505 A SMALL, CROOKED, HOPING-FOR-COMIC-RELIEF SMILE

For some reason, instinct inspired me to reread posts 186, 187, 188—KISS AGAIN.

Tis not for me to reason why instinct spins my mind this way or that.
Tis enough to permit my subconscious to guide me toward re-examining puzzling pieces, thrashing around inside my head, hoping that as each piece falls into place, a BIGGER picture will clarify, down the road.  And at that time, inner peace will declare every tunneling step of this painstaking, soul searching work to prove worthwhile.

These three posts (186, 187, and 188) may be found by backtracking to July 12, 2011.

When working to solve a mystery, which darkens my spirit
My mind moves back and forth across the time line
Connecting the dots
Why?
When inner peace is my goal
Defeat is not an option.

As thee can see
No rib tickling, comic relief, as of yet ...
So I'll sign off for today by offering my friends
A small, crooked, ever hopeful smile ...
~Annie
PS
Though I don't place much faith in horoscopes
I like to see whether my mood and the stars align
Today's horoscope suggests:
Relieve the pressure! (Ha!)
Don't let angry feelings well up in your body. (Ha!)
Find a safe environment to blow out your emotions—
Through language, vigorous exercise or artistic expression—
Bingo!
(Smile a little less crooked, a little bit wider ...)

504 ODE TO THE RESURGENCE OF MUTUALLY RESPECTING FRIENDSHIPS

Though it's true that day to day
Each can offer no better than one's best attempt at success
Insight into personal growth suggests considering this thought:
Today's best may face the need to pass new tests ...
So rather than casting snap judgments, impatiently
Concerning that which loved ones have yet to achieve
May I suggest that each works, peaceably, at refocusing our minds—
In hopes of detecting that which may be in need of improvement, within
And if that suggestion 'speaks' to you as it does to me then—
A disillusioned friendship may develop a sense of mutual respect—
That nourishes two lonely hearts

If you've grown as tired of slaying demons as have I
Then let's stop burying our heads in the sand for this reason:

Burying heads in the sand
Doth not stop demons from biting

Burying heads in the sand
Frees demons to bite thee and me in the butt

And thus, though I be sick and tired
Of walking through hell

It's best to keep walking
Until my mind feels free of fires, burning deep within


I'm clearly tired
Of squeezing deeper truths out of the dark side of my mind


I'm clearly tired
Of feeling tricked by the dark side of life


My funny bone is in need of a hearty tickling
By the light side of life ...


And as my comment box is always hungry
Your suggestions are clearly welcome ...


Your friend, 
Annie

503 AN ODE TO READYING MY TONGUE TO UNTIE?

What if insight hits
Suggesting that when in conflict
With certain people
My tongue hath had sound reason
To have tied itself into tight knots of fear?

What if the nature of this troubling, tongue-tied condition
Is stimulated by my sense of responsibility
That feels pressured to take good care of another's needs
Thus denying my own?

What if any expression of conflicting opinion on my part
Throws this other person into such a vein-popping, apoplectic fit of passion
That the mere thought of igniting a hint of that wrath scares my intelligence silly
I mean, if that insight hits the bulls eye, then might I allow any hint of innuendo
To kill my voice—softly—year after year?

What if while working to develop insight into self awareness
These insights hit me right between the eyes:
This relationship has been based in swallowing my angst
This relationship has been based in sugarcoating painful truths

In truth, many relationships are based in
One person airing his or her views, freely
While the other feels need of taming his or her tongue
In truth, can a relationship as unbalanced as that
Be deemed a mutually supportive friendship by any stretch of the word?

As one insight inspires many more, I've come to see
That when my needs had reason to conflict with
The needs of certain others
A pattern had shaped up
Whereby a lump had choked the open pathway of my throat

Recently, I came to see that this lump
Is caused by a sizable portion of my tongue
Tying itself so tightly into a knot that my voice chokes, deep in my throat
And as a result, my mind has grown
Sick and tired of not expressing itself, freely

Today, insight into self awareness
Compels me to give voice to my angst
And thus doth growth in self awareness
Beg answers to questions
Such as these:

Will I permit the bitter taste of bile
To spew out, spontaneously
Thus matching insult for insult—or—
Will I give voice to my angst
With the simplicity of heartfelt compassion?

If thee professes
To know me at all
Then thee knows, full and well
That I'll ponder upon these questions until
I can unquestionably choose—door number two

And that recognition begs answer to this question:
How best might I address issues shoved under the rug
With those who have proven, repeatedly to be less than practiced
At discussing painful truths in a mutually respectful
And thus peaceable manner?

