480 INTRODUCING THE NEXT QUARTET OF STORIES ...

Aha!  I know which stories to tell you, next.
A trio of stories comes to mind, concerning those times when my need to protect the downtrodden aroused compassion, which fueled my courage to stop bullying in its tracks—as long as the bullying was not directed at me:

LOCKED IN THE CLOSET (I am nine, still living in the apartment.)
MONKEY FACE  (I am ten, still living in the apartment.)
BIG BOOBS  (I am twelve, and we've moved to the suburbs.)

Then, as insights don't come in ABC order, I'll take you toward a story that made me see red when I was eleven and too young to fathom why my popularity had shrunk up after our family moved from our third floor city dwelling into Dad's suburban dream house:

THE APPLE OF MY EYE  (I am eleven.)

Hmmm—if we were drawing up a table of contents, here is the story lineup thus far:

BULLY FOR ME
FIRST KISS
TWINKLE TWINKLE LITTLE STAR
NO! NO! NOT AGAIN!!


To be followed by:

LOCKED IN THE CLOSET

MONKEY FACE

BIG BOOBS

THE APPLE OF MY EYE

I've spent the past several days editing, rewording, rethinking and rewriting:
Post 479 PIECING TOGETHER THE BIGGER PICTURE OF ME
So, my mind feels pretty tired, today.

Therefore, I think it best to stop writing and give my thought processor a rest until tomorrow.
Hope to see you, then.
Your friend, Annie

PS  I'd originally conceived of this blog as being a story book.
Won't it be interesting if a four-story pattern is beginning to shape up?
For example, it took four stories for me to clarify this fact—for myself:

Following my baby sister's tragic death, my need to protect the downtrodden aroused my sense of universal compassion, which fueled my courage to stop negativity in its tracks—as long as that negativity was not directed at me!

479 WORKING TO PIECE TOGETHER BOTH SIDES OF— ME

Upon reflection, the first four stories in my blog begin to assemble pieces of the puzzle as to why I chose to marry the man who became my husband.  As to why Will chose to marry me—well— that question will be addressed in stories to come ...


If you are curious as to what caused our love to wain in the aftermath of our joyous wedding day ... well ... lots of stories need be told before I can show you the classic ways in which love and friendship come undone.


For most of my life, I was unaware as to which experiences had cast chunks of my self esteem into a deep freeze when I was a child.  For example, I'd considered my sister's death as my mom's trauma, not mine.  (as in TWINKLE TWINKLE LITTLE STAR)


With no clue that the terrifying circumstances surrounding my sister's death had cast a subconscious sleeping spell over a slice of my self-assurance, I was not aware of the fact that the sassy side of my voice had shrunk up from disuse when I was three.  (When mentioning the sassy side of my voice, I'm referring to that portion of my voice with which I'd once felt naturally free to sass back at an Alpha male authority figure, like my Uncle Jeff)  Having had no clue that my sense of personal safety had flash frozen in fear, my self assertiveness withdrew and my behavior grew tame whenever so much as a hint of conflict drew near.  As my defense system had numbed my sense of mental irritation, thus ensuring that I'd not rock anyone's boat, I'd hear myself say yes when I meant no ... and ... no when yes would have met my needs.


As personality patterns shape up between birth and five, tension caused me to capitulate to the needs of others as fast as I could please.  With this piece of knowledge in mind, it's easy to see why I'd developed into a world class pleaser before I'd had a clue of what it might feel like to express myself openly.


If asked to define a world class pleaser, I'd say:  A world class pleaser has no conscious awareness of those times when personal needs are swept into the needy side of the mind in order to meet the needs of others.


The needier we grow, the harder the persona must work to contain a storehouse of TNT tucked deep within subconscious pockets of the mind.  You know, what I mean—the more layered the persona, the more likely we are to blow hot winded oxygen on fire.  When inner conflict remains unresolved between two people,  the false fronts of two pleasing personas can't help but explode, just like two drivers, who, blinded by smoke, smash head on while pulling tankers filled with oil straight through the center of a raging forest fire.  


As a world class pleaser, I'd no awareness of welcoming others to 'use me' to satisfy their needs.  Since my fear of conflict had been subconsciously blocked at such a tender age, it never occurred to me that at the first sign of tension, anxiety silenced anger from arising within me.


Due to my need to rid myself of anxiety, my defense system conditioned my needs to 'cave in', and after pleasing the needs of others I'd feel relieved.  At least that's what one would assume.  In truth, as subconscious frustration piled up behind my persona, a deeper problem developed.  *If I could not identify, expose or discuss my unmet needs, if I could not feel frustration building then how could I develop a sense of self trust?  In short, I did not know myself.


If asked to define this deeper problem as I see it, today, I'd say:  Each time fear cuts off healthy doses of anger at the pass, subconscious frustration wells up, deep inside.  As it's impossible to solve problems effectively until each problem is named, we wander ever more deeply into mind mazes that do not make sense—until such time that courage dives into memory banks in hopes of retrieving and reconnecting forgotten and thus disjointed pieces of the puzzle in such a logical manner as to complete bigger pictures, which show both sides of the mind of the adult, whom the child has grown to be.  In this way do we come to see our vulnerabilities and strengths.


