95 A REVIEW OF—AH! SWEET MYSTERY OF LIFE—IS IN ORDER BEFORE WE SEE WHAT’S IN STORE FOR ANNIE AND JOSEPH LEFT LIP-LOCKED IN THE ALLEY

IF INSIGHT INTO ANNIE'S INNER LIFE AT THE MOMENT OF HER FIRST KISS SPOTLIGHTS A QUESTION IN NEED OF AN ASTUTE ANSWER THEN WHAT, ‘PREY’ TELL, MIGHT BE THE ILLUSIVE QUESTION IN NEED OF ANSWERING?  

First of all, the illusive question relates to the deeply repressed state of Annie’s primary inner conflict:  To retreat from identifying and confronting spikes of latent anxiety or to muster the courage necessary to patiently identify, openly confront and expunge each emergent spike of subconscious fear, once and for all—that is the question at hand...

If we know that the answer to the last question suggests Annie’s need to muster the courage and patience necessary to calm spikes of anxiety in hopes of awaiting the natural emergence of an intuitive sense of readiness to advance in the face of fear then— 

What is THE problem? 

THE problem, in Annie’s case, is twofold:

At the age of twelve, Annie has no clue whatsoever of the importance of differentiating a sudden spike in anxiety based in a near and present danger closing in from the re-emergence of yesteryear’s unresolved fears stalking her current peace of mind.  (Seriously—how many adults know to do that?)

Secondly, fate has not gifted Annie’s intuitive readiness with time to advance naturally, step by step, at her own pace.  At least not at the age of twelve when sexual readiness in need of ripening is in question.   Why not?

Because, each time the advancement of sexual experimentation is offered to Annie at an age-appropriate stage of her life, an upsurge of fearful-confusion based in inner conflict will arouse this young girl’s survival instinct to cross wires with her brain’s natural pleasure center’s desire to taste young love’s first kiss, and as long as Annie has no conscious clue whatsoever of the fact that deep within her subconscious, the trigger hair arousal of wrestle-mania stands guard to shadow box with repressed fears based in sexual abuse of which she has not even one memory of suffering repeatedly within the clutches of a predatory pedophile—resultant of Annie’s highly combustible, deeply repressed state of negatively charged sexual energy stimulating sudden strikes of latent anxiety to spike, we are about to see what happens when her processor’s defensive reactions, peaking simultaneously with Joseph’s, crash, like a pair of cymbals so discordantly, together, as to offer us sound reason to surmise that once anxiety abounds all around, two heads are not better than one—and with today's string of insights clearly stated here it comes, at last—TRUE LOVE’S FIRST IMPASSIONED KISS:

While standing in the alley, staring down at Annie (whose love struck, dark lashed, blue eyes are undeniably locked into his), a strong young man, suddenly blushing furiously, blurts out:  Annie—Bob is having a party (their sixth grade class’s first ever boy and girl party), and I want you to go with me. 

Needless to say, Annie can't believe her ears.  In fact, she can hardly breathe! First of all,  she's  never been to a boy and girl party.  Secondly, a subconscious flashback of male hysteria sweeping through a van aiming a barrage of insults directly at her body floods her current state of mind with unresolved anxiety, darting so quickly into and out of a sweet girl’s shocked-to-max processor as to set her heart to pounding blood 'arushin' through her body, leaving any calm vestige of comprehension reeling with disbelief concerning the remote possibility of this tall, handsome, popular Leader of the Pack choosing Miss Piggy as his first date, leaving doe-eyed, long legged Hillary and gorgeous from head to toe Viv to fade from his mind whenever Annie’s nearness fills his heart with bliss??? ... on the other hand—

*As long as these wondrous moments of suspended animation leave a pair of brains fated to feel flash frozen within The Land of Heartfelt Enchantment, all connection to logic flies out of both heads suggesting why we're about to observe: 

 A nice boy with nerves a-jangling and a good girl,  seen swooning, swept so wholly under first love's magic spell as to be unable to communicate so much as one word that makes any sense, at all, until, silence, lasting over long, rankles Joseph’s  fear of rejection to spike, suggesting his tenderness for Annie ducking for cover, exposing only explosively combustible emotion readying itself to blow any last fragment of composure to kingdom come—as proves classic whenever love’s magic spell, holding two minds hostage, over long, stimulates anxiety to pierce both hearts to the core so as to unleash at least one strangled voice to spit out defensive words such as these: 

 Annie-do-you-wanna go-with-me-or-not?

