Obedience to the light, the authentic self-image felt from deep within, a calling. It is set against an illuminating seductive “delusion” developing, in a lifelong desperate striving to succeed, to become the ace in a gambler’s magic deck of cards… the false self. A solution felt to be the answer to human suffering, an identity, an embodiment of the honored heroes we have seen or imagined, the learned impact of strength, now an internal quest for personal power. Abandoning our inner truth, pushing aside, tamping down the emotional reality bubbling from deep within, that ace in the deck haunts us as a desire to be more than we are, the answer to a soul lost from its basic moorings, to just be, seems not enough. We have lost the light and come to the darkness; glory sought in the grandiose desire of self-adulation for becoming one to be ‘recognized’ as important, powerful, more than we are or need to be.
Bring out the big guns; stand against the bullies, the ones who command and dominate. Forceful standing strong, exhilarated, and exalted in the image of power and strength. I shall be a god. The tanks in our minds were rolling, and the massive thunder of war birds armed to the teeth emanated a deep message: Do not mess with me. Not only from its roar but also from the truth known about its potentiality. An individual’s secret hidden inner powerlessness aches for opposing shadow deployments from a want-to-be warrior. Do not mess with me! I have seen and I have become, more than who I am. I command the darkness of my false self, no longer bound to obedience to the light, my inner truth. My imagination has been let loose.
To dream of being the pilot commanding the cockpit of a thundering war bird, with wings that flame amidst the rocketing image, the image of brutal force… forbidden power. POWER, to stand deceived in the answer to your deep inner wounds of powerlessness. To witness the war birds flying in unison guided by men with nerves of steel; oh, if only to be the pilot in life of such a murderous image.
The innocent fellow humans, children, women, and men are all vulnerable to the launched rockets of death from the one that stands ten miles high with pride of having achieved the image… of death. FEAR me for I am the commander that controls the weapons of life and death.
Photo by Victor on Unsplash
Who is the true hero in this life? The talented vagabond with bones of steel, shadowing power and glory, or the meek drifter that feels the pain in the wounded child before him, and within, kneeling to aid the suffering seen in the moment? Bombs or love… where and why do we choose the paths of this dichotomy?
If the man of steel knows the honor found in simply having access to his feelings, if he or she has ‘reclaimed’ the lost empathy, in other words, to have found himself again from whence he was lost, he stands a chance to become that God so desperately sought after. But it is and can only be in the eyes of one that sees and feels the buried empathy for the innocent child, for the innocent men and women, but most importantly, having re-ignited a healing empathy towards oneself and one’s inner struggles to find authenticity in personhood. These are the heroes of this earth, silent warriors simply coming to be themselves, reawakened to the lost world of compassion and empathy for all living creatures. Indeed, we come to love and accept our weaknesses as well as strengths. That is where true power originates, in becoming one’s authentic self… within one that either never lost the obedience to their inner light, or one who has returned home, clear, seeing in the light of obedience to self the pathway forward to becoming.
Featured Image: Photo by Matthew Ball on Unsplash
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** Copyright notice. All of my writings are copyrighted and registered with the Library of Congress.
- My name is Jesse Donahue. In 2015, at the age of 58, I took up writing, and since then I’ve written two novels, poems, and essays about my journey struggling with CPTSD. The essays, 70+, were an adjunct to journaling in therapy to amplify my learning and self-understanding.
My writings, which include therapy notes, poems, novels, and essays, are all a part of my ongoing personal therapy. Many of my essays are in a stream-of-consciousness style, unleashing, sharing, and delving into energies that continuously process in my subconscious. My writings, initially, geared for me and my therapist’s eyes only, began with my exposing my thoughts, fears, and feelings (or the lack of) onto paper… a journal of therapy notes. Then, with fear overcome and via a personal decision of choice, I shared them here with the readers. My essays, most all, originate from my weekly therapy notes. My intent and desire is to encourage readers to recognize traits in themselves and find a therapist if they are willing and able to do so. If you are in therapy, ask your therapist to read them and discuss what pertains to you. For some, it can be a long and difficult process over extensive periods to awaken to the unconscious issues that have us acting out in life. Our behavior can seem like dancing to a buried, invisible energy that we are not able to directly see or confront. It is my sincere hope that my insights will assist the reader in the process toward reaching a deeper self-understanding. Bringing the unconscious out into the light of self-awareness, understanding, and acceptance fosters self-love and the process of change.
My published writings with the CPTSD foundation: The Hidden Bugaboo (*recommended). The Beganning. Twelve Days Without Coffee. Learned Helplessness. Cast Out of Eden by Toxic Shame. The Crumbs and The Banquet. What an Outside Appearance may Not Show. Obedience to the Light – Bombs or Love. Stepping Into the Shoes of Who You Are. Personal Honor, Integrity, Dignity, Honesty. Inspirational Tugging – Teachers. Codependency – Overriding the Monster of Self Hate. Surfing the Light Through the Darkness. We are but Storytellers. A Writer’s Brain – The Gift. The Highway of Worries. The Emptiness of Yesterday. The Man Who Lives Under the Bridge. Living in the Dis-World. SPECTRUM.
