2015
If dark secrets do not constitute the buried treasure I seek
Then what must that treasure be?
Lost portions of self esteem, which prove rightfully mine
Once my self esteem feels wholly restored
What can I expect as my just reward for a life well lived?
A rebalanced sense of inner peace, concerning the person I prove to be
If I know those two insights, concerning my character, are true
Then what blocks the restless nature of
My weary mind from feeling peacefully relaxed, right now?
Evidently, intuitive thought is coaxing my subconscious
Give birth to at least one more insight, concerning my past, before
My uterus, I mean my thought processor, feels free to relax
Actually, I'm so tired of laboring to give birth to insight
That once this next one slides out of my mind
I'm tying my tubes
Sunday, May 31, 2015
Saturday, May 30, 2015
1329 ARE WE ON THE SAME WAVE LENGTH?
2015
Upon awakening today
This question concerning insight into clarity popped out of my mind:
When I speak of myself as a deep sea diver seeking lost treasure
Or a master locksmith seeking the combination to open a safe
Do you know which treasures I hope to retrieve?
If you conceive of dark secrets as being the answer to today's riddle
May I respectfully suggest that you have reason to think, again ...
Upon awakening today
This question concerning insight into clarity popped out of my mind:
When I speak of myself as a deep sea diver seeking lost treasure
Or a master locksmith seeking the combination to open a safe
Do you know which treasures I hope to retrieve?
If you conceive of dark secrets as being the answer to today's riddle
May I respectfully suggest that you have reason to think, again ...
Friday, May 29, 2015
1328 AN ANSWER
2015
I just reviewed post 1326. Again
Why?
Well, once again, I've learned to listen when intuition coaxes
Inner need to speak to me, and guess what happened while
My sense of awareness absorbed
Strings of insight more thoroughly than before?
The answer to my question—concerning why
Inner tension (banging at my wall of denial) had lessened—came clear!
If you ask how that came to be, I'd reply:
Thinking, writing and re-writing deepens contemplative comprehension
While writing that post, intuition ignited insight that reflected
A negatively focused mindset; then, during the editing process
That insight ignited additional insights, and upon reviewing
That string of insights, my conscious awareness caught on to
A subconscious secret, which exposed a sense of self degradation that
Had layered up over my lifetime, and as long as
This secret remained in an unprocessed state
My sense of self degradation empowered a negative mindset to act like
A vice, squeezing the life out of my energy force in the still of the night
As long as this negative mindset remained captive behind
My wall of denial, I ignored the little voice that pleaded with me to
Figure out why keeping the peace seemed so vital as to silence my needs and
Opinions to the point of depriving my energy source from all sense of personal freedom
Thank goodness, my powers of intuition continued to
Hammer at my wall of denial until
One series of insights after another snapped, crackled and popped open
That padlock, which my defense system had placed on the door that had
Protected my conscious mind from feeling terrified when I was three, and
Over these past five years of penning my blog, you've watched me attempt to
Pick that lock as would a master locksmith, who (having lost
sight of the numbers that open the tumblers) worked until
The 'right' combination of insights fell into place, and as
The door in my wall of denial opened, guess what happened, next?
Several big 'bad' secrets slipped quietly into my conscious mind, at last!
It's not as if each of those secrets had never banged at
My wall of self-denial, before
In fact, each secret has been filtering, little by little, into
My conscious awareness for quite some time; however
Readiness to wholly embrace so many personal imperfections
Had not clarified the number one mindset in need of
Change for the better as clearly proves true, today
Holy cow! I am beginning to understand why
Exiting this mind maze has felt so challenging and confounding
As to feel overwhelming—time after time!
If you choose to scroll back to post 1326 and
Mull over the string of insights that my intuition coaxed
My worried, wearied, conscious sense of awareness to clarify
You, too, will get a feeling as to why my think tank's pounding tension
Felt sound reason to relax..
And now, having gained insight into why
My power of intuition kept coaxing
My weary mind to labor until several subconscious secrets emerged
I am beginning to understand why each of those secrets deemed me
So unworthy of love as to have caused me to roast myself over hot coals
In fact, I'm beginning to feel that my sense of clarity will soon
Be able to express the reason why feeling myself to be unlovable served
As the umbrella—under which a host of negatively focused mind sets had huddled
Sooo, if you'd like to review
That final string of insights, which offered me reason to
Sigh with relief and smile with pleasure over a life well lived
Please don't hesitate to back track while
I make my way into our kitchen to
Get coffee percolating and bagels toasting for
Will, our dear friend from the Midwest, and
Last but not least, "Me Too" ...
PS
I have a feeling that once our house guest flies home
I'll feel free to edit and post the unpublished trains of thought, which
Had felt too raw to expose for public consumption—until today ...
Or not ... who knows?
I just reviewed post 1326. Again
Why?
Well, once again, I've learned to listen when intuition coaxes
Inner need to speak to me, and guess what happened while
My sense of awareness absorbed
Strings of insight more thoroughly than before?
The answer to my question—concerning why
Inner tension (banging at my wall of denial) had lessened—came clear!
If you ask how that came to be, I'd reply:
Thinking, writing and re-writing deepens contemplative comprehension
While writing that post, intuition ignited insight that reflected
A negatively focused mindset; then, during the editing process
That insight ignited additional insights, and upon reviewing
That string of insights, my conscious awareness caught on to
A subconscious secret, which exposed a sense of self degradation that
Had layered up over my lifetime, and as long as
This secret remained in an unprocessed state
My sense of self degradation empowered a negative mindset to act like
A vice, squeezing the life out of my energy force in the still of the night
As long as this negative mindset remained captive behind
My wall of denial, I ignored the little voice that pleaded with me to
Figure out why keeping the peace seemed so vital as to silence my needs and
Opinions to the point of depriving my energy source from all sense of personal freedom
Thank goodness, my powers of intuition continued to
Hammer at my wall of denial until
One series of insights after another snapped, crackled and popped open
That padlock, which my defense system had placed on the door that had
Protected my conscious mind from feeling terrified when I was three, and
Over these past five years of penning my blog, you've watched me attempt to
Pick that lock as would a master locksmith, who (having lost
sight of the numbers that open the tumblers) worked until
The 'right' combination of insights fell into place, and as
The door in my wall of denial opened, guess what happened, next?
Several big 'bad' secrets slipped quietly into my conscious mind, at last!
It's not as if each of those secrets had never banged at
My wall of self-denial, before
In fact, each secret has been filtering, little by little, into
My conscious awareness for quite some time; however
Readiness to wholly embrace so many personal imperfections
Had not clarified the number one mindset in need of
Change for the better as clearly proves true, today
Holy cow! I am beginning to understand why
Exiting this mind maze has felt so challenging and confounding
As to feel overwhelming—time after time!
If you choose to scroll back to post 1326 and
Mull over the string of insights that my intuition coaxed
My worried, wearied, conscious sense of awareness to clarify
You, too, will get a feeling as to why my think tank's pounding tension
Felt sound reason to relax..
And now, having gained insight into why
My power of intuition kept coaxing
My weary mind to labor until several subconscious secrets emerged
I am beginning to understand why each of those secrets deemed me
So unworthy of love as to have caused me to roast myself over hot coals
In fact, I'm beginning to feel that my sense of clarity will soon
Be able to express the reason why feeling myself to be unlovable served
As the umbrella—under which a host of negatively focused mind sets had huddled
Sooo, if you'd like to review
That final string of insights, which offered me reason to
Sigh with relief and smile with pleasure over a life well lived
Please don't hesitate to back track while
I make my way into our kitchen to
Get coffee percolating and bagels toasting for
Will, our dear friend from the Midwest, and
Last but not least, "Me Too" ...
PS
I have a feeling that once our house guest flies home
I'll feel free to edit and post the unpublished trains of thought, which
Had felt too raw to expose for public consumption—until today ...
Or not ... who knows?
Thursday, May 28, 2015
1327 WHY DID MY TENSION RELAX?
2015
Not where I need to be—yet ...
Have I mentioned that over these past several days
I had a headache that just wouldn't quit?