Now that I can name the specific fear, which had tamed my frustration, thus forcing me to swallow anger, quelling anxiety is a whole different thing.  Why?  It's impossible to catch the ghost of an animal that we can't see, hear or name.  In short, I had no clue that, over time, any hint of CONFLICT scared my intelligence silly.


As life without conflict does not exist, it became necessary to muster the courage to exhume mental torments, which Mother Nature had seen fit to bury in an unprocessed state when my mind was too young to piece together puzzles, which devil family life in classic ways in homes where trauma doth not exist.  In short each person has experienced reason to harbor different fears.


In order to chase ghosts away, which had haunted my mind subconsciously, and regain peace of mind puzzling pieces of family life were in need of reassembling.  As bigger pictures emerged, I grew apt at clarifying the reason that my fears, which seems nonsensical to others, in truth, had been based in common sense. 


*It's important to note that as world class pleasers are numb to their need to vaporize conflict, frustration and anger, we are not easily provoked.  And as Mother Nature blocks a child's subconscious fear of conflict for sound reason, it's just as important to note that I've yet to reveal the story that exposes my reason for fearing conflict to the point of snuffing my needs.  When this story pops up on your screen, you'll see why it's not unusual for World Class Pleasers to develop into astute observers and patient listeners, as did I—until such time as the needs of others pushed me so far over the edge that hot spots of pressurized anger finally shot through my persona as shockingly as though I'd been a tightly coiled Jack-in-the-box, who upon springing free, had developed the ability to think out of the box, at long last.



As long as my wall of denial directed my conscious awareness to focus upon compassion for the pain of others, my spirit was blind to this fact:  I'd been skating on thin ice until inner conflict loomed so large that my persona cracked.  At this point in time my well of frustration began to overflow.  Next thing I knew my peace of mind was drowning in such a deep state of depression that my spirit felt desperate enough to awaken my voice.


As countless pleas for SOS were dismissed or ignored, my growing sense of frustration felt forced to face this choice:  Sink in silent resignation, scream aloud or learn to reset my inner compass and swim toward unknown shores.  As depression had served up a stew made up of exhaustion, sadness, confusion and anger-turned-in, I found myself in need of astute guidance.  And thus did I make my way toward trusting myself to know both sides of my traits—through and through.  Why?  Because, each time I'd calmly voiced my need for rest or help or both, that which I'd heard in return made no sense, at all.


With time I came to see that those who fear 'looking in' blame their pain on whomsoever refuses to meet their needs.  If asked, Annie what makes you say that, I'd reply ... here's an example of the nonsense mentioned above:


After years of making good use of a wide range of problem solving tools, the life raft I'd worked tirelessly to hold us afloat, for years, kept springing leaks and when I finally took refuge from my pain by diving into the deep, here is what I heard from those who'd been handed the oars:
Annie is an all or nothing person. 

In truth, Annie had been the kind of person who'd given her all until there was nothing left of her ... and rather than hearing words of appreciation, she was told that the guidance she'd sought had made her selfish rather than self aware ...


You see, when others get used to generosity of spirit giving of oneself while asking little in return that's what they unconsciously come to expect of you—no matter what.  Then when fate blows necessary change into the air and the tables turn—well, my friends—that's when sparks of tension electrify the air ...


Thank goodness, those who'd taken the time to know me truly, through and through, threw me a life line, seconds before my spirit went down for the last time.  In the aftermath of a learning experience as despiriting as that, I began to examine my definition of friendship, trust and life rafts more deeply than before.  On the up side, I became aware of those who'd earned my trust during times of conflict vs. those who'd only heard themselves.  Ultimately and most important of all, I came to know, appreciate and trust—the intelligent, self-motivated, solution seeking side of my mind.


Though glad to see that my most consistent, personal trait had embraced positive focus, I came to see the need to re-evaluate all of my traits in terms of reality.  With time I was able to separate positively focused problem solving methods from the hocus-pocus that made me believe skillful communications would heal the pain of those I'd loved.  Whenever love's magic spell empowers me to try try again, I remember my near drowning experience and quiet my desire to heal pain, hidden behind the polished layers of loved ones' translucent veneers.  Unfortunately, when it comes to life rafts, we must each develop the inner strengths necessary to build our own.  And thus, do I believe in sharing life-raft-building tools.


In short, give yourself away for free if you must ... but don't expect those, who've grown accustomed to being on the receiving end to throw you a life raft once you patiently, calmly and compassionately make good use of your voice to clarify the fact that your needs are clashing seriously with theirs.


In lieu of opening their ears to my plea for change, my ears hurt from hearing:  "But what about my needs—in tones that expressed the suggestion that their comfort zones took precedence over mine.


Once I'd reached that distant shore I took time out on Walden Pond to hunt down forgotten puzzle pieces.  And low and behold as bigger pictures appeared in 3D, confusion was swapped for clarity—BIGTIME!  Unfortunately clarity doth not culminate in conflict resolution until both sides muster the courage and humility to dive into the deep in hopes of discovering that which catalyzed a loving friendship to sink.


Upon reflection, I had reason to increase my knowledge, concerning the contradictory and thus, complex functions of the human brain.  When every attempt to share my expanding points of view bounced off off closed mindsets, I chose not to go crazy.


