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(26 Oct 2012 –
What are some
of the Ghosts that intrude into your thoughts and dreams and reality?
For some the Ghosts
are Fears from our past – memories of difficult moments when Life was not
within our control.
Then there are
the Fears of our present – when circumstances seem more than one can endure.
Even more challenging
are the Fears for our future – where any Hope is threatened for personal safety,
health and independence, financial security, emotional fulfillment, and faith
in God.
Our peace of
mind is threatened by our Fears – as much or more than the Ghosts and Horrors
in Halloween Stories.
The Demons (ghosts)
that traverse (haunt) our Thoughts (corridors of our brain) begin with our
birth and continue throughout our life until death's end.
One may feel
alone and vulnerable when faced with the terrors and Fears that confront our
body and mind.
Especially during
periods of loss and grief, our emotional and mental capacity is stretched
almost beyond endurance -- Tears and Fears run rampant.
In a sense,
this is a period of mental distress (mental illness, insanity), where Life may
seem unfair, without hope, over whelming, and not worth the next breath. Where the external 'Ghosts' are put to the
pale by the internal Ghosts that confront us.
Some may not
find their way through this period, this labyrinth, without the loving support
of a 'host' of family, friends, and prayers.
Dorothy Hazel Tarr)
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Below is Poem #670, written by my maternal Cousin
Emily Elizabeth Dickinson (born 10 Dec 1830 – died 15 May 1886 at age 56). Emily uses metaphor to examine the
"mind" and likens it as the residence of our Fears. Emily penned this poem while living in
Massachusetts, during the uncertain and chaotic days following the American
Civil War 1861-1865. She was confronted
with illness and emotional turmoil within her home (parents, siblings, and
herself) from early life through death's end of family, friends, and herself. Her Life was full of challenges—overwhelming in
their singularity and solitudity.
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[By Emily Elizabeth Dickinson – Poem
#670]
One need not be a Chamber -- to be Haunted --
One need not be a House --
The Brain has Corridors -- surpassing
Material Place --
Far safer, of a Midnight Meeting
External Ghost
Than its interior Confronting --
That Cooler Host.
Far safer, through an Abbey gallop,
The Stones a'chase --
Than Unarmed, one's a'self encounter --
In lonesome Place --
Ourself behind ourself, concealed --
Should startle most --
Assassin hid in our Apartment
Be Horror's least.
The Body -- borrows a Revolver --
He bolts the Door --
O'erlooking a superior spectre --
Or More –
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