As Annie’s processor remains wordless, reeling within her very own, oxygen deprived, spellbound state of shock (how can this miracle be happening to anyone as unattractive as me?), Joseph's boyish hopes, churning defensively into angst darken the whole of his mind so that his sapphire star struck eyes, suddenly flashing with red hot fiery humiliation, fuels his voice to sputter sharply:  

Oh—just forget it!   

At this, Annie’s dazed and confused intelligence stirs just enough to blurt out:  Wait!  I wanna go with you! 

With relief surging hotly through him, Joseph’s build up of cross-wired emotional tension lunges forth, and grasping  Annie's shoulders, he impulsively yanks a dizzied girl against the length of his body—offering us a bird’s eye view of this soon to be star-crossed pair engaging in their very first preteen bear hug, ever, inspiring a twelve year old, man-sized child to pull his head back just enough to plant True Love's First Kiss possessively onto his (brain dead) sweetheart's lips as though marking her his.  

I wish my next words were:  Then, smiling shyly up at Joseph, Annie's spirit sights the blue bird of happiness landing on her shoulder in readiness to guide both lad and lass to float straight toward cloud nine, where they can clearly be seen holding hands, sipping sodas, going steady, being crowned prom queen and king and growing up to live happily ever after (and their children will, too). THE END ... 

Unfortunately that last ride through fantasyland is not what reality has in store for this inexperienced pair as you shall soon see.

Instead of watching these love birds soar up to cloud nine, we’ll witness throes of impassioned reactions splashing repressed angst, back and forth, and being that neither of these tussling preteens has any clue as to how to regain, much less help one another to maintain control over each other's deeply confounding, snow-balling avalanche of repressed emotional release, things go straight from bad to worst!  

As I'm sure you're feeling over ready to see Annie's spontaneous reaction to Captain Hormone's impassioned lip lock, please stay tuned to this channel so as to absorb what happens next, showcasing the little that we can see of emotions running amuck neath the surface of conscious awareness, which is why all hell is about to break loose once this matched set of preteen reactors is fated to slip slide straight down from seven minutes in heaven toward The End of the worst ‘first love’ scene, ever— 

Good Lord—if only Socrates or The Bard had really been soaring overhead, puppy love might have enjoyed at least a light-hearted romp—  

—and if fate had not the heartfelt compassion to conjure up the spirit of one sage or the other, couldn't Cupid, cycling by, have aimed his bow just a bit higher than both hearts so as to shoot a pair of dizzied minds with a bit of knowledge concerning subconscious demons on the loose dueling over 'whose on first'?  Geez! If all the world's a stage then how often must thee and I embody the leads in Romeo and Juliet, Much Ado About Nothing, Othello Or Grease? 

For heaven sake, must egocentric misunderstandings rattle the brains of every young couple, from one generation to the next, including those who marry only to separate at a later date, thus unconsciously injecting their repressed angst into the deeply confused hearts and minds of their kids???  If knowledge empowers change for the better then why isn't someone—who's undertaken a personal quest to understand what's classically going wrong in home after home—sending taste tests of this vital info into cyberspace?  Oh—wait!  That would be me!

HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY! 2019

Though every mom is a mother, every day
Some moms are nurtured more than others on Mother’s Day
And here’s a pair of insights spotlighting why I believe that’s true

The first insight spotlights each child being guided to
Nurture his/her mother’s heart by Mom’s life partner, who models how
Best to love, appreciate and respect each family member’s spirit, every day

The second (and more important) insight spotlights the mother, herself
Role modeling a high degree of self respect while simultaneously loving
Her family with generosity of spirit acting as a barometer to emulate

As each of those insights spoke through my power of intuitive thought to
My conscious awareness at different stages of my Motherhood adventure
My expectations readjusted to match parental signals picked up by my sons

Once expectations match reality, we’re more likely to take note of
That which feels copacetic, all around vs
That which feels in need of cooperative change for the better, all around

So—if you’re feeling deeply appreciated and lovingly respected within your
Family circle, today, then it’s likely that your present expectations are realistically
In sync with whatever is currently being role modeled in your home

However, if (knowing that what goes around comes around) you feel that
Change for the better is in order then may I respectfully suggest that an objective
Examination of your family dynamics may be just what the doctor would prescribe?

Either way, as the sun rises, shines over our heads and sets on today’s holiday
Honoring ‘Mother’s Nature’, please keep this third classic insight in mind:  If your
Heart longs for change for the better, ask—have I given what I hope to receive?