This morning, I awoke with that headache pounding away
So wouldn't you surmise that my decision to
Ignore whatever was hammering for attention in favor of
Simplifying the complex nature of yesterday's train of thought was unwise?
Though my first thought to relax my mind seemed based in logic
Intuition kept coaxing me to scroll back to post 1326, and
Though my conscious mind remained clueless as to why
My first thought did not feel like my best thought
I decided to follow my intuitive need to review yesterday's train of thought
And guess what happened while my mind worked through that editing process?
My headache lessened, considerably, suggesting tension relaxing, again
If you ask: Annie, why did your tension relax?
I'd reply: Off the top of my head, I haven't a clue, and
Since my think tank feels too weary to brainstorm toward
Even so much as one more insight, today
I'll offer my insight seeker a much needed rest; however—
If Socrates whispers a plausible answer into your ear—
Comment box always eager to consider whatever you'd like to say ...
Not where I need to be—yet ...
Have I mentioned that over these past several days
I had a headache that just wouldn't quit?
This morning, I awoke with that headache pounding away
So wouldn't you surmise that my decision to
Ignore whatever was hammering for attention in favor of
Simplifying the complex nature of yesterday's train of thought was unwise?
Though my first thought to relax my mind seemed based in logic
Intuition kept coaxing me to scroll back to post 1326, and
Though my conscious mind remained clueless as to why
My first thought did not feel like my best thought
I decided to follow my intuitive need to review yesterday's train of thought
And guess what happened while my mind worked through that editing process?
My headache lessened, considerably, suggesting tension relaxing, again
If you ask: Annie, why did your tension relax?
I'd reply: Off the top of my head, I haven't a clue, and
Since my think tank feels too weary to brainstorm toward
Even so much as one more insight, today
I'll offer my insight seeker a much needed rest; however—
If Socrates whispers a plausible answer into your ear—
Comment box always eager to consider whatever you'd like to say ...
Wednesday, May 27, 2015
1326 MY BRAIN NEEDS A REST FROM ... BRAINSTORMING
2015
Over the weekend, I received an email from a friend who recently moved out of town. Upon opening her email, here is what I read:
As this dear friend has adorned my hair with shimmers for several years, her offer to 'shimmer me up' when she's in town warmed my heart, so I replied: I'm rarely on facebook and did not know of your loss until your email arrived. I know you'd have chosen to be with your mother at the end. It must have been hard to receive news of her passing while you were in the middle of the ocean.
It's not easy for anyone to gain clarity into accepting that which is beyond our control. However, achieving clarity in order to free our minds of undeserved guilt is essential to gaining and maintaining inner peace at every stage of life, and here's why that proves especially true if we hope to age with grace: Over each person's lifetime, many layers of unprocessed guilt layer up. And the heavy weight of guilt exacerbates grief.
Common sense suggests that with death comes change. As one change leads to another, a series of unexpected changes, which took place in the aftermath of my father's death, confounded my sense of clarity. You see, change breathes life into conflict. Not necessarily new conflict, but rather conflict, which had been swept under the rug, suggesting that it remained unresolved from the past.
While grieving for my dad, 'this fixer' observed defensive attitudes and closed mind sets in need of change within others until I had reason to consult with an astute therapist, who continued to coax me to refocus my quest for clarity upon identifying attitudes and mind sets, which proved to be my own. Eventually, this therapist's patient, non-judgmental attitude guided me to tap into my need to garner the courage to 'Know Myself' more thoroughly than had been true during the 58 years that had come before my father's passing. And over time, I came to see myself as a person who had spent most of my life denying the existence of my own deepest fears.
While working to identify personal fears, which my defense system had thought best to repress within subconscious pockets of my mind when I was a child, the insight seeker was born. And since the astute nature of this therapist continued to coax me to identify and embrace both sides of myself as a whole, my powers of intuitive thought continued to deepen within the safe haven of an emotional environment that did not condemn me for considering my needs to equal the needs of those I love. In fact, with time, I came to see that valuing my needs proved to be the goal that my therapist was gently encouraging this people pleaser to achieve.
If you ask which cardinal rule this change in my attitude was messing with, I'd reply:
Selflessness is next to godliness, suggesting that anything other than selflessness must be selfish. And any time I entertained that which seemed to be a selfish thought, guess what followed? Guilt.
Over the weekend, I received an email from a friend who recently moved out of town. Upon opening her email, here is what I read:
While reading details concerning her mom's passing in the desert, I absorbed the fact that my friend received this sad news while she and her husband had been enjoying a Mediterranean cruise. My friend (whose mother was flown to the east coast where she was laid to rest next to her late husband) plans to visit family in the desert in June.Hi Annie,I don't know how often you're on Facebook so perhaps you didn't see... I posted a tribute to my mom who passed away on May 4 ...
As this dear friend has adorned my hair with shimmers for several years, her offer to 'shimmer me up' when she's in town warmed my heart, so I replied: I'm rarely on facebook and did not know of your loss until your email arrived. I know you'd have chosen to be with your mother at the end. It must have been hard to receive news of her passing while you were in the middle of the ocean.
Your offer to spend time with me is truly thoughtful and appreciated. If you find that that doesn't work for you, please feel 100% free to change your mind as needs be. As I learned, last year, your most important decision, each day, will be to figure out what YOU need to ease your way forward, suggesting flexibility to be your greatest ally, and as your friend, I'll want to take good care of you.
Feel my hugs across the miles,
Annie
My friend replied:
Thanks, Annie. I'll contact you when I'm in town, and we'll see if it works out for us both.
It's not easy for anyone to gain clarity into accepting that which is beyond our control. However, achieving clarity in order to free our minds of undeserved guilt is essential to gaining and maintaining inner peace at every stage of life, and here's why that proves especially true if we hope to age with grace: Over each person's lifetime, many layers of unprocessed guilt layer up. And the heavy weight of guilt exacerbates grief.
Common sense suggests that with death comes change. As one change leads to another, a series of unexpected changes, which took place in the aftermath of my father's death, confounded my sense of clarity. You see, change breathes life into conflict. Not necessarily new conflict, but rather conflict, which had been swept under the rug, suggesting that it remained unresolved from the past.
While grieving for my dad, 'this fixer' observed defensive attitudes and closed mind sets in need of change within others until I had reason to consult with an astute therapist, who continued to coax me to refocus my quest for clarity upon identifying attitudes and mind sets, which proved to be my own. Eventually, this therapist's patient, non-judgmental attitude guided me to tap into my need to garner the courage to 'Know Myself' more thoroughly than had been true during the 58 years that had come before my father's passing. And over time, I came to see myself as a person who had spent most of my life denying the existence of my own deepest fears.
While working to identify personal fears, which my defense system had thought best to repress within subconscious pockets of my mind when I was a child, the insight seeker was born. And since the astute nature of this therapist continued to coax me to identify and embrace both sides of myself as a whole, my powers of intuitive thought continued to deepen within the safe haven of an emotional environment that did not condemn me for considering my needs to equal the needs of those I love. In fact, with time, I came to see that valuing my needs proved to be the goal that my therapist was gently encouraging this people pleaser to achieve.
If you ask which cardinal rule this change in my attitude was messing with, I'd reply:
Selflessness is next to godliness, suggesting that anything other than selflessness must be selfish. And any time I entertained that which seemed to be a selfish thought, guess what followed? Guilt.
In recent weeks, following my cataract surgeries, I've felt intuition pressuring me to become aware of an unidentified change processing through my think tank, again. Today, I'm wondering if (in addition to adjusting to a pair of brand new eyes) a disorienting sensation of emotional confusion is finally tunneling its way toward clarity in that I'm closing in on pinpointing a mindset, which has been transitioning toward change for the better, over these past several years.
Though I've consciously known myself to be a good person, a sense of inner conflict has held my peace of mind captive in a 'bad' place, subconsciously. Why? Because each time I create the merest hint of conflict by voicing my needs, I feel bad. Reflection suggests that this has been true since my sister died, and my mom depressed when I was three. Each time I voice a need that makes a loved one frown, I feel rejected. Each time I 'cause' a smile to turn upside down, I reject myself. My sense of inner peace has wrestled to free itself from an unprocessed a state of subconscious confusion. I mean, picture a three year old thought processor struggling to comprehend a conundrum as complex as this! Upon reflection, it's no wonder that my insight seeker felt driven to quest into self discovery once the thought processor of a good, little girl grew up.