Instead, I chose to view my brain as a complex instrument, which provides me with a wide variety of conscious choices.  As with all complex instruments, my brain is equipped with a panel of buttons.  Push one button on, watch another automatically turn off.  


Today, I see it as my responsibility to familiarize myself with control mechanisms that disallow anyone to push my buttons without my permission.  Upon learning to maintain control over my buttons, my choices continue to expand.  And thus have I become master over much of my fate.  Though some of my choices may cause others to feel confused, all they need do is ask, "Why do you choose to do this rather than that."  I do not fear sitting in the inquisitor's hot seat, because my choices prove caring and stable to this day.  And thus for sound reason have I learned to place my trust in my ability to meet my needs without putting anyone else down.


When walls of denial
Separate conscious awareness
From too many true emotional reactions
We deny casting judgment
We deny feeling angry, envy or lustful
We dismiss repressed anger, envy and lust
As being non existent
We have no clue that suppressed anger, envy and lust
Manifest themselves in unhealthy ways ...
Such as over-eating, spending, loss of appetite
Depression—all addictions
Leading toward lying to ourselves
While cheating on those we love


A world class pleaser has no awareness
That this heavily weighted pattern persists
Until the pleaser's unmet needs loom so large
As to explode—
As all things have two sides
These explosions may need to take place
If defensive walls
Which had been unconsciously erected
By Mother Nature at a time when
The vulnerable mind of terrorized child
Was in dire need of protection—
Are ever to come down


When the traumatized portion
Of a child's mind is frozen
In an undeveloped state
The child may refuse to see how
Frightfully unsafe day-to-day life can be
And thus does the benevolent nature of
Mother Nature release a traumatized child—
From diving too deep into
A black hole of despair
Where a disillusioned spirit
Can't find it's way out of the dark ...
On the other hand
A young mind
That believes itself empowered
To heal others
May refocus its spirit
Toward helping anyone whose problems
Appear to be greater than one's own ...
How do I know this to be true?
Been there, done that—
Till my time of need outweighed
My fear of conflict
And my protective wall of denial
Came tumbling down ...
Thus exposing that which lay
Behind my persona—to me
And once my blinders had been ripped away
I came to see
Vulnerabilities that I'd hidden successfully ...
From myself
At this point my need to work, consciously
To shore up half baked strengths
Was self motivated, at last!


Once this good-as-gold-nice-as-nice-can-be-little girl grows up to release the shocking flood of fearsome anger, which had been repressed behind denial's wall throughout twenty five years of marriage, no one will feel more alarmed to hear her shout—  ENOUGH!  ENOUGH!  ENOUGH!
NO MORE WALKING BLINDLY
THROUGH THIS MAZE OF CONFUSION
WITH A SMILE MASKING EMOTIONS THAT RING TRUE
THROUGH AND THROUGH
NOW THAT MY VOICE
IS NO LONGER CAUGHT
BEHIND A LUMP IN MY THROAT
PLEASE TAKE THIS TO HEART:
IF WHAT I SAY GOES IN ONE EAR
AND OUT THE OTHER
OVER LONG
THEN PERHAPS
STEPPING BACK
AND WISHING YOU WELL
WHILE I WALK MY OWN PATH
IS THE ONLY CHOICE LEFT
IN ORDER TO ENSURE THAT FRUSTRATION
DOES NOT BUILD UP
WITHIN ME
REPEATEDLY ...

—than me


Each time unresolved inner conflict looms too heavy, today, I sense readiness ripening to absorb the fact that another mental block is in the process of breaking down.  And thus have I learned to hunker down and encourage my conscious mind to embrace the heavy feeling, which serves as a sign that insight into the source of another hot spot of subconscious pain, fear or confusion is about to emerge from behind my wall of denial and expose itself to me.


Having read the stories revealed thus far,  you can see how insight into self awareness opens my eyes to the mind maze, where misperceptions—on both sides—cause relationships to crack in half.  BULLY FOR ME suggested the fact that the relationship, which had cracked in half was the one I'd enjoyed with myself ...


Before half baked strengths can shore up, it's vital to learn how to discern when the depth of today's despair has been darkened immeasurably by yesterday's unprocessed fear ...


With time, you'll watch me grow ever more aware of the main root of my fear.  And once the main root has been examined, we'll see why shoots of fear sprout from the first.  Then as I develop the boldness necessary to come to know both sides of myself, a fork in the narrow expanse of my road will appear.  And this fork in the road will offer me a choice of two paths...


The more familiar of those two paths will lead me back into that mind maze, where confusion reigns supreme.  With time, you'll see how the combination of love, fear, and compassion for others swirls into confusion, which catches my mind in the net which swings toward yesterday's fears.  On the other hand, I plan to show you how the combination of love, compassion plus courage and clarity led me toward a path where my future will play out, differently than anyone who'd thought to know me well, could have ever imagined in their wildest dreams.


You see, any who'd failed to peer deeply enough or listen more deeply than ever before, had not perceived of those stage of personal growth that catalyzed positive changes to take place within me.  And if you mistake the person I've grown to be, today for the cheerful, loquacious coward, I'd unknowingly been—well maybe it's time to look again—but not at me—at yourself—to see if you have need to confront numbed fears of your own ...