In short, if change is the only constant in life and if all things get better or
Worse but don’t stay the same then it makes sense to say
‘Be the change you wish for the world’ (Gandhi)—starting at home

Sending my wishes for a Happy Mother’s Day throughout cyberspace!
Your friend,
Annie

PS
Even happy families find it rare for everyone to feel content, peaceful and
Relaxed, all at once—for example, let’s consider Ravi (in the photo below) who’d
Fallen peacefully asleep in her stroller before our photo session began and was not
At all happy about being rudely awakened and expected to smile on cue; as to
Ray’s facial expression of angst, we learned why his ready smile was
Nowhere to be found when he’d up chucked all over the ground soon after hearing
The photographer say—Cheeeeese!—and how could any of us have had a clue that
By evening tide, Tony as well as every male role model in the photo below would
Feel the same degree of personal misery (as demonstrated by our sweet
Five year old’s frown) when all of the guys ‘catching’ onto
Whatever airborne virus had distressed Ray’s tummy, were seen taking turns
Worshipping on bent knee before the porcelain god, and thus, though
Ray had seemed uncooperative on the surface, his loving spirit had
Actually withheld much more misery than his tummy’s build up of distress could
Valiantly contain, and as a picture is worth a thousand words, our family photo
Illustrates this classic fact: Much more remains secretly repressed behind
Each person’s defense system’s wall of denial than can be seen until
Unidentified angst, mixing it up with a happily relaxed momentary
Stance, frees each person, who composed the mixed bag of our family photo, to
Feel whole from the inside out—Geez, I had no conscious clue as to where
My power of intuitive thought was planning to lead us, today, until
My think tank  felt inspired from within to copy our
Family photo (shot two years ago), below, followed by scrolling back up to
Insert this last string of insights, which, having been aired, suggests to me that
Every human brain is a Devine Being that works in mysterious ways ...

4 A REPETITIVE DREAM SPEAKS OF PERSONAL GROWTH WHILE I SLEEP

May 11, 2019
Today, upon awakening
Will said I’d yelled louder than ever in the dark of night

Intuition replied:  Last night’s dream tapped into
A long repressed belief that my personal world feels like such
A dangerous place as to have aroused feelings of—guess what?

Protective readiness—not to defend myself but rather—to muster
The courage necessary to write the rest of the story about a young girl in
An alley who, having been grabbed up,  felt like prey, yet again

And here’s what the content of my dream conveys to me—
Two experiences, which feel alike, often prove highly dissimilar, and
In last night’s dream, I’d felt responsible for the welfare of four tots

Who are they?  I believe the quartet appearing my dream is symbolic of
Holding myself subconsciously accountable for overseeing
The safekeeping of my precious trio of grandchildren, Tony, Ray and Ravi

Goodness knows that I’ve experienced sound reason to feel ever more
Self aware of my role as their protector from evil than had been true of loving
Adults, who’d fathomed no clue of harm befalling a sweet little girl, like me

By day, I feel compelled to work toward unlocking doors inside my head while
By night, I’ve repeatedly dreamt of being alone, feeling too terror struck to lock
The front door of my childhood home while a pedophile, outside, turns the knob

I’ve identified the fourth child in last night’s dream as having been ME at
An early stage of my life;  however, the message emanating from within
The repetitive nature of the dream about the pedophile turning the knob has changed

With intuitive readiness guiding today’s courage to approach that door, I’ve been
Unconsciously motivating myself to close in on revealing the full spectrum of
Yesteryear’s emotional reactions, which had been defensively repressed until—now

Though feeling deeply agitated throughout last night’s dream when I couldn’t
Lock the dark specter of evil out of our safe haven, I didn’t scream for HELP
I screamed, assertively—GET AWAY FROM MY DOOR!