Though that insight into my dilemma is not new to me, here is what has crystallized recently: I can clearly expand my view of the conundrum that caught my sense of inner peace in a constant state of catch 22. Whenever I'd faced the choice of voicing or silencing my needs, inner conflict flared, suggesting no sense of peace, here or there. As life and change and conflict are the norm, it's plain to see how frequently inner conflict tore a good girl's intelligent mind in half. As long as this dilemma remained subconsciously unprocessed, life felt 'easier' when I swallowed my needs with a smile until, over time, many of my needs seemed to disappear—when in truth, they'd layered up in a tightly coiled, defensively repressed state. At three, if I'd made so much as one wave while tidal waves of grief crashed our leaky ship against the rocks, any impatience on the part of devastated adults caused me to feel tossed overboard—unworthy of receiving love ... Unless I 'acted' selfless. Eventually, selfless decisions grew into a habit, and it's quite difficult to repair the adult brain's habitual patterns.
So much for giving is better than receiving—suggesting that no rule—inclusive of golden rules—is meant to be black and white.
At this moment in time, my brain feels weary of questing toward understanding my relationship with the black and white nature of cardinal rules, which cause us to feel selflessness is good, suggesting that those who don't strive to achieve unattainable ideals must guilt themselves as being bad. And seen in that light, insight suggests that expecting perfection of oneself (or our loved ones) proves utterly unrealistic and exhaustingly preposterous, right? And yet, we expect that very thing, repeatedly.
Though I've consciously known myself to be a good person, a sense of inner conflict has held my peace of mind captive in a 'bad' place, subconsciously. Why? Because each time I create the merest hint of conflict by voicing my needs, I feel bad. Reflection suggests that this has been true since my sister died, and my mom depressed when I was three. Each time I voice a need that makes a loved one frown, I feel rejected. Each time I 'cause' a smile to turn upside down, I reject myself. My sense of inner peace has wrestled to free itself from an unprocessed a state of subconscious confusion. I mean, picture a three year old thought processor struggling to comprehend a conundrum as complex as this! Upon reflection, it's no wonder that my insight seeker felt driven to quest into self discovery once the thought processor of a good, little girl grew up.
Though that insight into my dilemma is not new to me, here is what has crystallized recently: I can clearly expand my view of the conundrum that caught my sense of inner peace in a constant state of catch 22. Whenever I'd faced the choice of voicing or silencing my needs, inner conflict flared, suggesting no sense of peace, here or there. As life and change and conflict are the norm, it's plain to see how frequently inner conflict tore a good girl's intelligent mind in half. As long as this dilemma remained subconsciously unprocessed, life felt 'easier' when I swallowed my needs with a smile until, over time, many of my needs seemed to disappear—when in truth, they'd layered up in a tightly coiled, defensively repressed state. At three, if I'd made so much as one wave while tidal waves of grief crashed our leaky ship against the rocks, any impatience on the part of devastated adults caused me to feel tossed overboard—unworthy of receiving love ... Unless I 'acted' selfless. Eventually, selfless decisions grew into a habit, and it's quite difficult to repair the adult brain's habitual patterns.
So much for giving is better than receiving—suggesting that no rule—inclusive of golden rules—is meant to be black and white.
At this moment in time, my brain feels weary of questing toward understanding my relationship with the black and white nature of cardinal rules, which cause us to feel selflessness is good, suggesting that those who don't strive to achieve unattainable ideals must guilt themselves as being bad. And seen in that light, insight suggests that expecting perfection of oneself (or our loved ones) proves utterly unrealistic and exhaustingly preposterous, right? And yet, we expect that very thing, repeatedly.
Having expended so much brain power working to know (both sides of) myself' ...
Perhaps it's time for me to switch tracks and just Be Myself' for a while
And now that that flash of insight has
Popped naturally out of my wearied think tank
It seems likely that my strong sense of intuition has been creating
It seems likely that my strong sense of intuition has been creating
A new pathway for neurons to travel, which will offer me safe passage while
My conscious mind continues to process this change for the better in my attitude:
My conscious mind continues to process this change for the better in my attitude:
Rather than working endlessly to KNOW myself, it's time to
Rest the weary SOLUTION SEEKER and simply BE myself ...
Rest the weary SOLUTION SEEKER and simply BE myself ...
And as one insight leads to the next ...
I have a feeling that intuition has been coaxing me to
Retire from brainstorming at least for a while in order to
RELAX all sense of tension, born of inner conflict, which
My brain has carried like a monkey on my back since
My sister died when I was three, and
Once my conscious mind releases subconscious guilt, which
Layered up every time I chose to
Voice needs, which proved of value to me
I'll enjoy BEING the GOOD person I KNOW myself to be ...
My brain has carried like a monkey on my back since
My sister died when I was three, and
Once my conscious mind releases subconscious guilt, which
Layered up every time I chose to
Voice needs, which proved of value to me
I'll enjoy BEING the GOOD person I KNOW myself to be ...
PS
Though those who love, respect and appreciate my strengths
Have implored me to lighten up on myself for years, I've had need to
Heed intuition coaxing my conscious mind to identify
Subconscious mindsets that cluttered my brain with excess baggage, which
Has weighed heavy upon my heart and spirit ever since
Childhood tragedy caused me to struggle with unprocessed PTSD
Heed intuition coaxing my conscious mind to identify
Subconscious mindsets that cluttered my brain with excess baggage, which
Has weighed heavy upon my heart and spirit ever since
Childhood tragedy caused me to struggle with unprocessed PTSD
Now that my think tank has brainstormed toward connecting
The dots conjoining countless strings of insight into that which
May be defined as an identity crises, I've developed
The hindsight to link together self conceived misperceptions, which
Made me feel like a bad little girl every time I chose to
Honor and respect my needs over the needs of others, and thus has
The dots conjoining countless strings of insight into that which
May be defined as an identity crises, I've developed
The hindsight to link together self conceived misperceptions, which
Made me feel like a bad little girl every time I chose to
Honor and respect my needs over the needs of others, and thus has
The weight of countless layers of undeserved guilt interfered with
My sense of clarity, which proves necessary to embrace
The good hearted adult whom I consciously choose to be—WHEW!
My sense of clarity, which proves necessary to embrace
The good hearted adult whom I consciously choose to be—WHEW!
Regardless of how I have been seen by others
My readiness to work at clearing
My mind of inner conflict, concerning
My acceptance of human imperfections
Had need to gain insight into lightening
Had need to gain insight into lightening
My darkened self perceptions before I could free
The good hearted adult whom I consciously choose to be of
The good hearted adult whom I consciously choose to be of
Undeserved guilt, carried forth since childhood, and
Tis time to release my whole brain to relax and enjoy
A much needed rest in hopes that upon
Refreshing my energy source, I'll feel such an abundance of
Self respect rise from within my depths as to
Rejoice in the knowledge that upon voicing my needs
My voice will feel free of undeserved guilt, at last—WHEW!
As to posts written last week, which have not yet been published
Emotions exposed in those posts do not feel nearly as
Complex, raw and private as had been true, at first
However, here is why those posts will remain unpublished for a while:
Complex, raw and private as had been true, at first
However, here is why those posts will remain unpublished for a while:
They were written at a time when emotional complexity created
Sentence structure so complex as to be in need of serious revision if
Communicating with clarity is my goal, and
Sentence structure so complex as to be in need of serious revision if
Communicating with clarity is my goal, and
At this point in time, my brain feels far too weary to begin to
Tackle the feat of that editing process, and so, with that said
I'll rest my mind until intuitive thought signals 'my' need to
Field the challenge of mental stimulation, again ...
As for now, I'll do little more than rest in hopes of
Readying my spirit to welcome this weekend's house guest ...
Tackle the feat of that editing process, and so, with that said
I'll rest my mind until intuitive thought signals 'my' need to
Field the challenge of mental stimulation, again ...
