It travels with me wherever I go; it is me, or at least it likes to think it is. That voice in my head that is both me and a Judge/Jury/Critic of everything I do, or don’t do the way The Voice believes I should. “You’re being lazy … think of all that you have to do. The closets are a mess, there’s laundry to be done, you haven’t cleaned out your email inbox, and there you sit, sunk into the cushion of the lounge chair with a book in your hand, with all that you have to do going undone. And can’t even write a measly 15 minutes a day. Well, what good is it to aim for writing every day, anyway, given how poorly you write. Is there anything you are good at? Being lazy, it looks like to me.”
Yes, that Voice. Its incessant words are the background music to my life, stirring up a mix of anxiety always simmering, just waiting for the wrong word or red light or stressors to turn up the heat to boil. I’m working on changing the words, turning down the volume, soothing its soul with compassion. There’s enough anxiety waiting for me, I don’t need to create it for myself!