Ah!  What tangled webs of woe
We mortals, who fear confronting painful truths, continue to weave
Ah!  If only webs of innuendo might be untangled
In such soothing ways so as to expose naked truths
Without treading harshly upon the vulnerable aspects of each other's psyches

And thus does my subconscious work
To find a way to openly declare—
To those who quake with fear ...
Behind their self protective personas—
That my mind is so tired of pretense
No part of me can pretend that all is well ...

What I wouldn't give to project my voice
With the open simplicity of Dad's honesty, right now!
Oh wait!  Is it possible that by way of my posts of recent weeks
My subconscious has been injecting my conscious mind with the antidote
Which may untie my tongue, thus melting the lump in my throat, at long last?

Wish me luck, my friends
For more reasons than one
You see, if it's true that one change leads to another then ...
Instinct suggests that once I've mustered the courage to untie my tongue
The lump in my throat will spontaneously evaporate into thin air

And as that welcome change
Is bound to depressurize
A back up of mental pain
Which blocks my channel of communications from ...
Connecting the left and right sides of my brain ...

I feel hopeful
That the story telling portion of my mind
May open it's gates
And flow freely—
Again!

502 SINGING AN ODE TO MY DAD ...

Good morning, everyone :)
Often times, reminders of  my mom's and dad's antics flow back and forth amongst family members, because the side of human nature, which proves naturally funny, makes us laugh, again and again ... which is good.  Today, I awoke reminiscent of cherished memories, which enrich my heart so deeply that I penned this poem in a post with thoughts of Father's Day filling my mind:

What is an ode?
An ode is a poem expressing exalted emotion
Though an ode is a poem which may be sung
Reality suggests you may not want to hear me try to carry a tune :)

So ...
With the imminent approach of Father's Day
My mind turns toward writing this poem
Describing the depth of my love for my dad

In loving memory of my lifelong friend
Imagine me walking outside, onto my patio
Where, gazing up into the bright blue sky—
Which Dad had loved so well—

I envision my father's high spirited, warm hearted smile
Shining down from the expanse of that sky above me
And in this way am I enveloped, again and again
Within the safe haven of Dad's undying affection ...

Which had protected my sense of security
From succumbing to fear
When as an innocent child ...
I’d yet to experience the ravages of life

Each time I conjure up the boundless nature
Of Dad's openness to giving and receiving love, my spirit breathes in
The adventurous joie de vie with which Dad's heart and mind
Had enjoyed countless aspects of a life well lived

Though most say:
'I hope to die in my sleep'
Dad found a more fulfilling way
To leave this world for the next

With no clue that he was about to depart this life
Dad left all sense of conscious awareness behind
While sitting on the couch, holding forth a glass of wine ...
With which he’d just toasted his 'bride' of sixty years ...

And thus did Dad breathe his last breath while kissing my mom
So, if you were to ask “Annie, what hath empowered thy spirit
With the true meaning of lasting love”, I'd reply, twas my good fortune
To experience my parents’ unconditional love throughout my life ...

Happy Father's Day, Dad
For countless reasons
I'll love you, forever and ever
And most likely even longer than that ...

501 SOUL MATE—WHERE FORTH ART THOU?

Upon hearing:
I found my soul mate
My cheshire smile appears
What inspires this smile?
Listening to naiveté speaking aloud

In truth
Soul mates are not found
Soul mates develop
Why is that true?
Because a synonym for soul mate is trust

And trust is not found trust develops
Trust deepens or lessens
Depending upon whether a relationship
Can weather
A series of difficult tests

Though every psyche is many layered
Love smites us blind to complexities
Which always develop for this reason:
The power of attraction is so magnetic as to
Sweep our spirits into a swirling state of emotional wonder

And if you ask why we are naive, repeatedly
I'd reply:
At first, we gratify each other's unmet needs
However, with time
Both personas begin to unravel

And as the naked psyche
Is less than pretty
Eventually, every relationship is sorely tested
Thus proving it is naive to believe ...
Soul mates can be found

If it's true that every relationship is tested, repeatedly
Then common sense suggests we need to answer this question:
Can you and your partner both muster the courage to look within?
As you shall see, in the absence of self discovery, bonds of intimacy
Which are based in self trust, begin to crack in half

When one musters the courage
To look in and identify hidden vulnerabilities
While the other does not
One seeks truths while the other runs away
So the possibility of becoming soul mates fails to develop

As insight suggests that
Hoping to find a soul mate is futile
Common sense suggests that
Soul mates work toward deepening
One’s own sense of self-trust

Why?  For this reason;
If birds of a feather fly together
Then the path we each carve for ourselves
Is bound to intersect with the path of others
Who set a high value upon self discovery, as well

And thus, on the up side, if your heart is hurting
Here is why I believe you may be less alone
Than you might surmise on your own:
Tis true that hearts, which have experienced depths of loneliness
May not recognize love signals when they pop up

So if thee proves a truth seeker with the courage to look in ...I believe you are made of 'the right stuff'
That's necessary to develop a relationship
With another truth seeker, whose inner strengths
Long to hold hands with yours through thick and thin ...