As for now, I'll do little more than rest in hopes of
Readying my spirit to welcome this weekend's house guest ...
Friday, May 22, 2015
1325 THANK GOODNESS FOR SECOND THOUGHT
2015
Whoops! Looks like my first thought was not my best thought, again!
It seems that this Fixer is not ready to retire as fully, as I'd surmised
What I have retired from is trying to fix that which is broken in others ... unless
Others, asking for guidance, are ready to steer their ships
Out of a fog toward The Cape of Good Hope where all aboard recognize
The need to brainstorm toward change for the better by
Focusing in on positive plans of action aimed at resolving conflicts in
Such a self-disciplined manner as to bring everyone involved safely ashore
What I won't do is dive into the midst of a maelstrom, where
Captain and crew, flailing around, angrily, sink all hope of
Conciliatory conflict resolution by seeking a scapegoat to blame when
Tidal waves of emotion capsize every tug boat that has failed to
Pull dissenting opinions—concerning who is most at fault—to shore
As to fixing the world, well
Guess what I just read in this month's Reader Digest?
An article titled: The World Is Not Falling Apart
Quoting Steven Pinker and Andrew Mack, co-authors of said article:
"Poverty, crime and violence are down
Freedom and Democracy Are Up"
Suggesting reason to retire attitudes of gloom and doom, reminiscent of
Chicken Little, in favor of relating true tales, concerning
Simple plans of action that served to resolve conflicts in a
Win/win fashion, resulting in a lasting sense of
Mutual respect, which developed, over time, amongst our family of five ...
And once those stories have been posted
There's no telling which series of posts may pop up next?
Whoops! Looks like my first thought was not my best thought, again!
It seems that this Fixer is not ready to retire as fully, as I'd surmised
What I have retired from is trying to fix that which is broken in others ... unless
Others, asking for guidance, are ready to steer their ships
Out of a fog toward The Cape of Good Hope where all aboard recognize
The need to brainstorm toward change for the better by
Focusing in on positive plans of action aimed at resolving conflicts in
Such a self-disciplined manner as to bring everyone involved safely ashore
What I won't do is dive into the midst of a maelstrom, where
Captain and crew, flailing around, angrily, sink all hope of
Conciliatory conflict resolution by seeking a scapegoat to blame when
Tidal waves of emotion capsize every tug boat that has failed to
Pull dissenting opinions—concerning who is most at fault—to shore
As to fixing the world, well
Guess what I just read in this month's Reader Digest?
An article titled: The World Is Not Falling Apart
Quoting Steven Pinker and Andrew Mack, co-authors of said article:
"Poverty, crime and violence are down
Freedom and Democracy Are Up"
Suggesting reason to retire attitudes of gloom and doom, reminiscent of
Chicken Little, in favor of relating true tales, concerning
Simple plans of action that served to resolve conflicts in a
Win/win fashion, resulting in a lasting sense of
Mutual respect, which developed, over time, amongst our family of five ...
And once those stories have been posted
There's no telling which series of posts may pop up next?
I mean, who knows when my comfort zone may feel ready to
Expand so naturally as to allow high school stories to
Slide right out of my memory onto your screen and mine ...
And referencing 'readiness for comfort zones to expand'
Expand so naturally as to allow high school stories to
Slide right out of my memory onto your screen and mine ...
And referencing 'readiness for comfort zones to expand'
Reminds me of posts penned last week, which
Have yet to be published for public consumption...
As for now, I'm off to my last appointment with my eye surgeon
Followed by attending an afternoon retirement party, honoring
A dear friend's forty year teaching career
Followed by celebrating Will's birthday at dinner, tonight
Followed by house guests arriving, tomorrow ...
And with that said, I'll end today's train of thought on this upbeat note ...
As for now, I'm off to my last appointment with my eye surgeon
Followed by attending an afternoon retirement party, honoring
A dear friend's forty year teaching career
Followed by celebrating Will's birthday at dinner, tonight
Followed by house guests arriving, tomorrow ...
And with that said, I'll end today's train of thought on this upbeat note ...
Ain't life grand—more often than not!
Wednesday, May 20, 2015
1324 LOOKING FORWARD TO DOCKING MY SENSE OF PERSONAL SAFETY AS SOON AS MY SHIP COMES IN...
More horoscopic musings ...
This new moon is spring-cleaning heyday. It's not just about ridding the pantry of out-dated items; it's also about renewing your soul.
Are your expectations realistic? If you're frustrated, brainstorm until an adjustment, made on your part, fits the sweet spot where expectation meets reality, head on.
Your skills may seem arbitrary to you, and sometimes you think they don't matter to anyone outside of your little corner of the world. Not true!
Compliments are gifts you sometimes feel awkward accepting with grace, so shift the focus back to the graciousness of the one doing the complimenting.
Cultivating a content and thankful spirit can seem diametrically opposed to your ambitious quest. But it's really not, because your main goal is to graciously appreciate that which may have seemed imperfect at first glance.
It's weird how the smallest things can fill and expand your heart as big as a hot air balloon, which sets your spirit to sail across the cloudless sky of your mind. This all happens for one reason: You notice what others may miss.
When you lose your cellular connection to a loved one, it's not because the other person isn't there, wanting to talk to you. It's just outside interference clamoring inside your noggin. Clear your head and call again.
The old saying goes: Fall down seven times, stand up eight ...
2015
Speaking to myself:
When intuition whispers that you're losing connection with your deepest self—call again. And again. And again. Until deeper truth picks up the phone.
NGU (never give up) brainstorming toward deeper truth until your spirit feels so re-energized as to fly free of undeserved guilt incurred during childhood. Actually, that's what I'm doing, right now, while penning today's post—working to fully absolve myself. Declaring the child within free of undeserved guilt. So what's the catch? It's one thing to know myself innocent. Another to feel the innocence of the child I was, through and through.
You see, I awoke, today, feeling depleted of energy, which has been focused on monitering the host of raw emotions, long buried alive, which continue to reawaken and haunt my peace of mind, from time to time. As hard as I've worked to clear this manifestation of disruptive confusion, born of unprocessed memories, which fog my sense of clarity, I've awaken, recently, feeling a sense of pressured 'waiting' weighing heavy on my spirit—kind of like anticipating a sense of closure, which follows in the aftermath of a funeral.
If you ask what I'm waiting for, clarity would reply: Tuesday. Next Tuesday.
Why next Tuesday? Well, hopefully, during my next scheduled session of EMDR, my therapist and I will brainstorm until my conscious mind taps into a subconscious sense of guilt from which the vulnerable child within has been begging me for release of all sense of accountability. And while the knowledgable adult I've grown to be holds alternating buzzers in each hand, I will empower myself to grant the child I once was freedom from shame as every portion of my brain grows ever more aware of my need to create a new pathway for neurons to travel while listening to my therapist ask:
What's the bad feeling you have about yourself, Annie?
I feel my participation in shameful acts during my childhood was so unforgivably bad that I must have been unworthy of love!
What do you want to feel about yourself?
I was a terrified child. Confused. So eager to please, I was obedient to a fault. But not bad. I was innocent of wrong doing. The fault lays with the adult whose perverse sense of pleasure took advantage of my innocence, vulnerability and inexperience with life. I was, in fact, as good during childhood as I have grown to be a good woman. Imperfect, yes, but really good, all the same.
As our hour long session of EMDR continues, my therapist will guide my mind forward as I work at adjusting feelings of self perceived guilt until my new found sense of clarity relieves the child—held hostage within a 'bad' place—of wrong doing, once and for all.
Ever since my sister Janet's death when I was three, I did not feel free to reveal any word or emotion that might cause my parents' smiles to frown. In order to ensure that I did not threaten their sense of personal peace, my defense system elected me 'family peace keeper'. As keeper of the peace, I repressed any experience that felt painful or scared me out of my wits. And until recent years, that sense of repression remained captive within a suspended state of subconscious denial until a therapist suggested my need of EMDR therapy.