See what I mean about two situations seeming similar when they’re not?
Will heard me cry out, assuming my nightmare had indicated terror until
I clarified my dream as expressing today’s courage overcoming yesteryear’s fear

Whew!  Thank you to every therapist who has answered my endless questions
Concerning the complex inner workings of a brain, which, like a Timex, takes
A licking and goes on ticking without clear-eyed positivity running down

DURING AN INNER SQUALL, INSIGHTS FLOAT MY BOAT TO SHORE

Now and then, my inquisitive nature can’t help but wonder as to the depths of encouragement that your spirit may need to ready your mind’s sense of creative productivity to close in on a heartfelt, long range goal, which did not feel possible to achieve until an Aha moment, based in the emergence of a string of insights, inspired an attitudinal change for the better to pop out of your head as proved true for me when I chose to relaunch the last train of thought (penned just before this one) into cyberspace, this morning, after my conscious awareness, feeling utterly immersed in personal need to navigate a deep sea fishing expedition, floated off course away from wherever you may have thought I’d dropped anchor, last night, and as my think tank surfaced far from the shoreline where I'd intended to dock, overnight, my spirit is peaceably beckoning to yours in hopes of coaxing your think tank to float toward this tide pool, which rolled in, this morning, all aglow with fully formed strings of insights shining forth brightly from within an assortment of cockles and oysters that struggled to polish up my last train of thought, which proves so seaworthy of your reconsideration as to set attention-getting bells a-ringing —hear ye hear ye—by proclamation of thy friend, Annie, please be certain not to miss even one lustrous pearl ... (OMG—where did that come from?—LOL!)

3 INSIGHT REVEALS MY SUBCONSCIOUS MISSION IN PENNING MY LIFE STORY

Whereas feelings, being instinctive, are physical in nature  thoughts are mental, so let’s make a mental note of my having decided to pen my life story before insight spotlighted my subconscious mission to clarify those times when instinctive feelings of insecure neediness stimulated my release of The Pleaser within me to meet the needs of others while denying basic needs, which proved to be my own.

Why make this mental note?  Because, as of late, I’ve been consciously giving myself permission to honor my thought processor’s weariness by choosing to retire the pleaser along with the fixer, suggesting that ‘tis change for the better, indeed, to identify my need for downtime before exhaustion sets in, most especially at those times when intuition alerts my connection to courage to compel me to string together additional insights concerning my ongoing process of identifying and healing the current emergence of repressed pain that I’d had no conscious clue of concealing from myself in the surprising aftermath of that which transpired between Joseph and me in the alley when, at the age of twelve, a surge of anxiety, sweeping my swirling processor ever more deeply into the dark recesses of Alice’s rabbit hole, mistook the impassioned lunge of a young boy for the cold hearted pedophile, who had ravaged me.

In short, feelings, being instinctive, just come.  On the other hand, thoughts are based in attitudes, and as attitudes are absorbed, they can change.  To make matters more complicated, thoughts, whether good natured or mean minded, give rise to feelings.  And just as attitudes change (for better or worse), thoughts become more darkly defensive or brightly expansive, and as changing thoughts challenge that which we perceive as being true, our feelings change, too.  Inner conflict is pretty dizzying, right?  If clarity is essential to logic we need to highlight the part insight plays in spotlighting sound reasons for walking a path where growth spurts, leaps of faith and heightening self perceptiveness rightfully identify and challenge personal insecurities absorbed at times when we’d accepted the misjudgments of others for truth ...

With that insight in mind do we come to see why every story I feel need to tell as my saga unfolds will offer up the gift of additional insights spotlighting emotionally repressed pain awaiting reveal to myself before my soulful quest to calm anxiety can actively repair each damaged portion of my self respect, which, having been found lacking in self esteem still chokes back the self assertive portion of my voice, thus thwarting me from meeting with success by way of unconsciously crashing into a moment of subconscious self destruction before my current level of self confident readiness to confront the reality of yet another self disparaging pattern thought, buried alive, is clarified within the conscious portion of my mind.  Whew!  The complexity of this paragraph may be in need of more work once my current state of inner tension feels less mentally taxed, more physically relaxed.

Ah—sweet patience, if only thee could become consistently calm, through and through, insight would emerge from behind my wall of defensive denial with less struggle so as to ease my way through inner conflict.  As my capacity to tolerate emotional struggle with patience comes to feel ever less mentally challenging (ever more physically relaxed), personal gains based in insight-laden peace of mind will emerge with less constricting bands of repressed pain channeling throughout my physicality from head to toe, inclusive of tightening the musculature of my throat,  my heart and my abdomen, to say nothing of my long ago injured sciatic nerve, which throbs hotly whenever my central nervous system tenses up with yesteryear’s electrically stimulated current emergence of repressed emotional distress—that was quite a mouthful!