Whoops—here's another insight that just popped out of my mind:
Though two people, who ignore self discovery
May exist, peaceably, side by side ...
Absence of disagreement doth not make soul mates of this pair
And here is why that's true:

When a couple lives together, peaceably, but self discovery is nil
One submits all sense of self respecting, personal power to the other
Suggesting that peaceful co-existence depends upon one brain usurping control
Over both thought processing centers—and when
Harmony depends upon subjugation, connective bonds are not healthy

At times we each fly with the flock; at times we each soar on our own
Insight suggests that while seeking one's soul mate
We must fly high and low while developing the courage to look within
And once our wing spans have had sound reason to expand
We'll connect with he or she who has developed ‘the right stuff’, as well

500 TAMING TORNADO-LIKE TEMPER TANTRUMS

Though science has not yet harnessed
The destructine nature of climate's tornado-like 'temper tantrums'
Psychology has made significant strides
When guiding mankind
To tame Mother Nature's
Human explosions of unbridled anger
And though we can not do more than struggle
To douse forest fires that threaten homes
Across the southwest, every summer
Or muster clean up crews
In the devastating aftermath of midwest tornados
We can all work to douse emotional fires
Which scorch the good health of our homes from within
If asked what this mental firefighter takes out of her tool box
When sparks fly and tempers flare
My reply should come as no surprise:
Communication Skills

Which by the way, are not hard to come by ...

WORKING TO DOUSE THE FIRES OF PTSD

As PTSD creates mental bouts of smoky confusion

Working to heal from PTDS

Is like fighting through flash fires—

Which are felt but not seen

Throughout most of my life
I had no clue as to when my responses had sung to the tune of PTDS 

All I knew was that I'd followed a limited path
Based in whatever had seemed to bolster a sense of peaceful safety

With no clue that PTDS
Had squelched my sense of adventure
The limitations of my scope began to expand when I became a mom
And to my good fortune, I stumbled upon the path of self awareness

Over time, this path guided me through smokescreens

Which kept my sense of clarity
In terms of reality
In the dark

Thank goodness, I'm not as vulnerable
To succumbing to hot spots of pain

Following bouts of undeserved guilt
As I'd once been

Today, I am more practiced at sensing when PTSD

Is bearing down on me
Having come to understand the adverse effects of PTSD upon me
My instincts sense when the PTSD of another is sweeping onto center stage

And with that knowledge in my mind

I am newly empowered to differentiate between those times when

It makes sense to step forward and offer to help solve a dispute vs when
To exit stage left and wait in the wings for hot winds of war to wind down

The fact that instinct signals my senses
To consciously step out of the direct line of fire
Is a welcome change in that my psyche

Has less reason to suffer the indignities of undeserved guilt trips

As clarity, in terms of reality, blows explosions of confusion away—
Uncalled for judgments, which had once inflamed my sense of inner peace —
Are spontaneously doused
By one of the strongest firefighters around

Today, rather than directing my mind to work to exhaustion
Dousing the flames of another’s distress
I've consciously grown flame retardant by concentrating my energies
Upon developing inner strengths—which are amassed, one by one

And as a flame-retardant firefighter
Who resists catching fire
Or flinging fire back

I've come to value this inner strength, most of all:

I've come to value insight into my basic survival instincts
Survival instincts signal me as to when it's best to run into a burning building vs
When to seek out exit signs, steering me away from unhealthy smokescreens
Which might cause my connection to intelligence to choke, today

Though Mother Nature created my persona

To protect my vulnerabilities when I was a child

I appreciate having developed a strong affinity for personal growth
For this reason:

My newfound sense of clarity
Bans smoke screens of confusion
Which had once led me, naively and thus blindly astray ...
Straight toward another person's angry line of fire

As I work to know my traits, through and through

Misdirected, unprovoked barbs, flinging undeserved guilt trips
Are rarely empowered
To pierce my heart with pain

If you ask me to differentiate between toughness and strength

I’d reply:

Whereas toughness points to pretense, cloaking a person's vulnerabilities

Strength pinpoints the classic nature of human vulnerabilities, existing within us all