Think to know yourself?  Think again, my friends.  Think again!
Do you have a clue?  Or is your brain still fooling you ... as mine fooled me for far too long?


The fact that my first chunk of self assurance had been flash frozen within my subconscious at the tender age of three at which time death disabled my developing sense of self trust, offered me no way to detect that insecurity controlled my brain as soon as conflict raised its gnarly, little head.


Since tongue-tied anxiety had made an easy target of me, a gang of mean-minded bullies felt free to tie another chunk of my self confidence to a stake where the fires of humiliation melted my budding sexuality into a confounded, molton mess—repeatedly.


As these flames of humiliation seared deeply into this aspect of my self confidence, four times weekly, my sensitivities had reason to freeze in fear whenever an attractive boy drew too near—I mean what could an attractive guy want with a laughing stock like me?


*As fate had offered me sound reason to misperceive of myself as good for a laugh but nothing more, my smile radiated with a good humored, high spirited sense of fun, which served the needs of others—brilliantly.  And you can believe me when I say that each time one of those unnamed fears usurped control over my mind, I'd duck and weave, masterfully if the merest hint of conflict came looking for me.  (as in BULLY FOR ME and FIRST KISS)


On the other hand, if a bully had so much as threatened your sense of safety, my compassion for your plight awakened my sleeping sense of courage.  At those times the thrust of my focus spontaneously and thus naturally went to great lengths in hopes of saving you from pain.  In fact, I'd provide you with safe passage by riding shot gun until whatever had bullied you had been chased a safe distance away.


At the same time that my need to relieve pain and keep the peace empowered my mind to move mountains by learning sure fire problem-solving techniques, I'd managed to push the main root of my problem—fear of conflict directed at me—under the rug for decades to come.


*And so, while my conscious mind taught my kids to stop bullying in its tracks on the spot, I'd no clue of having taught them to do that which I could not provide for myself.  Thank goodness that was then.  As to now?  Well, stick around and you shall see how everything I'd absorbed to empower my kids, eventaully empowered me.


I've come to see that fear of the truth blocks a person from knowing oneself in depth.  I've come to understand why and how denial blocks us from seeing both sides of ourselves.


*If asked why adults run anxiously away from deeper truths, which would set us free to accept ourselves as a whole, I'd say that we've been taught to despise half of the natural emotional reactions we feel spontaneously—deep inside.  And if you despise half of your traits then how difficult is it to love yourself?


Once that second slice of my self esteem had frozen in time, the bubbly girl, I knew myself to be numbed into a neutered zombie, who'd stiffen up as soon as an attractive guy tried to ring my bell .  And none could see the wounds of my mind, festering raw and anew, time and again, for this reason:  It had become my habit to open my pain to no one—and habits are hard to break.


So though I'd ACTED as carefree and cheerful as ever on the surface, deep within—I grown up to be exceptionally fearful.  To make matters worse, my persona had masked the main roots of my fears.  And thus I bought into my cheerful if overly careful persona as sincerely as everyone else, who'd had no clue of the series of earthquakes awaiting eruption in years to come.


'Knowing' myself to be fun, funny and cheerful, I'd thought that was why lots of boys had asked me out on dates.  And though I can picture myself physically pushing many Mr. Hormones away, I'd never thought to consider this probability:  One by one, this series of guys had felt rejected by me.  I mean seriously—if I could not fathom them feeling anything deeper than friendship for me and if all sense of arousal had been chained behind my persona, then what they were trying to get me to do—just didn't make sense!


Having tried unsuccessfully to connect on a deeper level with me, they'd stop calling, which made me feel rejected by them.  And so though I'd dated a long series of different guys throughout high school, none of those 'friendly' relationships developed any degree of intimacy that we associate with the word boyfriend—until I met Will during my senior year.


As Will and I had no clue of having been cross wired in similar ways, we were destined to become star crossed lovers, who'd acted like ships passing through the night, repeatedly.  I mean really—how classic could our love story become?  As Annie and Will fumble their attempts to connect, meaningfully, you'll watch us engage in every 'boy-meets-girl-boy-loses-girl' love story seen a million times on the silver screen.


With no clue that deep-seated anxiety had desensitized me to the state of my budding sexuality, I'd grown accustomed to feeling unattractive, asexual and abandoned.  (Need I point out that this pattern of cheerful, silent insecurity will not portend well for open communications within my marriage?  And yet, it will seem as though Will was the one who could not communicate openly with me ...)


Once my antenna had been cross wired on that bus, I could not comprehend any guy—most especially anyone whom I'd secretly adored—secretly crushing on me.  So, if we think back to FIRST KISS, when Captain Popular's hormones had leaped out to grab me and imprint love's first impassioned lip lock into my memory, all I could perceive at that moment was—panic!  And as love's first kiss had shocked my intelligence right out of my preteen mind, I'd boxed my secret love soundly all around his head.


From that time on, my insecure, negatively focused mind set believed that Captain Popular hated me.  And as my mind had been solidly blocked from reconsidering whether any of my perceptions had been off target, many decades would pass before I had reason to wonder if Captain Popular had yearned to reconnect romantically with me as much as I had with him.  Unfortunately, neither of us had a clue how easily emotional traffic jams interfere with the brain's sense of clarity.  (FRST KISS)


Thank goodness instinct compelled me to seek the path of self awareness when I grew to be an adult.  (Why?  Later Gater.)