And now, as a gorgeous sunset is upon us, as though God is actively painting the desert sky-scape, above, breathtaking hues ranging from hot pink to burnt orange, grazing the peaks of purple mountain majesties, I can be seen swaying back and forth on my well padded, two-seater, back patio swing, gazing upward in hopes of spying The Bard soaring overhead while engaged in thoughtful discourse with his sidekick, The Sage, but alas, all I can see (I mean feel) is the breeze whistling through the leaves of my grapefruit tree as if imparting two words of existential encouragement into my ear—Know Thyself—and knowing my thoughts to be on the same wavelength of The Bard, The Sage, and Henry James for quite some time, I, feeling sound reason to smile, believe that soon, the rocky nature of my current emotional turmoil will quiet inside my head—at least for a spell ... why?  Well, each time my processor openly acknowledges yet another deeply repressed emotional pain coupling with today’s sense of positively focused courage and tolerant patience with inner conflict concerning stepping toward the great unknown, I gain an ever heightening awareness of the fact that I’d experienced more than my fair share of confounded desperation during childhood and managed to thrive rather than seeing myself as survivor, and with that deeper truth floating brightly through the forefront of my neocortex, my connection to self respect multiplies exponentially, suggesting my absorption of just cause for my repressed guilt-ridden self estimation to continue to change for the better—and thus has today’s insight-laden intuitive train of thought spotlighted the primary concern of my existential quest as having been directly related to my need to acknowledge those times when decreasing feelings of latent physical pain (whether lodged inside my head, throat, chest, stomach or leg) rely upon my calm, clear intuitive intelligence to emerge ever more courageously whenever instinct releases a subconsciously repressed terrifying moment on my personal time that my forward focus (concerning emotionally maturity) feels readied to identify and confront, head-on, so as to relieve heightened degrees of repressed mental unrest in need of conscious reveal.  Whew!

As clarifying today’s train of thought for myself challenged my current mental capacity to advance yet another rung up the ladder of emotional maturity, I can’t even begin to convey how challenged I feel whenever my think tank is actively specifying which words will hopefully most clearly convey my innermost feelings, thus disclosing current changes for the better relating to the highly complex, interconnected functionalities of my whole brain’s good health to you and to me, too!

And if you ask, Annie, why doth that inner need choose to turn the spotlight of insight upon itself so often, my improved attitudes, concerning self esteem would intuitively reply:  Nothing stimulates my connection to mental intrigue as does the multi-functional nature of the human brain caught in the act of healing itself by advancing toward confronting (rather than dodging and and weaving away from) denial’s repressed pain based in a lifetime pattern of PTSD, which proves as difficult to recover from as is true of the drug addict, determined to successfully undergo withdrawal in rehab—and as PTSD accompanies me wherever I go, the more I choose to heal my sense of self respect the more grateful I’ll feel about my good fortune to note that this brain of mine, which also accompanies me everywhere I go, grows ever more consciously capable of identifying expunging repressed pain, suggesting that wherever you feel need to go, you, like me, never need feel fear of losing your hold on your existential self, thus abandoning  yourself to the misjudgments of others—and with that ‘peace’ of personal KNOW(thyself)LEDGE fueling my long range goal of being led by the healthy portion of my consciously recovering mind, my soul’s inner peace remains stoked much more often  with stockpiles of positive focus as I continue to age, feeling younger than springtime  ... and if you’re assuming that I had a conscious clue of airing today’s insight-driven train of thought before it poured naturally out of my soulful attitude, word by word, all on its own, may I respectfully suggest that you seriously consider consulting with the depths of your think tank’s determination to absorb thoughts that may differ from your own ...

2 IF THE BARD ASKETH: WHY DOTH THIS RETIRED TEACHER OF COMMUNICATIONS WRITE FOR HOURS EACH DAY?

I would graciously reply—my choice to air insights relating to my personal quest is twofold:   First of all, each time my power of intuitive thought guides my intelligence to dive ever more deeply into my past in hopes of stirring a deeper truth to break through my defense system’s wall of denial so that, upon surfacing, I feel self-empowered to clearly revive the assertive portion of my voice, which, no longer feeling need to remain fully anesthetized, re-energizes my own forward moving momentum in which attitudinal changes for the better (concerning my self disparaging misperceptions, which had remained subconsciously repressed since early childhood) feel ready to spotlight each next insight awaiting my arrival at the end of each tunnel that has existed inside the dark side of my head ever since 'this one or that one' had thought to cast a disparaging insult in my direction, which, as proves common to every young child, had been absorbed by my processor as unquestionably true.

