classroom, mid year.  In fact, so high had my social self-confidence been that I remember smiling as my new fifth grade teacher pointed to an empty desk after having introduced me to my classmates.  And having quickly settled myself in place, I remember glancing round the classroom as though to choose which girl would have eagerly become my new best friend and which boy would have caught my eye …

The fact that within a few months time fate will have dealt me two personally threatening, deeply alarming experiences (neither of which could have been foreseen by this preteen) will have offered sound reason for my self confident self image to have shattered, as though fate had flung a mirror at my face, leaving me covered with sharply poignant shards that had stabbed both my brain and my heart—and that brief (undetailed) synopsis of unexpected trauma experienced in junior high makes it plain to see why, having been banished by ‘the popular kids’ and tormented by bullies, Debbie’s gift of friendship during my very first hour of high school, offered my lonely heart a loving place to feel as safe and sound as had been true on my very first self confident day in kindergarten and beyond until my family’s dream of suburban living had proved to be a series of nightmares for utterly unprepared me, suggestive of the fact that insight continues to guide me to live as mindful of the role self awareness plays if personal growth is a high priority in hopes of gaining a knowledgable perspective  of inner strengths, since we cannot know for certain what each next moment will bring … 

And as you are about to see why my memory of meeting Debbie, my very first new friend in high school, remains as vividly heartfelt, today, as was true more than sixty years ago when this brand new friendship served as a warm spiritual connection to a social life filled with bewildering changes, yet again …

🙋🏻‍♀️😊Annie