Thank goodness, I came to see that Hansel and Gretel's bread crumbs had served as signs, directing them toward exiting their enchanted forest.


*Thank goodness, instinct prompted me to collect confounding pieces of my puzzle until, that wondrous day when one flash of insight connected with another, and a series of puzzling experiences hooked up in such a magnetic way as to produce a bigger picture, which allowed me to see how the sum of my strengths and my self defeating traits combine to create a whole human being!


 Today when I spy one of my insecure, negatively focused, self defeating thought patterns grabbing control of my brain, I know to take an immediate time out-on-the-spot.  Upon inhaling deeply, I have trained my intelligence to consciously fill my lungs with oxygen.  Once my heart is oxygenated with a sense of mindfulness, I can pump positively focused energy into the self assured side of my brain.


Each time I consciously empower my sense of self trust to control my whole brain, I stop insecurity from diving into a fear-driven spin, fueled by yesterday's unprocessed pain.  The fact that I know that collecting every bread crumb is a life long task reminds me to focus on whatever is taking place, right now.


Now that unresolved insecurity cannot hot wire my mind, subconscious fear rarely burns my hard won, self assured, listening, speaking and clarifying skills to a crisp.


If attitude, timing and clarity are vital to successful problem solving then common sense suggests addressing traumas that Mother Nature saw fit to submerge within an unprocessed state when we were kids.  Otherwise, we may find that all too often subconscious fears may mix us up ... and when that's the case—too often ...


"Old times ... if you're not careful ... they'll gut you like a fish ..."  RULES OF CIVILITY by Amor Towles


If we fail to identify a trauma locked within a subconscious deep freeze it's impossible to identify the state of mind that keeps us tongue-tied, today.


Mind twister:
When I'd no clue that my fear of conflict
Had given birth to my need to please
My need to sidestep conflict
Rose far above
My need to feed my basic needs


This fear of conflict blocked me from seeing this fact:
My lack of personal freedom was due to the belief that half of my natural reactions felt utterly unacceptable and thus shameful.


My struggle with undeserved guilt arose any time anger erupted—naturally.


Inner conflict ensues whenever world class pleasers feel jealous, envious, depressed—anything other than warm hearted, upbeat and cheerful as a lark.


Rather than accepting negatively focused, socially unacceptable emotions, like like fury or jealousy, as natural human reactions, I'd been taught to fend them off.  And feeling myself guilty to the point of unworthiness, I'd feel sadness closing in.  And when one has reason to feel confused or sad for too long—nothing can feel more—depressing—than that.  Clarity and mental health go hand in hand.


For most of my life I'd no clue that depression is anger turned in.


I had no clue that anger-turned-in seeks comfort foods to fill up the holes that loneliness bores into our brains ... or stops us from feeling hunger gnawing away ...


When anger is deprived of its voice, we can not step up and defend our honor.


By the way, there is a huge difference between running away and separating oneself from the negative energy of others after one's voice has been repeatedly dismissed by those whose fear of the truth blinds them from peeling way their wall of denial in hopes of identifying bread crumbs of their own.


Since denial blocked me from recognizing the depth of my caldron of repressed anger, I'd felt blameless whenever a relationship came undone.  I mean, how could anyone as nice, generous, cheerful and eager to be of help consider myself even partially to blame when a relationship cracked in half?


As both sides of human nature vie for control over everyone's brains, inner conflict tends to be a natural state of mind.  Since inner conflict undermines clarity, I've trained the thought processing side of my brain to stop, look and listen so that the positively focused, intelligent side of my mind does not swerve, too quickly, toward a negatively focused track.


When the name of the game is Love or Spiritual Survival, Time Out is not just for kids and jocks.


As mental clarity is vital to skillful decision making, I've found it wise to take time out to surmise when two situations look alike but, in truth, are most certainly not.  In recent years, I choose to be an astute and thus quiet observer, more often, than one who leaps to wrong conclusions—based on the little that can be seen at first glance.  (as in NO! NO! NOT AGAIN!!)

If you choose to spend time with me, you'll hear me say, periodically:


My first thought is not necessarily my best thought
It's just—my first thought
And quite often
My first thought is in need of more consideration
Than I'd originally thought.
J

As each story rolls out off the cuff, I must admit to having no clue as to which story will pop out of my mind and show up on your screen, next.  However, today's lack of direction does not worry me.  You see, rather than feeling insecure about wherever my instincts may direct my mind next, I sense a new adventure in self awareness about to unfold.  Story by story, we'll both come to see the reasons why I married Will and Will married me.


Then, once those stories have been told, more will unfold.  And as we swing back and forth, together, through time, you and I may light upon insights, which reveal deeper truths into the reasons why love and friendship come undone ...