And if clearing my brain of a build up of tension by way of laboring to deliver yet another deeper truth, which hath been banging against my wall of denial in hopes of freeing me from carrying a growing sense of repressed pain throughout this last stage of my life (hello, my friend migraine-strength headache) then, during each next deeply painful, relentless attempt to regain my conscious awareness concerning lifelong need for yet another attitudinal change for the better, we watch my emotionally matured readiness stop clamoring to catch onto whatever deeper truth has been laboring to make itself known by rerouting its exit course away from banging angrily and thus ever more painfully around the womb of subconscious storage toward tunneling calmly and thus painstakingly through the narrowly focused darkened birth canal, which leads my processor toward engaging with intuitive thought ever more calmly, expansively and thus productively once my ever heightening enlightened sense of self awareness spotlights clarity awaiting the emergence of each next classic string of insights, which has historically been known to slide yet another missing 'peace' of my life’s puzzle into every open minded nook and cranny of my heart, thus freeing love to inspire my conscious mind with sound reason to recreate reality’s bigger pictures before my wearied mind seeks asylum within a nest built to rest until ‘something’ stimulates my sense of intuitive intrigue to feel compelled to dive down from my present perch of conscious awareness in hopes of surfacing from my thought processor’s subterranean wellmof knowkedge with a scholar’s increased capacity to continue to reassemble emotionally rebalanced bigger pictures as I age rather than watching my persona’s false self image falling to pieces right before my own eyes, thus causing me to feel ever more abandoned by those who love me as deeply, today, as those who had continued to love me when tragedy descended upon our home, frightening a small child into feeling as if her emotional needs had been dismissed forever at a time when the intelligence of every adult who'd comprised my extended family had been engaged in surviving their own wrestling matches, pitting their heart-wrenched intelligence against combatting overwhelmingly painful odds of their own.  And if at that early stage in my life my intuitive intelligence holding hands with my defense system had conjoined to conjure up a subconscious plan in which the sincerity of my smile had been guided to revive and thrive rather than barely survive after three year old me had wandered through that dark and lonely emotional wasteland of personal crises on my own is not enough reason to write conscientiously, day after day, in hopes of disseminating information concerning the human brain's capacity to heal itself of overwhelming pain by way of calling forth that same tag team of intuitive intelligence matched with a positively focused sense of defensive denial, which, working together, guides my conscious mind to freely impart insight-laden trains of thoughts concerning personal experiences throughout the world by way of cyberspace, then how else can the teacher in me illustrate how often, throughout the ages, subconscious attitudes that formulate the words, actions and decisions on the part of our leaders (including parents whose attitudes are unconsciously adopted by this child or that child) prove to be based in negatively focused fears, which, having remained repressed, go unidentified and thus, unresolved, so as to influence your decisions and mine, to this very day.

Why is today’s run-on thought (which is wearying my sense of clarity) true?  Because in the absence of insight, self defeating attitudes (based in a primary unidentified unresolved inner conflict, buried alive subconsciously beginning in childhood) continue to serve as invisible stumbling blocks over which many decisions on the part of leadership tumble, repeatedly, during every stage of our lives as long as repressed patterns of thought offer us no conscious clue as to when classic spikes of angst, based in yesteryear's fear of failure or fear of emotional abandonment, dictate our present fate to be smacked upside the head with a latent strike of anxiety, which, acting like an invisible hurtle, has, once again, laced fogginess (unknowingly) within the logically clear-minded vision of our paths, based in 'something' stimulating yesteryear’s primary unresolved inner conflict to snap into and out of our minds so quickly as to leach today’s connection to clarity, leaving us with no conscious clue as to how often (and thus classically) everyone’s brain repeatedly stumbles unconsciously into a foggily repressed, primary fear, now and again, and thus is it my choice, as a certified instructor of clarified communications to identify, acknowledge, publish and muster the courage necessary to leap over my greatest fears so as to exemplify a person who has conscientiously and determinedly decided not to allow foggy fears to delay my step-by-step advancement toward achieving heartfelt long range goals, which prove unrealized, based in the fact that earlier in my life when I'd devoted the bulk of my time to ministering to the needs of others, very little free time was mine to dive, introspectively within the depths of my past in hopes of gaining one clue after another, all of which band together as insights, which spotlight answers to questions concerning why the pinnacle of personal or professional success (or both) remains just beyond the grasp of most of us no matter how intelligent, well educated or naturally talented we prove to be, and as that reality continues to prove classic throughout the world, from one generation to the next, here’s my plan to counteract the self defeatist track, which causes the majority of adults, who huddle, blindly, so close together, within the rising center of the bell shaped curve on the timeline, as to miss one opportunity after another to see their way clear toward mustering the humility, patience, courage and self confident determination, all of which prove necessary if an individual (of any age) is ultimately to break away from the cycle of classic mediocrity so as to greet the future, which lies immediately ahead of us all with attitudinal changes for the better filling his/her head—and hopefully, while my friends around the world are consciously concentrating their mental focus upon my unconscious stumbles against yesteryear's unresolved fears while I quest toward freeing myself of latent spikes of inner tension, which, having layered up, has been carried forward, unnecessarily, from one stage of my life to the next, my reader's processors will remain so calm as to invite their intuitive powers to emerge, thus inspiring their thought patterns to switch tracks from absorbing my fear-based stumbles toward spotlighting repressed fears of their own. 

