I was
shopping in Costco the week before Christmas when I walked past a
refrigerator case that announced a sale on a giant box of
mini-quiches. I stopped for a moment, because a thought arose that it
might be nice to have that on hand for the three holiday potlucks
we'd been invited to.
Another thought, a louder one, immediately answered, “nah, too expensive.” So I walked on. And found myself continuing to quietly think about the box of quiches. When I finished with my shopping, I went back to the cooler and stared at them some more.
“Those would be great to take to the parties.” “But they're expensive. And you don't really like quiches all that much.” “But they're on sale, and what else would I bring to those parties and how long would it take to make it?” “But they're store-bought! What will people think of you?!” And so on.
It took me far too long to realize that one of these voices was my deeper self recognizing a way to make the holiday season easier on myself and one of them was headmind, my super ego, the rule-bound worrier and judger.
This is where I am at – somewhere along the way I lost touch with what I wanted, what would make me happy, and fell into the thrall of vague rules that had encrusted my thinking like barnacles on a shipwreck, to the point that I was constantly making my life harder for myself, refusing to take “short cuts,” and putting off what I wanted for some unspecified future time when I'd have more money or time or energy, creating a life full of obligations and empty of joy.
I bought the box of quiches. And I took some of them to each of the parties I'd been invited to. By the third party, I finally realized what I had done for myself by buying them and what I had been doing to myself for years by refusing to listen to that quiet voice that says, "I'd like that."
It was such a relief to not have to dig through the freezer, to search up recipes and to make something from scratch from what we had on hand. Hours and hours of time freed up, but more importantly, the breathtaking lightness of saying screw you to rules I wasn't fully aware of burdening myself with -- having to be thrifty, to not waste, to cook everything from scratch, a good potluck guest always puts thought and energy into her contribution. Such a relief to say the hell with it, a calorie is a calorie, money comes in and money goes out, and mini-quiches are quite good enough, thank you!
Of course there's nothing wrong with being thrifty, cooking from scratch and being thoughtful, but when it becomes an imperative, when you force yourself to do it even when you don't want to, you mute that inner voice a bit, and if you do it often enough, you can turn it so far down you can't hear it anymore. What you want is a mystery, what will make you happy, a complete blank.
I have spent the last 10 months listening for the tiniest stirrings of excitement, interest or pleasure as I ask myself what I want, over and over again, reconnecting with that inner voice that says what makes me happy and what brings me joy. That voice, which I once thought of as rather self-indulgent, turns out to be vitally important to my health and well-being.
A realization like this was important to me for my particular recovery from chronic fatigue, but I think it's important in a larger sense as well. That quiet voice, our deeper self, that is what almost everyone loses touch with as they grow up from toddler to adult with all the attendant roles and rules of being a good child, good student, good employee, desirable partner, loving spouse, responsible parent, valued community member. (Or believing without a doubt that you are a bad child, a bad student, a rebel, a crappy person, a loner, a loser. Different set of behavior rules, same stuckness.)
Those louder voices, the ones that tell you how to behave, how to fit in, how to look good, to maximize your chances of approval and love, they are all conditioning, all an attempt by one part of your mind to protect you, to keep you from experiencing rejection, hurt or loss.
I made a conscious decision years ago to stop taking actions out of fear, to stop making choices based on what I was afraid could happen. I could see clearly how that was boxing me into a smaller and smaller life, as my headmind seemed to have an inexhaustable supply of things to worry about, ways to imagine something going wrong. I had fed it a diet of dramatic, traumatic stories from the “real world” during my decade as a journalist, then with various fictional worlds and my own inner musings, which over time had devolved into worst-case-scenario leaps of imagination about whatever might be happening, more often than not.
I got that I shouldn't take action based on these worries, which wanted to keep me in such a tiny, narrow, self-protective prison. But I didn't realize how much the roles I was inhabiting were based on fear as well -- fear of rejection, fear of making a mistake, fear of losing someone's love, or esteem. So I am making a resolution to notice when I reject my inner voice and why, to see the rule or the role I am choosing over my own happiness.
I don't think the quiet inner voice gets any louder. I think we might be able to get better at noticing its feeling tone, how it feels differs from super ego, headmind, rule-bound thinking. How it is calmer and somehow more certain. How what it says makes our hearts flutter with a little thrill of happiness.
I do think we need to learn how to turn down the volume on the other voices – the rules, the roles, the worries --through meditation or certain types of journaling, perhaps, by bringing a greater self-awareness to our thinking.