Nuf to munch on for today.
It's half past noon.
Way past time for breakfast
And as my mind feels nourished
By each insight which has imprinted itself into this post
Tis time to nourish my body
Or my brain will go into a slump
And as I need the self assured side of my mind
To remain alert as I go about the rest of my day—
Tis time to say happy trails till we meet again
Your friend,
Annie
J

478 NO! NO! NOT AGAIN!! Part 55

55
2002

Swinging ...
"I'm concerned about the plight of children throughout the world, because a child's sense of security depends upon the compassionate, long term care on the part of responsible adults.  When adult minds wander ever more deeply into confusion, children are led into mind mazes where disillusionment darkens by the day.  Presently, we're all in need of transitioning consciously toward positive change, because, at every age, both genders need free time, play time as well as personal-growth-time-on 'Walden Pond'.  At every stage of life we need to feel nourished by generosity of spirit.  We need to be led by compassionate leaders, who offer positively focused guidance.  We need to feel nurtured by tender, loving hugs.  We need to feel appreciated for work well done.  We need emotional security, financial security and hot moments in bed.
Before we can meet our needs, we need down time to reconsider self defeating ways in which we prioritize our energy and time.”

“Annie—are you saying that you plan to write about—sex?”

“Well, Mom, my story concerns every aspect of life.  And since every aspect of life thing is interconnected in one way or another, I'm going to show how a healthy sexual relationship feeds one vital aspect of human hunger just as oxygen or bread and water feed another.
I believe that the way most of us engage in sex does not equate with the art of making love.  I believe sex is just one aspect of human development that gets stuck during the adolescent stage of life.  And that's not good, because who is more egocentric than a teen?  Our passive aggressive attitudes concerning sexuality continue to be more mixed up and thus less healthy than we'd think.  I hear more men and women spouting passive aggressive barbs at their sexual partners than you might believe.  Mom, you’d be surprised at how many parents, today, cannot talk to their five year olds about sex without embarrassment.

If both genders continue to feel conflicted, concerning mixed messages that we’ve absorbed over the past sixty years then common sense suggests many of those mixed messages are absorbed by our kids, as well. Since many of those mixed messages concerning sexuality, I am planning to write about that.  When an adult feels free to discuss sexuality openly and unabashedly, a child's mind connects naturally to the fact that two consenting adults may enjoy a leisurely banquet, which satisfies the sensual hungers of both.  Rather than experiencing sensuality, I believe most couples experience the bread and water variety of sex, where there's grabbing, grasping, groping, grunting, clutching, pumping and coming (if you’re lucky) in a few minutes flat.

While writing about my quest to know myself in depth, I hope to connect with many more minds than those who've taken my classes.  My best teaching tool has always been the fact that I can place my ego aside and bare my misperceptions and mistakes which led to self defeat.  By using my life as an example of the ways in which self awareness leads toward positive change, I can demonstrate how denial blocks us from identifying subconscious fears, which narrow our views and limit the expanse of the paths we tend to choose.  For example:

The sexual revolution, as we know it, today, began during the early sixties, when Will and I were deep into our teens.  Reflection tells me that for many years he and I had no clue that we were like two exhausted salmon, lugging old values forward, while swimming upstream.

I guess you could say that our story resembles a Reader’s Digest condensation of a dream come true that turned into two people's worst nightmare, ever!  Or better yet—I’ve been writing a collection of Annie’s Notes—you know—like Cliff’s Notes—in that—rather than dissecting classic literature, I'm dissecting a classic analysis of love-gone-wrong.”

“Does that mean you think you have the answers, Annie.”

“Mmmm—Not answers, Mom.  Let's just say that after teaching parent/child communications for all these years, I became intrigued by classic issues that seem to arise at each stage of family life.  And having led problem-solving classes for over three decades, the analytical side of my brain has had reason to deepen.

As you may remember, a nationally renown marriage counselor once said, ‘Annie, if you can write the same way you talk, you should relate your story in a book.’  Every year, people in my classes say the same thing.  Knowing myself to attack any task, single mindedly, I knew better than to write our story while raising our kids.  However, I can devote the bulk of my time to that mind bending project, today.  On the other hand there is one problem, as I see it:  If I write the same way I talk, it's likely that I'll never finish all of the writing, editing, and rewriting while I’m still alive.”

Once Mom and I stop laughing, we spend the next few seconds swinging in silent reflection, side by side, until laughter bubbles up in me, again.  Tipping her head in my direction, curiosity covers Mom’s face as she asks, “What’s so funny, Annie?”

“I’m thinking of something Lauren said during a phone conversation.”

“And that would be?”

“She said, Annie, if you don’t finish writing your story sometime soon, you may be writing the best book that no one will ever read except for you!”

Mom chuckles and agrees.  “Lauren’s right about that.  Do you have any idea when you’ll be done?”

“Nope.  But when it is finished—I’ll be the first to know.  Actually, I’m thinking about changing the title from

STRIPPING SNOW WHITE

to

ANNIE’S IDIOPATHIC ENCYCLOPEDIC ANTHOLOGY OF LOVE

“What does idiopathic mean?”

“Idiopathic is a medical term that impressed me when I was a bride.  I’d sit on the floor in our unfurnished living room and test Will’s knowledge of medical lingo from note cards that he’d prepared during his third year of med school. Idiopathic means ‘of unknown origin.’ ”

Then, I recite the title aloud again—

“ANNIE'S IDIOPATHIC ENCYCLOPEDIC ANTHOLOGY OF LOVE”

—At this, the twinkle in Mom’s eyes matches mine when she asks, “Annie, is it okay if we stop talking for a while?”