At this, The Bard, locking eyes seriously with mine, replies:
That's a pretty manipulative plan, Annie.  And a tall order—how do you plan to increase your followers by writing anonymously?

Yes, that is a tall order.  Once again, thee proves justified in thy insightful perception.  On the other hand, I wonder as to thy attitude.  Did thou makest use of the word manipulative with a bent toward objectivity or negativity?

Good question, woman.  My tone definitely offered thee 'attitude'.

Yes—thy tone alerted my basic instinct of self protective defensiveness to raise my antennae in readiness to engage your intelligence in this debate.  All in all, 'manipulation' doth not portend to be a bad trait lest we be the only ones to gain from employing a bit of mind control—on the other hand—no one, pray tell, is better at mind control than thee—and as I laugh at the truth, The Bard can't help but chuckle while my train of thought chugs on—Thy dialogue-laden scripts manipulate the minds of thy audience to think more deeply and astutely upon exiting the theater than had been true before the curtain arose on act one, suggesting that mind control, directed toward cooperative positivity can be as productively constructive as is true of—placing a wee child in a playpen, knowing that a two year old sibling is afoot, and thus doth thee manipulate the wee one’s whereabouts for safekeeping, just as we place covers over electrical sockets, manipulating the environments of two year olds to keep inexperienced brains safe from feeling electrocuted by the nature of their inquisitive minds.

At this Shakespeare’s inquisitive mind seems puzzled—“What pray tell is an electric socket?
Ah—thinkist me—I’m getting way ahead of myself.  This time travel thing is a bit tricky ... so, once again, the sincerity of my spirit's smile leads the way as I say:  I've found that at all ages, minds are inquisitive, and since spiking anxiety electrocutes intuitive thinking skills from developing naturally, my long range goal while writing serves to offer up vital information, concerning upping our capacity to gain control over the complex functions of our own brains by way of engaging my 'listeners' minds in my saga, and if that's manipulative then who’s to say that the definition of manipulation can’t go both ways—I mean, after all is said and done, the mind, which I hope to manipulate for the better more often than any other, is my own.  And hopefully, each ‘current’ change for the better, which I’ve been working to advance forward, day by day, spotlights my leaps of faith, which follow one another, showcasing my brain's natural potential to progress ever nearer to completing this circuit of healing, which, over recent weeks, has clearly been gaining ground within the reprocessed portion of the traumatized part of my brain, and as today’s awareness stimulates my self confidence to brighten another notch, I feel us drawing nearer to returning to the flash frozen couple of pre-teeners on the stage, because once these next few (pain driven) trains of thought  (which still feel fuzzy) have had time to couple together with clarity intact, I’m aiming to readily free my storyteller to separate Annie from Joseph's impulsive lip-lock, knowing that both of those youngsters are going to have need of chapstick, big time ...

At this point, The Bard flies off on a tangent concerning the merits of employing a lengthy soliloquy to drive home a point, and that aspect of our conversation runs so deep that I forget to answer Shakespeare’s question concerning how best to expand the range of my followers without taxing my brain even further; good thing the astute mind of The Bard, whose soul proves as actively inquisitive as anyone's (if not more so), swoops down, yet again, to ask about that very plan, which my patient frame of mind finds simple to outline for a brain as brilliant as Bill’s—As you know, people feel need to talk about topics that hold their interest.  If my insight-laden trains of thought, which prove to be highly personal yet classic in nature concerning subconscious desire to name and tame self defeating traits so as to move forward past latent angst toward attaining a greater sense of inner ‘piece’ missing since childhood then what I feel need to say proves of interest on a worldwide scope suggesting why I believe that, over time, a word-of-mouth, grassroots movement will continue to build momentum on its own.