Over most of my life, I could not say no to anyone who expressed need of help. (Remember me? I brought strangers home from the coffee shop and airport.) If I had to say no, my empathetic response apologized profusely, and generally speaking, I gave myself a hard time. To a lesser extent, that's true to this very day. As I could not voice my problems, I could not ask for help, meaning that I was stuck with self-conceived misperceptions for most of my life. As to accepting compliments, my self-devaluation squirmed with discomfort. Hopefully, my next session of EMDR will rebalance my sense of wrong-doing when I choose to consider my personal needs over servicing the needs of others. As to growing graciously receptive to compliments, well, I'm working on that.
Since mum was the word for every emotional reaction that swallowed my smile, today's train of thought—concerning emotional repression—allows us to connect the dots between my subconscious need to 'stuff' fear, fury and a host of personal needs from the time of Janet's death right up until a dozen years ago when every one of those unidentified needs and unprocessed wounds began to filter into my conscious mind after my father had been laid to rest at which time a series of confounding events caused PTSD, which had not yet been diagnosed to errupt.
You see, it was during the decade separating my parents' deaths that my powers of intuition began to whisper of subconscious secrets, which had pressured my conscious mind to acknowledge the rawness of emotional wounds and unmet needs, buried alive behind my wall of denial. And once these secrets proceeded to hammer at my wall of denial, I had a pounding headache that just wouldn't quit.
Soon after Dad's death, I felt an intuitive need to ask my mom lots of questions. And so, at the age of 87 years young, Mom divulged that which had transpired with her mother after our family had suffered Janet's traumatic loss. (More about that in a paragraph, below) If you ask if there was any particular reason that led me to ask question after question while Mom and I swayed back and forth on my patio swing, I'd reply: Yes. Each time I said Janet's name aloud—I cried. And that had never happened throughout my entire life.
As deeply buried wounds, fears and needs persisted in filtering, ever so determinedly, through holes in my wall of denial, my conscious need to comprehend much that felt confounding inspired me to seek out a therapist, who encouraged me to pay mind to my need to strengthen my sense of clarity—most especially when he considered the fact that life's harshest realities had influenced my decision-making process—in that I could not say no—and that's what kick started my search for knowledge, concerning the complex nature of the brain's interrelated parts.
As knowledge is power, I garnered my connection to courage and readied myself to absorb deeper truths, which harvested a host of self conceived misperceptions. And as time passed, I came to see that a good little girl deserved to feel free of self-imposed guilt, and resultant of creating this new path for neurons to travel, my self-assessment will rebalance, at long last. WHEW!
Having written this portion of today's stream of consciousness, we can see why my brain's repetitive refrain of certain words has felt such a compelling need to express my growing sense of clarity in post after post until my perception of that which has ached inside my deepest self felt crystal clear to my conscious mind. If you ask: Annie, what has come clear? The answer to that which had riddled me with fear will be revealed in several posts, penned last week, which, feeling ultra personal, have not yet been published for public consumption. When will they be published? Once my comfort zone expands.
See how complex the interactive functions of our brains prove to be? With patience, curiosity, determination, resilience, positive focus, courage and time, everything that did not seem even remotely connected, at first, has come together, creating today's bigger picture, which—offering my sense of clarity a rebalanced vision that clears the child within of every vestige of self inflicted guilt—replaces the foggy sense of wrong doing that weighed so heavy on my spirit as to have influenced decisions that hindsight suggests were not in my best interests, at all. And having clarified how fear 'chose' to deny me access to grieving, openly, about deeply personal needs that fell to the wayside as a foggy sense of undeserved guilt carved my path, everything intuition compelled me to write, repeatedly, in posts, over these past five years, makes sense. Big Sigh!
The study of psychology agrees that there is no pain worse than
Losing your child except for being blamed for your child's death
When my mother's pain, confusion and fury concerning
The most brutal aspects of reality grew too overwhelming for
Her sanity to contain, her spirit collapsed under
The insurmountable weight of the secret she'd hidden from my dad—forever
As you may remember:
My father's beloved wife chose not to reveal the pronouncement of
Guilt with which my grandma had pierced her daughter's heart, because
My Mom knew that Dad would have tossed his mother-in-law and
Her baggage out the door—
However, I was present when hot tempered fights between
My mother and her mother had reason to escalate, and
As my deeply confounded, terrified
Three year old mind witnessed wounding nature of grief exacerbated by
Unexpected stabs of undeserved guilt, which compounded
Emotional turmoil, which confounded my unprocessed sense of
Irretrievable loss as senseless blame, repressed fury, clinical depression
Denial, unconditional love and the rebirth of new life (Lauren)
Came together within the space of one year, between
My third and fourth birthdays ... I remember
Hiding in the front hall closet until doors slammed and
Shouting transformed into muffled crying, and though
I could not fathom the meaning of whatever had been said—
I couldn't stand to see my mother so distraught as to
Take to her bed, and most likely, that's when
The depth of my empathy for the pain of others developed
Into a sensitivity that overwhelmed my sense of balance, because
Over most of my life, I've had trouble distinguishing
The pain of others from my own
And though my father's home coming, each night
Embraced me within the safety net of his love, saving me from
That which had felt like a burning inferno, and
Though a child's spirit is thought to be resilient—
The egocentric nature of a child's mind is known to assume
A personal sense of guilt for anything that causes pain to
The adults we love—sooo feeling that I must have
Done 'something' so bad as to have lost
A severely depressed parent's love devastated
The budding development of my self esteem ...
And since most of that which I'd heard made no sense to
The self absorbed state of a young child's mind, my
Thought processor absorbed misperceptions that deemed me
Guilty of causing my mom pain, and as misshapen mind sets
Solidify to stone, over time, each self-invoked misperception
Had need to be identified, re-evaluated, straightened out, re-channeled and
Reprocessed before my personal sense of safety could begin to undergo
Change for the better—and thus have I've worked, single-mindedly to
Redevelop a wholly rebalanced sense of myself as
A good little girl, who deserves an enduring place of endearment within
My adult memory bank—free of subconscious ghosts that had
Haunted my well-being, causing my sense of self to bow my head in shame
*With my sister Lauren's birth, Mom's spirit revived and so did mine ...
However PTSD can lay as dormant as a fully cocked loaded gun until
Another harsh reality aims that gun at your sense of sanity, and
Anything feeling remotely similar to the self degradation, which
My defense system had 'successfully' repressed during that horrendous year
Triggered subconscious waves of PTSD, which, being unprocessed
Shot holes into my conscious mind's ability to
Comprehend those times when repressed fear of yesteryear's shame
Compromised the clarity of my adult intelligence ...
And not until a therapist coaxed me to work with a colleague trained in
EMDR therapy could my adult intelligence begin to reprocess
Deeper truth into the true nature of memories, which had
Overwhelmed a terrified child, whose vulnerable mind had been unable
To process emotional complexity, resultant in my absorbing
A confounded sense of myself during one of life's most
Crucial stages of personality development
Over these past five years, you and I have watched
The intuitive portion of my brain backtrack, repeatedly, over
Terrifying situations, which derailed the natural development of
My self esteem, and not until I engaged in EMDR therapy
Could I give voice to my need of help
With EMDR therapy, I've learned to focus my
Adult intelligence upon creating new pathways for neurons to
Transport the injured portion of my self esteem from
One station to the next, and in order to unpack each raw wound, which
Had been buried alive, you and I have traversed
Back and forth across the time line until
My comprehension of confounding events, which had
Stunted the development of my self respect, made
Crystal clear sense of situations, which had heaped
Undeserved guilt upon my head—most especially
During these past dozen years
And having worked, single-mindedly, to iron out
Wrinkles in time in hopes of recreating
A straight line that connects the dots conjoining
The undeveloped thought processor of a three year old tot with
The insight-driven sensitives of the woman I've chosen to grow up to be
Common sense (and a new wave of psychological thought) suggests
That no one, inclusive of wounded warriors returning from
Gruesome battlefields can fully recover on their own from PTSD without
Consciously choosing to accept astutely attentive, professional help, trained in EMDR
And with that said, if you feel inclined to ask:
Annie, doesn't your spirit ever get sick of analyzing your reactions to death?