“Sure,” I answer, sheepishly. “ Your head must feel as swollen as my tongue.  In fact my tongue is so tired, it just wants to lay down and go to sleep inside my mouth.”  Self depreciating humor makes us laugh, again.

Upon ending my explanation as to why I’m drawn to the computer to write about the ways in which positive focus empowers lasting love, Mom and I get off the swing.  I open the Arcadia door and follow my mother into my house.  As we walk, arm in arm, through my bright and airy kitchen, which leads into the dining room, which connects with the living room, which connects with the world, beyond, I think to myself—"Airing my thoughts often clarifies my understanding of whatever’s going on deep within my mind ...  I’ll have to find a place in the book, early on, to suggest the importance of taking note of unusual life events, which may cause the next stage of a child's development to swerve away from center ... for example:

A serious accident or lengthy illness in the family may unsettle an entire support system—thus throwing a child's sense of safety off balance.  A tragedy, such as divorce or death, may cause a child’s support system to collapse.  Any number of unexpected events may cause the impressionable mind of a quietly traumatized child to swerve away from that which would otherwise be considered a natural, well balanced, classic stage of development.

*As a small child, I appeared to comply with authority in a good natured manner in the aftermath of two traumatic deaths—Grandpa’s and Janet’s—however, the truth of the matter was this:  I’d followed authority—fearfully—rather than naturally.  In retrospect I’d felt so conflicted about my role in the family that my weak spot (eczema) flared, causing me to scratch my skin raw each time a negative emotion arose.  *As it had been my habit to expose an exuberant smile while stuffing any negative emotion, which might disturb our household's sense of peace, a massive boulder of molten emotion collected behind my defensive wall of denial—and over time, no one believed—my good-as-gold-ready-to-please-easy-to-love-little-girl’s-sparkling persona—more than me.

If you ask, ‘Annie, what caused you to choose the fork in the road where the cock-eyed optimism of a pleaser wore the good-natured, bright smile of complacency rather than turning toward a path where you'd feel free to look down in the mouth and tantrum toward negatively focused, resentful rebellion?'  I’d be inclined to say …

 I was afraid to be bad.  Why?  The answer to that question will emerge in a story down the road.

I was also afraid to embrace the classic nature of both sides of the human condition as it truly exists within us all.

*I did not like myself when I'd felt frightened, insecure, disappointed, disjointed, abandoned, dispirited, inflamed, jealous, lustful, resentful, angry, zealous, superior, wrathful, condemning, judgmental, guilty, inferior, lonely or frustrated with my own loss of patience or lack of tolerance.  I needed to feel like a good, strong, smart, independent, compassionate, successful girl—or else I felt like—nothing.  As a good girl, my persona had to be consumed within the fires of fury before I could consciously allow anger to emerge.

*As negative and positive reactions are natural to the well balanced human condition it proved vital to the good health of my spirit to figure out why my sense of self worth and personal safety relied upon hiding negative emotions from myself ...

Why did I develop the need to hide any hint of fear or negativity behind a good-as-gold-easy-to-please persona—which had layered up over the years?

If asked:  "Annie, what catalyzed your need to extinguish negative emotion?  I'd reply:  Insecurity.  As I was afraid to rock anyone's boat, I guess you could say I was afraid of—a tidal wave of emotion that might splash back at me thus—drowning—my sense of well being ... 

Even today, I never know what I'm thinking deep inside until I read what I've written on it. (Thank you for that insight, Wm.Faulkner.)
PS
Hmmm—just grew aware of the fact that most of my posts stem from stream of consciousness—and that makes me wonder if I'd find Faulkner less difficult to master, today?

478 WILLIAM FAULKNER WHISPERS INTO MY EAR

I’ve made mention of surgeries offering me lots of time to ponder over life, while reading toward recovery.  While recovering physically, much of what I chose to read helped me to recoup slices of self-esteem, which I’d no clue of having spliced away.

As I had reason to google William Faulkner, today, let’s consider words of wisdom uttered or penned by an author, whose thought process ran too deep for me to fathom when I was young:

I never know what I think about something until I read what I've written on it.

Don't bother just to be better than your contemporaries or predecessors. Try to be better than yourself.

The man who removes a mountain begins by carrying away small stones.

The past is never dead. It's not even past.

Unless you're ashamed of yourself now and then, you're not honest.

We have to start teaching ourselves not to be afraid.

As writing memoirs requires reviewing the past, I picture myself as a teen sitting, resting my head against the wall behind my bed, working to master an English Lit homework assignment.  I remember feeling utterly stymied while reading THE SOUND AND THE FURY.  I remember not ‘getting’ stream of consciousness, at all.  I remember thinking that Faulkner and my teacher were nuts if they thought this stuff would ever make sense—to me.  I remember falling asleep, worried that I would not pass tomorrow’s quiz.

I don’t remember if I passed that test or not.

I do remember doing well, over all, in that class.

In retrospect, that class serves as a metaphor for life:

Life pours lots of information into our ears

Some we get.

