 I am a great lover of Analogy - the story within a story, the picture portraying yet another picture, description of description and an illustration that illustrates. I have used it much in my work counseling children and in discussions with adults. So how would I analogize this time of sickness when Life has never seemed so close to Death, Sanity so close to Craziness, Past events so close to Present times? It is, I feel, rather like the unwinding of a clock - slowing down, returning to its first required stroke from which all other movement of the hour and the minute hands must give account of time. This time in bed has been just that - unwinding history, back to childhood years from which the big hand of recollection has struck its ringing chime at every hour of trauma, and the small hand of memory has passed over and over, filling in the time between each hour, each lived experience - both hands fixed securely to one central pivot - my child's soft beating heart. It has been, to view another facet - rather like reversing a cake recipe where the ingredients are no longer blended in a pleasure gastronomical, but from the outward decoration to the layered filling underneath, every item put into the mixing bowl is seperated to be examined for its contribution to the whole. In restrospect, my Life is not a whole, one unit, a cake baked whole from whole - it is composed of varying amounts of what is needed to produce satisfactory results. T'is true, just as the cake in baking, so my Life in making had to know the beater's strokes, rough stirring up, endure the oven's heat, but there is great reward for following the recipe, and there are sad calamities for ignoring of the same! One might ask why the use of Analogy at all? Is it not to create a more understandable picture, insight, meaning, possible reforming of a concept not fully grasped, a clearing of the fog, an interpretation that will more quickly resonate within the listener's being ? Rather like a slash of sun slanting through thick foliage and bringing into brilliant focus an inset of the woodland scene hitherto hidden in deep shadow. Lying on my bed with nothing more to do than exercise my loyal single neuron in its feeble effort to leap the synapse to a thought, idea or subject, Memories like wildlife captured in their natural habitats, caged in the zoo of the Unconscious, have been rattling their cages and struggling to escape. Musing on this zoo Analogy may help me hold in check the thoughts that seem to override and overrun in overwhelming torrents - a Niagara where in my weakly paddling physical canoe would topple o'er the Falls beyond the point of No Return. Every memory lives within its own original habitat, be it scene, event or person and all the memories like the wildlife in a zoo have sought adaption to as near a fascimile of its place of origin as possible. Captivity, depending on the length of bondage tends to dim the sights and smells once so familiar and now exchanged for new environment and living - but if allowed their freedom the automatic response of liberated creatures will revert to instincts deeply remembered and awake from slumbering in fierce reaction to what lies beyond the bars. Thus it has been with certain Memories of traumas let loose these days. Terror pacing back and forth behind the bars of my resistance to explore, like the tiger, burning eyes glaring at the hindering obstacles between itself and freedom - and so I let it out ( see Bed Musings. Life and Death), and it returned to its original habitat - the scene of near drowning that has lain in my unconscious for many years the source of my great fear of physical death. Terror Memory - one creature less to deal with for now I know, and now I am aware. I do not need to cage the tiger any more - but rearrange the habitat and bring it to the present where I can have control. I love watching monkeys when I have the opportunity because they are so full of fun, creative in their finding things to play with and their natural showmanship that wins the heart of child and adult with their antics and agility. A zoo is not without its lighter side - not every creature is a predator, something to fear and run away from. I am glad that no matter how rough some things may be that there is always space for laughter and for humour. Watching monkeys is not a pastime wasted for there is suffering and sadness aplenty in the world and there is a healing power in humour. I was disgusted and disappointed when thinking of writing a thesis on, " The Healing Power of Humour", to find such paucity of material in which to do the research. It resulted in no more than two or three books on the subject, and no articles or academic papers to boot. So while lying on my bed I opened cage doors now and then and let out little monkeys to go frolic. I have been grateful for some online interaction engaged in groan-producing, as one gentleman phrased it, a Pun-ic war. >> Sample, during a serious discussion about Free Will, this brief interlude occurred: G. "Freedom's just another word for nothing left, Toulouse." (Janis Joplin - who WASN'T featured in 'Moulin Rouge' - to a diminutive French painter who was given to a fairly low trek...) L. That would be the famous wild west impressionist "no-time Toulouse"? G, Yes, and the sad fact is that all he was really interested in was making lots of Monet... Me: "Oh GROAN, gentlemen. "Very punny", Cez Anne --------- >> From a discussion about saying Grace out loud: R. My 10 year old daughter likes to say grace over Sunday lunch. We often use Iona graces, short and to the point,eg "Thankyou Lord for this our dinner , Without it we would be much thinner." Me. How about: " For what we are about to receive, Lord grant us an antidote" ? G. If people feel they should indulge in formalisms like saying grace, let 'em. "Thanks for lunch we're about to munch" ***************************** A few litttle monkeys popped out of nowhere reminding me of days when I was in a church ministry for a good number of years and observed the innocence of little children whose remarks can be such logical explanation to things in their simple thought processes, some examples of which leapt like preadolescent primates from one cerebral bough to another: >> The time at a funeral for a beloved grandmother when the congregation walked by the open casket to pay respects, and one small grandaughter, lifted up by Mummy to see her Nana, said in a perfectly audible voice for all to hear, " My, but Nana doesn't look quite like herself today". >> The occasion when the children in a church meeting were asked questions, and this day they were asked what is the first thing you do when building a house?". The correct answer being - lay a good foundation. An assured seven year old voice responding loud and clear, " Pour a slab". >> We appreciated parents who encouraged their little ones to sit quietly throughout the services and I almost lost it when my companion was praying and a visiting gentleman would interject every two or three sentences with loud "Amens" and "Hallelujahs", and a five year old turned around in her seat to glare at him, then, with all the stern admonition she could inject into her voice, scolded in no uncertain tones, " HUSH UP!". >> One of our ministers visitng a lady and her little girl needed to find a verse of scripture and asked the mother if she had a Bible. The lady turned to her little girl and said, " Darling, run and fetch the book Mummy's always reading" . Her daughter returned promptly with a Sear's Catalogue. ******************************* So much for monkeys, so many other creatures symbolizing my emotions and bringing into stark reality circumstances, people and remembered times of grief, fear, expectation, joy, betrayal, humour, comfort,shame, guilt, pleasure - a plethora of feelings stealthy as a hunting fox, frightening as the charging rhino, poisonous as the snake that slithers from the shade, paralyzing lion's roar, desolate as night wolf's howl, playful as the otter or the dolphin's gentle passage through the water, warm as young Koala cub against its mother's fur - all these and more paraded from their opened cages in the confines of my Unconscious zoo of Memories, their traumas and their wonderments. There is such great potential in Analogy because there is unlimited range and variety of usage. There is not one thing I can think of that does not have its meaning, character, essence or likeness that can be depicted in some other kindred spirit, object or scenic view and portray a clearer illustration or one so like, that both analogy and original subject are needed for whole understanding. ( After all - what are clones for?). ********************** Goessoftly Retired Therapist www.goessoftlyishere.com (Permission for reprints is required)   
| BEAUTY | LOVE | SPIRIT OF MY HEART | ANALOGY | ONENESS | | THE HEALING PROCESS | DISSOCIATIVE IDENTITY DISORDER | POETRY | Biographical Entries | THE OTHER SIDE OF LIFE | STORIES FOR LITTLES (Pigmus and friends) | |
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