Bill, seeming impressed upon hearing me disclose that my thoughts are being  read in more than 80 nations and counting, replied—somehow momentum building on its own,  over time, rings a bell, and with bells of communion ringing in both of our ears, he flew off to his unfinished business, while I, called out—oh wait—one more thing!  Please tell Socrates that my quest to know myself more deeply, today, than had been possible in the absence of additional insights, yesterday, continues to bear fruit so sweet as to nourish unmet needs, all around and with that, I turned toward the next leg of my humbling path, while Bill (soaring upward, smiling down upon one of his countless disciples who had no conscious clue of choosing to challenge her intelligence to rise to the lofty level of his, one rung at a time, until just now) waved one wing in my direction as if to reply—Will do—and until we meet, again, keep up the good work, knowing that ‘the struggle’ is what inspires your spirit to strengthen, so, please, take your own sweet time as your mind-quest chugs forward, thus ensuring that you'll not miss out on barrels of fun, personal delights, and just rewards which lie directly ahead and are yours for the taking over the rest of your ride, which, take my word for it, always proves shorter than we think is true during youth ...

And at this late stage of my earthly life, I, hearing my voice agree wholeheartedly, smiled as these words floated clearly through the air—Yes indeedy, once again, you're on target—OMG!—wait a minute—I didn't explain electric sockets ...

No worries—laughedThe Bard (just before soaring above cloud 9)—we have lots left to discuss and debate as the future unfolds; as for now, tis more than enough for thee to figure out why that dreadful tension-filled migraine bangs so often, as of late, against thy wall of denial—and then, I couldn’t believe my eyes when a large earned, small green head poked its way through Cloud Nine with need to say— Until peace be within thee, may The Force of insight continue to guide thy way ...

Wow!  I thought—I feel truly blessed with Socrates, The Bard and now, Yoda watching over me from on high—not a bad supporting cast to offer me spiritual guidance during good times when my path feels clear and smooth as well as when my path feels as spooky and smoky as if hot rocks of latent lava are, once again, pouring forth from a molten place at my core, banging away at my wall of denial, trying like all get out to filter a deeper truth through the subconscious portion of my processor ... Ouch!  OMG!  Not again!  Hey, Shakespeare, what happened to my over active brain’s rest period?

LET’S IDENTIFY THE ON-GOING DEVELOPMENT OF MY BRAIN’S INTUITIVELY INSPIRED CONSCIOUS SENSE OF POSITIVELY FOCUSED MIND CONTROL

2019
Today, I awoke wondering if it’s possible for an intuitive sense of mind control to release repressed pain without re-envisioning memories that continue to ‘feel’ too horrific to consciously recall ...

That question came to me after a session of EMDR therapy, during which I’d voiced my fear of releasing repressed memories so horrid as to strike my current connection to emotionally rebalanced well being with spikes of anxiety, leading my therapist too offer me a gently reassuring smile while imparting an experiential insight, which you’ll find paraphrased right here:  As you work toward heightening current levels of emotional maturity, anxiety associated with past experiences decreases proportionately, stimulating your intuitive intelligence to guide the conscious portion of your brain toward the readiness to release anesthetized memories so naturally as to coax your subconscious to expunge each next layer of deeply repressed angst.

Upon absorbing the calming nature of my therspist’s insight, my smile, responding naturally to hers, saw me driving home, reflecting over the soothing ways that an astute therapist’s positively focused experiential wisdom continues to offer my defense system sound reason to relieve my body of inner tension and relax until each next train of intuitive thought, serving to alert the conscious portion of my mind of readiness to permit my processor to switch tracks from defensively fearing subconscious anxiety spiking throughout my think tank (compelling me to fight, flee or freeze) toward courageously strengthening my spirit to embrace a self soothing attitudinal change for the better, thus encouraging the insightful portion of my think tank to spotlight internal steps of emotional healing advancing forward, each of which inspires self confident trains of thought to take courageous leaps of faith toward filtering self disparaging attitudes ever more clearly through my wall of denial so as to be consciously identified, as has most especially proved true, over these last several weeks ... Whew!

Hmmm—perhaps today’s train of thought has served to stimulate your sense of intuitive intrigue to wonder over the series of events that took place in April when our immediate family, minus one, chose to enjoy each other’s company during my grandchildren’s spring break on the coast at which time a serious health issue arose ...