invisible trees, still

You would think, after lo these many years, that I'd know to stay out of the path of invisible trees. 'Fraid not. I should certainly be more alert, especially when traipsing along the same paths, especially aware of their hidden nature and frightful effect on my Psyche. It's not even like these particular trees are new or even unique. And yet...
There I was, gaily skipping in a rosy world, a song in my heart and my head, then WHAM! A monstrous limb pops me up 'side my head, from nowhere, leaving me stunned in my tracks. What the fresh hell was THAT, my girl? Lemme tell you what it was. Ugliness, sheer unadulterated ugliness from the fourth dimension which had risen like a mountain before me, rearing its fearsome head and blocking all sensible thoughts, all sanity. Sigh.
That episode is now done, but I know other invisible trees of my own making lurk around the corners, waiting for me to wander from the path just a little so they can tromp all over me again, if I only let them. Because my inner pathways are most assuredly my choice, I do have control over that, if nothing else. Then again, the ease with which the bugaboos spring forth would seem to indicate that I don't have as much control as I would prefer to believe. So, if not control, then I certainly can choose. I choose to not allow my dear Psyche to be mauled by those invisible trees, to only allow glancing blows, near misses. I choose to try gallantly to pare down those mountainous limbs overhanging my logical right-of-way to mere wisps, nothing more. I choose.