I'd REPLY—YES! YES! YES! A thousand times— YES!
The alternative (of watching my spirit get sucked repeatedly, into a 'bad' place)
Suggests that relieving my memory of undeserved guilt by
Focusing my conscious mind toward becoming
An accomplished deep sea diver has been worth every minute of
Time, energy and effort expended upon excavating
Repressed pain and fury in order to watch myself surface with gains in
Inner peace, which proves too precious a treasure to measure
Once my adult comprehension has completed constructing a new pathway for neurons to transport my inner child's (bad) memories away from that unprocessed path where undeserved guilt snarls at my self esteem, she and I will conjoin. And once conjoined, she and I will have sound reason to rejoice as one in celebration of our hard won sense of freedom.
As each negatively focused, outdated, subconscious mind set adjusts to match my newly rebalanced sense of self awareness, my connection to reality will clearly redirect my mind, body and spirit to sail free of yesteryear's emotional fog toward the shoreline where the white flag of recovery has been waving in the warm breeze, beckoning all sides of me to reconnect more openly than had been possible (when repression of fear of rejection had falsely felt like my refuge from suffering emotional pain) with everyone whose love and support has been waiting, eagerly, to welcome my sense of personal safety home. Quadruple WHEW!
Ultimately, as reprocessed depths of self awareness remain fully engaged with my newly absorbed sense of self-induced mental release, my whole brain will finally feel ready to refocus on functioning with a lasting sense of balance (between logic and emotion) intact. And with balance intact, I'll enjoy each day as it unfolds—imperfect as life may be—without feeling fearsomely haunted by ghosts of years past. For heavens sake! I've just tossed my crutch aside, while summing up my own Tiny Tim tale!
Gosh—I've never written those words before:
'THE END of my quest' ...
I've visualized my life-long quest for clarity in terms of endless trains of thought tunneling toward endless strings of insight spotlighting tidal waves of repressed emotion crashing against my wall of denial, necessitating my mind to build life rafts of common sense upon which to climb after ocean dives surface with buried treasure once my mind has mined successfully toward deeper truths, which—though proving spiritually enriching—are actually, utterly exhausting—OMG—I believe this is the first time I've actually visualized THE END of my quest—not for deeper truth, but rather for personal safety, which had been lost when I was a tot. And it's been said that that which we can picture ourselves accomplishing, we can achieve ... and Amen to that!
It's a good thing that I have lots of juicy stories waiting to be written, concerning the development of five brainstorming tools, which provided our family with solutions that resolved conflicts, effectively, all around—otherwise this next series of posts—recently written though not yet published—might lead us straight toward THE END of my blog just as this last season of MAD MEN closed up Don Draper's creative shop, earlier in the week—and if you ask what I think the main message—which had been brilliantly strung through each season of writing that series has attempted to clarify for viewers throughout the world, I'll bow to Robert Bianco, a newspaper columnist, who wrote:
"Only mad men think they can control the universe."
And to that brilliant, one sentence wrap up, I'd like to add:
Only mad men and women think we can control—our own little corner of the world—it's task enough to figure out what takes place inside our own brains before our time on earth runs out.
Quoting Bianco, again:
"As frustrating as (life can be) there's also a freedom if you're willing to embrace it. Let go of demands and expectations. Stop trying to guess how the show will end and just ... sit back, relax and cede control. It's the only sane thing to do."
My God—it's been so hard to retire The Fixer when so many rely on my intelligence to solve problems that stymie their sense of logic. In truth, I had no clue that my adoption of the role of fixer created the life raft upon which an abundance of my personal sense of safety relied. I mean, as long as my presence kept everyone's head above water, I'd not be rejected or unloved—right?
Then came the time when storms blew in from all sides at once, and as steering myself through 'the perfect storm' caused this fixer's mind and spirit to feel worn to the bone (and you can take that literally, because my muscles grew so tense while working through confusion and fear as to choke my throat and being unable to swallow, I dropped 15 pounds, which I did not have to spare, in no time flat), and guess what happened, after that? Once I couldn't 'fix' this or that—or anything for that matter, other than myself—I was rejected just as I'd feared by those who'd thought to know me well but couldn't know me any more deeply than I had known myself. (Did you sense the spirit of Socrates, swooshing down from on high to perch on my shoulder and give me a thumbs up while whispering—Know Thyself, Annie—just now?)
As for today—those who do not fear looking into themselves know me full well. Those whose mind sets remain stonily ensconced behind their own walls of denial perceive badly of me to this very day, because their perception is their reality—so let's change that to: their misperception is their reality.
And so, just as with Don Draper, who actually never left Dick behind—I, too, had need of figuring out how to grow every more inquisitive, introspective and finally receptive to accepting love's heaven-sent purity as well as life's brutal realities that make us feel as though we've somehow stumbled into the burning flames of hell.
In short, I can fix a lot about myself. But when it comes to fixing a problem 'owned' by you, here's what I'll do: I'll do my best to cheer you up when you feel down and support you as you adventure forward as well as I'm able, but I'll not work my mind and spirit to the bone in hopes of freeing anyone's mind from denial but my own. Been there, done that to no avail.
Thank goodness, the teacher in me feels a compelling need to share success stories with you, suggesting that we can expect a detailed series of true tales to pop up, one after another, once the pathways of my mind have been cleared of yesteryear's emotional debris, which has caused my processor to detour away from describing my quest toward insight into the creation of five brainstorming tools that saved each person in my family from fighting (defensively and disrespectfully) for domination and control ... and when I tell these stories, my sentences will not be made of stream of consciousness that run on forever—and you can count on that.
Since today's post has offered the intuitive portion of my brain reason to brainstorm toward changing my mind set from pulling boxcars, filled with endless strings of insights, into endless stations in favor of steering my shipshape mind into the dock where personal safety awaits to welcome me ashore, I don't feel nearly as emotionally drained and mentally exhausted as was true when this post began to write itself, several hours ago ... and
As it's Tuesday, I'm inclined to check on line to find a light-hearted movie, because intelligence tells me that absorbing a mind provoking period drama will not be in keeping with buoying my spirit, today ... (For clarity's sake, please note that this post was written, yesterday, published, today :)
This new moon is spring-cleaning heyday. It's not just about ridding the pantry of out-dated items; it's also about renewing your soul.
Are your expectations realistic? If you're frustrated, brainstorm until an adjustment, made on your part, fits the sweet spot where expectation meets reality, head on.
Your skills may seem arbitrary to you, and sometimes you think they don't matter to anyone outside of your little corner of the world. Not true!
Compliments are gifts you sometimes feel awkward accepting with grace, so shift the focus back to the graciousness of the one doing the complimenting.
Cultivating a content and thankful spirit can seem diametrically opposed to your ambitious quest. But it's really not, because your main goal is to graciously appreciate that which may have seemed imperfect at first glance.
It's weird how the smallest things can fill and expand your heart as big as a hot air balloon, which sets your spirit to sail across the cloudless sky of your mind. This all happens for one reason: You notice what others may miss.
When you lose your cellular connection to a loved one, it's not because the other person isn't there, wanting to talk to you. It's just outside interference clamoring inside your noggin. Clear your head and call again.
The old saying goes: Fall down seven times, stand up eight ...
2015
Speaking to myself:
When intuition whispers that you're losing connection with your deepest self—call again. And again. And again. Until deeper truth picks up the phone.
NGU (never give up) brainstorming toward deeper truth until your spirit feels so re-energized as to fly free of undeserved guilt incurred during childhood. Actually, that's what I'm doing, right now, while penning today's post—working to fully absolve myself. Declaring the child within free of undeserved guilt. So what's the catch? It's one thing to know myself innocent. Another to feel the innocence of the child I was, through and through.
You see, I awoke, today, feeling depleted of energy, which has been focused on monitering the host of raw emotions, long buried alive, which continue to reawaken and haunt my peace of mind, from time to time. As hard as I've worked to clear this manifestation of disruptive confusion, born of unprocessed memories, which fog my sense of clarity, I've awaken, recently, feeling a sense of pressured 'waiting' weighing heavy on my spirit—kind of like anticipating a sense of closure, which follows in the aftermath of a funeral.