Some we don’t

Some tests we pass; others we fail

Today, I thank Miss C. profoundly for working to guide me
Toward processing thoughts ever more deeply into my mind


Today, I thank Mother Nature
For gifting the human mind with the potential
To comprehend, today, that which had confounded us, yesterday


Today I stand in awe of classic insights, which shine the light of clarity
Over thought processes to which I'd once been blind 

*The trick to success is to learn who we failed and …

Why we failed, in hopes of
Passing more of life's tests than failing, repeatedly

*If the past remains with us forever

Then common sense suggests
That we review events from yesteryear
Which may have created attitudes that limit our thoughts, today
You see, wounds still festering from the past must be identified
Understood and accepted as part of each one's fate
Before we can heal ourselves and move past yesterday's pain

In most cases pain, left to fester deep inside the mind
Distracts our appreciation of living life to the fullest, today


If you agree that insight into history
Stops us from repeating failure, repeatedly
Then you may benefit from watching me work
To identify vulnerabilities I'd blindly denied


With time, I believe that you, too, shall see why
It's wise to work conscientiously
In hopes of coming to know both sides of oneself
In this way, we'll both strengthen classic vulnerabilities
Which had caused us to experience similar failures—again and again


Day after day, I write about denial for this reason:
*If we hope to be honest with ourselves about ourselves …

Then we must teach ourselves
To muster the courage to face this deeper truth :

Both sides of human nature live within and sneak out of us all

*If you hide from your true self

By stuffing the sound of your fury
Behind the defensive wall of your well groomed, angelic persona

Then—guess who you must fear most of all?
If you fear yourself, can you trust yourself?
If you can't trust yourself, how can you trust anyone else?


If you ask, "Annie, how can I learn
How much 'sound of fury' may be locked behind my defensive wall?"
Then I'll reply to your question with this riddle:

If the persona you take out in public is different from

The person who feels confused when you are home, alone

Then which of these two people is truly you?

And if you are not who you think you are, deep inside ...

Then who may be lying on the other side of the wall

Chained to the past, hoping to be discovered

And saved from this lonely existence, at long last?

Might the adult, you've grown to be

Rescue the vulnerabilities of a child too young

To process acts and deeds and words with the accuracy

That depends upon—depth?

Once you face the answer to that riddle
With your head on straight, here comes the next:

Which of the two of you grows stronger, year by year—

The angelic persona, who needs to be admired or

The person who musters the courage to
Compassionately place the persona aside ...

In hopes of identifying both sides of your traits?

If you consciously choose to identify
And heal from subconscious fury

Then you'll need to ask this question of yourself:
Which of my perceptions may be misperceptions
In need of serious reconsideration?


If you've read the posts entitled FIRST KISS
Then you may remember how misperception
Chained my spirit to a place in the past
That made me feel bad, for forty years
Forty years of wandering through a desert wasteland
Where my spirit had been dragged down ...
By a misperception, which I'd lugged around
As excess baggage—until insight cast a light upon
A deeper thought to which I'd been blind ever since
That busload of bullies
Pummeled my self esteem into a painful pulp


As my stories unfold and you watch me grow up
You'll see that which I had need to learn
Before I developed the depth to heal a hole in my heart

Whereby I came to feel as wholly myself as a new born babe


Story by story
You'll come to see why I seek the wisdom
To work at identifying specific reasons why
Yesterday's unhealed pain
Continued to darken or whitewash my views, today


As a really good friend (or a really good teacher)
Will not presume to tell you what to think
I seek out friends who do not fear suggesting
That I reconsider opinions
Which may be in serious need of revision

And as your friend ...
I invite the courageous side of your mind
To connect with the courageous side of mine
So that, by and by
We may identify misperceptions and overcome classic fears

Which divide loved ones into separate camps


I mean, as long as neither of us is a control freak—
Two heads are better than one!

And if, at this moment in time, you'd wish to ask:
"Annie, how can we work to overcome fear that we deny?"
I'd reply—

First, we'll consciously open our minds
Next, we'll reconsider age-old wisdom, whispered into our ears
Then, we'll work to identify vulnerabilities
Left unresolved during childhood, which may be
In need of transitioning toward adult strengths

And as we work toward developing into optimistic realists
We'll carve out courageous paths

Which lead toward personal success—
Without putting anyone down—including oneself


As I see myself as your friend not your foe
I want to hold your hand ... while we teach ourselves
Not to be afraid—of peeling away layers
Of the persona who blinds us from identifying
And accepting classic traits, which we deny harboring deep inside
As you watch me peel away at my persona
You'll see why I've learned to embrace

The classic nature of the human condition ...

Which, at times, causes us to feel frightened, insecure, disappointed
Disjointed, abandoned, dispirited, inflamed, jealous, lustful, resentful, angry
Zealous, superior, wrathful, condemning, judgmental, guilty, inferior, lonely and frustrated with our lack of tolerance and patience
As all of this natural
It's of vital importance to the good health of our spirits to figure out—why
Our sense of personal safety feels it necessary to hide those emotions from ourselves!

JAnnie
PS
News flash!
Just off the presses!
New book focuses upon carving positively focused channels
Of thought into our minds ...
GETTING PAST YOUR PAST by Dr. Francine Shapiro
A new book by Dr. Francine Shapiro offers techniques to help readers get beyond the trauma or setbacks caused by memories of their past ...