If you ask what I'm waiting for, clarity would reply: Tuesday. Next Tuesday.
Why next Tuesday? Well, hopefully, during my next scheduled session of EMDR, my therapist and I will brainstorm until my conscious mind taps into a subconscious sense of guilt from which the vulnerable child within has been begging me for release of all sense of accountability. And while the knowledgable adult I've grown to be holds alternating buzzers in each hand, I will empower myself to grant the child I once was freedom from shame as every portion of my brain grows ever more aware of my need to create a new pathway for neurons to travel while listening to my therapist ask:
What's the bad feeling you have about yourself, Annie?
I feel my participation in shameful acts during my childhood was so unforgivably bad that I must have been unworthy of love!
What do you want to feel about yourself?
I was a terrified child. Confused. So eager to please, I was obedient to a fault. But not bad. I was innocent of wrong doing. The fault lays with the adult whose perverse sense of pleasure took advantage of my innocence, vulnerability and inexperience with life. I was, in fact, as good during childhood as I have grown to be a good woman. Imperfect, yes, but really good, all the same.
As our hour long session of EMDR continues, my therapist will guide my mind forward as I work at adjusting feelings of self perceived guilt until my new found sense of clarity relieves the child—held hostage within a 'bad' place—of wrong doing, once and for all.
Ever since my sister Janet's death when I was three, I did not feel free to reveal any word or emotion that might cause my parents' smiles to frown. In order to ensure that I did not threaten their sense of personal peace, my defense system elected me 'family peace keeper'. As keeper of the peace, I repressed any experience that felt painful or scared me out of my wits. And until recent years, that sense of repression remained captive within a suspended state of subconscious denial until a therapist suggested my need of EMDR therapy.
Over most of my life, I could not say no to anyone who expressed need of help. (Remember me? I brought strangers home from the coffee shop and airport.) If I had to say no, my empathetic response apologized profusely, and generally speaking, I gave myself a hard time. To a lesser extent, that's true to this very day. As I could not voice my problems, I could not ask for help, meaning that I was stuck with self-conceived misperceptions for most of my life. As to accepting compliments, my self-devaluation squirmed with discomfort. Hopefully, my next session of EMDR will rebalance my sense of wrong-doing when I choose to consider my personal needs over servicing the needs of others. As to growing graciously receptive to compliments, well, I'm working on that.
Since mum was the word for every emotional reaction that swallowed my smile, today's train of thought—concerning emotional repression—allows us to connect the dots between my subconscious need to 'stuff' fear, fury and a host of personal needs from the time of Janet's death right up until a dozen years ago when every one of those unidentified needs and unprocessed wounds began to filter into my conscious mind after my father had been laid to rest at which time a series of confounding events caused PTSD, which had not yet been diagnosed to errupt.
You see, it was during the decade separating my parents' deaths that my powers of intuition began to whisper of subconscious secrets, which had pressured my conscious mind to acknowledge the rawness of emotional wounds and unmet needs, buried alive behind my wall of denial. And once these secrets proceeded to hammer at my wall of denial, I had a pounding headache that just wouldn't quit.
Soon after Dad's death, I felt an intuitive need to ask my mom lots of questions. And so, at the age of 87 years young, Mom divulged that which had transpired with her mother after our family had suffered Janet's traumatic loss. (More about that in a paragraph, below) If you ask if there was any particular reason that led me to ask question after question while Mom and I swayed back and forth on my patio swing, I'd reply: Yes. Each time I said Janet's name aloud—I cried. And that had never happened throughout my entire life.
As deeply buried wounds, fears and needs persisted in filtering, ever so determinedly, through holes in my wall of denial, my conscious need to comprehend much that felt confounding inspired me to seek out a therapist, who encouraged me to pay mind to my need to strengthen my sense of clarity—most especially when he considered the fact that life's harshest realities had influenced my decision-making process—in that I could not say no—and that's what kick started my search for knowledge, concerning the complex nature of the brain's interrelated parts.
As knowledge is power, I garnered my connection to courage and readied myself to absorb deeper truths, which harvested a host of self conceived misperceptions. And as time passed, I came to see that a good little girl deserved to feel free of self-imposed guilt, and resultant of creating this new path for neurons to travel, my self-assessment will rebalance, at long last. WHEW!
Having written this portion of today's stream of consciousness, we can see why my brain's repetitive refrain of certain words has felt such a compelling need to express my growing sense of clarity in post after post until my perception of that which has ached inside my deepest self felt crystal clear to my conscious mind. If you ask: Annie, what has come clear? The answer to that which had riddled me with fear will be revealed in several posts, penned last week, which, feeling ultra personal, have not yet been published for public consumption. When will they be published? Once my comfort zone expands.
See how complex the interactive functions of our brains prove to be? With patience, curiosity, determination, resilience, positive focus, courage and time, everything that did not seem even remotely connected, at first, has come together, creating today's bigger picture, which—offering my sense of clarity a rebalanced vision that clears the child within of every vestige of self inflicted guilt—replaces the foggy sense of wrong doing that weighed so heavy on my spirit as to have influenced decisions that hindsight suggests were not in my best interests, at all. And having clarified how fear 'chose' to deny me access to grieving, openly, about deeply personal needs that fell to the wayside as a foggy sense of undeserved guilt carved my path, everything intuition compelled me to write, repeatedly, in posts, over these past five years, makes sense. Big Sigh!
The study of psychology agrees that there is no pain worse than
Losing your child except for being blamed for your child's death
When my mother's pain, confusion and fury concerning
The most brutal aspects of reality grew too overwhelming for
Her sanity to contain, her spirit collapsed under
The insurmountable weight of the secret she'd hidden from my dad—forever
As you may remember:
My father's beloved wife chose not to reveal the pronouncement of
Guilt with which my grandma had pierced her daughter's heart, because
My Mom knew that Dad would have tossed his mother-in-law and
Her baggage out the door—
However, I was present when hot tempered fights between
My mother and her mother had reason to escalate, and
As my deeply confounded, terrified
Three year old mind witnessed wounding nature of grief exacerbated by
Unexpected stabs of undeserved guilt, which compounded
Emotional turmoil, which confounded my unprocessed sense of
Irretrievable loss as senseless blame, repressed fury, clinical depression
Denial, unconditional love and the rebirth of new life (Lauren)
Came together within the space of one year, between
My third and fourth birthdays ... I remember
Hiding in the front hall closet until doors slammed and
Shouting transformed into muffled crying, and though
I could not fathom the meaning of whatever had been said—
I couldn't stand to see my mother so distraught as to
Take to her bed, and most likely, that's when
The depth of my empathy for the pain of others developed
Into a sensitivity that overwhelmed my sense of balance, because
Over most of my life, I've had trouble distinguishing
The pain of others from my own
And though my father's home coming, each night
Embraced me within the safety net of his love, saving me from
That which had felt like a burning inferno, and
Though a child's spirit is thought to be resilient—
The egocentric nature of a child's mind is known to assume
A personal sense of guilt for anything that causes pain to
The adults we love—sooo feeling that I must have
Done 'something' so bad as to have lost
A severely depressed parent's love devastated
The budding development of my self esteem ...
And since most of that which I'd heard made no sense to
The self absorbed state of a young child's mind, my
Thought processor absorbed misperceptions that deemed me
Guilty of causing my mom pain, and as misshapen mind sets
Solidify to stone, over time, each self-invoked misperception
Had need to be identified, re-evaluated, straightened out, re-channeled and
Reprocessed before my personal sense of safety could begin to undergo
Change for the better—and thus have I've worked, single-mindedly to
Redevelop a wholly rebalanced sense of myself as
A good little girl, who deserves an enduring place of endearment within
My adult memory bank—free of subconscious ghosts that had
Haunted my well-being, causing my sense of self to bow my head in shame
*With my sister Lauren's birth, Mom's spirit revived and so did mine ...
However PTSD can lay as dormant as a fully cocked loaded gun until
Another harsh reality aims that gun at your sense of sanity, and
Anything feeling remotely similar to the self degradation, which
My defense system had 'successfully' repressed during that horrendous year
Triggered subconscious waves of PTSD, which, being unprocessed
Shot holes into my conscious mind's ability to
Comprehend those times when repressed fear of yesteryear's shame
Compromised the clarity of my adult intelligence ...
And not until a therapist coaxed me to work with a colleague trained in
EMDR therapy could my adult intelligence begin to reprocess
Deeper truth into the true nature of memories, which had
Overwhelmed a terrified child, whose vulnerable mind had been unable
To process emotional complexity, resultant in my absorbing
A confounded sense of myself during one of life's most
Crucial stages of personality development
Over these past five years, you and I have watched
The intuitive portion of my brain backtrack, repeatedly, over
Terrifying situations, which derailed the natural development of
My self esteem, and not until I engaged in EMDR therapy
Could I give voice to my need of help
With EMDR therapy, I've learned to focus my
Adult intelligence upon creating new pathways for neurons to
Transport the injured portion of my self esteem from
One station to the next, and in order to unpack each raw wound, which
Had been buried alive, you and I have traversed
Back and forth across the time line until
My comprehension of confounding events, which had
Stunted the development of my self respect, made
Crystal clear sense of situations, which had heaped
Undeserved guilt upon my head—most especially
During these past dozen years
And having worked, single-mindedly, to iron out
Wrinkles in time in hopes of recreating
A straight line that connects the dots conjoining
The undeveloped thought processor of a three year old tot with
The insight-driven sensitives of the woman I've chosen to grow up to be
Common sense (and a new wave of psychological thought) suggests
That no one, inclusive of wounded warriors returning from
Gruesome battlefields can fully recover on their own from PTSD without
Consciously choosing to accept astutely attentive, professional help, trained in EMDR
And with that said, if you feel inclined to ask:
Annie, doesn't your spirit ever get sick of analyzing your reactions to death?
I'd REPLY—YES! YES! YES! A thousand times— YES!
In fact, I'm sick and tired of it, right now!
However, just as with accepting the aging process, graciouslyThe alternative (of watching my spirit get sucked repeatedly, into a 'bad' place)
Suggests that relieving my memory of undeserved guilt by
Focusing my conscious mind toward becoming
An accomplished deep sea diver has been worth every minute of
Time, energy and effort expended upon excavating
Repressed pain and fury in order to watch myself surface with gains in
Inner peace, which proves too precious a treasure to measure
Once my adult comprehension has completed constructing a new pathway for neurons to transport my inner child's (bad) memories away from that unprocessed path where undeserved guilt snarls at my self esteem, she and I will conjoin. And once conjoined, she and I will have sound reason to rejoice as one in celebration of our hard won sense of freedom.
As each negatively focused, outdated, subconscious mind set adjusts to match my newly rebalanced sense of self awareness, my connection to reality will clearly redirect my mind, body and spirit to sail free of yesteryear's emotional fog toward the shoreline where the white flag of recovery has been waving in the warm breeze, beckoning all sides of me to reconnect more openly than had been possible (when repression of fear of rejection had falsely felt like my refuge from suffering emotional pain) with everyone whose love and support has been waiting, eagerly, to welcome my sense of personal safety home. Quadruple WHEW!
Ultimately, as reprocessed depths of self awareness remain fully engaged with my newly absorbed sense of self-induced mental release, my whole brain will finally feel ready to refocus on functioning with a lasting sense of balance (between logic and emotion) intact. And with balance intact, I'll enjoy each day as it unfolds—imperfect as life may be—without feeling fearsomely haunted by ghosts of years past. For heavens sake! I've just tossed my crutch aside, while summing up my own Tiny Tim tale!
Gosh—I've never written those words before:
'THE END of my quest' ...
I've visualized my life-long quest for clarity in terms of endless trains of thought tunneling toward endless strings of insight spotlighting tidal waves of repressed emotion crashing against my wall of denial, necessitating my mind to build life rafts of common sense upon which to climb after ocean dives surface with buried treasure once my mind has mined successfully toward deeper truths, which—though proving spiritually enriching—are actually, utterly exhausting—OMG—I believe this is the first time I've actually visualized THE END of my quest—not for deeper truth, but rather for personal safety, which had been lost when I was a tot. And it's been said that that which we can picture ourselves accomplishing, we can achieve ... and Amen to that!
It's a good thing that I have lots of juicy stories waiting to be written, concerning the development of five brainstorming tools, which provided our family with solutions that resolved conflicts, effectively, all around—otherwise this next series of posts—recently written though not yet published—might lead us straight toward THE END of my blog just as this last season of MAD MEN closed up Don Draper's creative shop, earlier in the week—and if you ask what I think the main message—which had been brilliantly strung through each season of writing that series has attempted to clarify for viewers throughout the world, I'll bow to Robert Bianco, a newspaper columnist, who wrote:
"Only mad men think they can control the universe."
And to that brilliant, one sentence wrap up, I'd like to add:
Only mad men and women think we can control—our own little corner of the world—it's task enough to figure out what takes place inside our own brains before our time on earth runs out.
Quoting Bianco, again:
"As frustrating as (life can be) there's also a freedom if you're willing to embrace it. Let go of demands and expectations. Stop trying to guess how the show will end and just ... sit back, relax and cede control. It's the only sane thing to do."
My God—it's been so hard to retire The Fixer when so many rely on my intelligence to solve problems that stymie their sense of logic. In truth, I had no clue that my adoption of the role of fixer created the life raft upon which an abundance of my personal sense of safety relied. I mean, as long as my presence kept everyone's head above water, I'd not be rejected or unloved—right?
Then came the time when storms blew in from all sides at once, and as steering myself through 'the perfect storm' caused this fixer's mind and spirit to feel worn to the bone (and you can take that literally, because my muscles grew so tense while working through confusion and fear as to choke my throat and being unable to swallow, I dropped 15 pounds, which I did not have to spare, in no time flat), and guess what happened, after that? Once I couldn't 'fix' this or that—or anything for that matter, other than myself—I was rejected just as I'd feared by those who'd thought to know me well but couldn't know me any more deeply than I had known myself. (Did you sense the spirit of Socrates, swooshing down from on high to perch on my shoulder and give me a thumbs up while whispering—Know Thyself, Annie—just now?)
As for today—those who do not fear looking into themselves know me full well. Those whose mind sets remain stonily ensconced behind their own walls of denial perceive badly of me to this very day, because their perception is their reality—so let's change that to: their misperception is their reality.
And so, just as with Don Draper, who actually never left Dick behind—I, too, had need of figuring out how to grow every more inquisitive, introspective and finally receptive to accepting love's heaven-sent purity as well as life's brutal realities that make us feel as though we've somehow stumbled into the burning flames of hell.
In short, I can fix a lot about myself. But when it comes to fixing a problem 'owned' by you, here's what I'll do: I'll do my best to cheer you up when you feel down and support you as you adventure forward as well as I'm able, but I'll not work my mind and spirit to the bone in hopes of freeing anyone's mind from denial but my own. Been there, done that to no avail.
Thank goodness, the teacher in me feels a compelling need to share success stories with you, suggesting that we can expect a detailed series of true tales to pop up, one after another, once the pathways of my mind have been cleared of yesteryear's emotional debris, which has caused my processor to detour away from describing my quest toward insight into the creation of five brainstorming tools that saved each person in my family from fighting (defensively and disrespectfully) for domination and control ... and when I tell these stories, my sentences will not be made of stream of consciousness that run on forever—and you can count on that.
Since today's post has offered the intuitive portion of my brain reason to brainstorm toward changing my mind set from pulling boxcars, filled with endless strings of insights, into endless stations in favor of steering my shipshape mind into the dock where personal safety awaits to welcome me ashore, I don't feel nearly as emotionally drained and mentally exhausted as was true when this post began to write itself, several hours ago ... and
As it's Tuesday, I'm inclined to check on line to find a light-hearted movie, because intelligence tells me that absorbing a mind provoking period drama will not be in keeping with buoying my spirit, today ... (For clarity's sake, please note that this post was written, yesterday, published, today :)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)