I think the voice that says, “oh, I love that!” or “I want that,” is not self-indulgence. It's happiness speaking. And I am fairly certain it is the same voice that speaks to us as creative muse, sense of humor, and insights large and small.
I am determined to continue excavating, making space for this voice to arise and be heard, this year. I have a few different tools I am using which support this process quite well, and I plan to write more about them.
Reverse Therapy I have covered in my chronic fatigue recovery story. My experience with Marie Kondo's “The Life Changing Magic of Tidying Up” has been a delightful exploration of home life and possessions that truly has been life changing. And I am excited to continue my explorations into Intuitive Eating, after years of food deprivation and trying various extreme diets in a futile attempt to deal with chronic fatigue symptoms.
I know there are other aspects of my life where I have shut down my inner voice (creativity and sexuality spring to mind), so there are definitely plenty of avenues to pursue in this new year, but all of them seem to revolve about this same theme of understanding how I have disconnected from my inner voice and plugging it back in.
Another thought, a louder one, immediately answered, “nah, too expensive.” So I walked on. And found myself continuing to quietly think about the box of quiches. When I finished with my shopping, I went back to the cooler and stared at them some more.
“Those would be great to take to the parties.” “But they're expensive. And you don't really like quiches all that much.” “But they're on sale, and what else would I bring to those parties and how long would it take to make it?” “But they're store-bought! What will people think of you?!” And so on.
It took me far too long to realize that one of these voices was my deeper self recognizing a way to make the holiday season easier on myself and one of them was headmind, my super ego, the rule-bound worrier and judger.
This is where I am at – somewhere along the way I lost touch with what I wanted, what would make me happy, and fell into the thrall of vague rules that had encrusted my thinking like barnacles on a shipwreck, to the point that I was constantly making my life harder for myself, refusing to take “short cuts,” and putting off what I wanted for some unspecified future time when I'd have more money or time or energy, creating a life full of obligations and empty of joy.
I bought the box of quiches. And I took some of them to each of the parties I'd been invited to. By the third party, I finally realized what I had done for myself by buying them and what I had been doing to myself for years by refusing to listen to that quiet voice that says, "I'd like that."
It was such a relief to not have to dig through the freezer, to search up recipes and to make something from scratch from what we had on hand. Hours and hours of time freed up, but more importantly, the breathtaking lightness of saying screw you to rules I wasn't fully aware of burdening myself with -- having to be thrifty, to not waste, to cook everything from scratch, a good potluck guest always puts thought and energy into her contribution. Such a relief to say the hell with it, a calorie is a calorie, money comes in and money goes out, and mini-quiches are quite good enough, thank you!
Of course there's nothing wrong with being thrifty, cooking from scratch and being thoughtful, but when it becomes an imperative, when you force yourself to do it even when you don't want to, you mute that inner voice a bit, and if you do it often enough, you can turn it so far down you can't hear it anymore. What you want is a mystery, what will make you happy, a complete blank.
I have spent the last 10 months listening for the tiniest stirrings of excitement, interest or pleasure as I ask myself what I want, over and over again, reconnecting with that inner voice that says what makes me happy and what brings me joy. That voice, which I once thought of as rather self-indulgent, turns out to be vitally important to my health and well-being.
A realization like this was important to me for my particular recovery from chronic fatigue, but I think it's important in a larger sense as well. That quiet voice, our deeper self, that is what almost everyone loses touch with as they grow up from toddler to adult with all the attendant roles and rules of being a good child, good student, good employee, desirable partner, loving spouse, responsible parent, valued community member. (Or believing without a doubt that you are a bad child, a bad student, a rebel, a crappy person, a loner, a loser. Different set of behavior rules, same stuckness.)
Those louder voices, the ones that tell you how to behave, how to fit in, how to look good, to maximize your chances of approval and love, they are all conditioning, all an attempt by one part of your mind to protect you, to keep you from experiencing rejection, hurt or loss.
I made a conscious decision years ago to stop taking actions out of fear, to stop making choices based on what I was afraid could happen. I could see clearly how that was boxing me into a smaller and smaller life, as my headmind seemed to have an inexhaustable supply of things to worry about, ways to imagine something going wrong. I had fed it a diet of dramatic, traumatic stories from the “real world” during my decade as a journalist, then with various fictional worlds and my own inner musings, which over time had devolved into worst-case-scenario leaps of imagination about whatever might be happening, more often than not.
I got that I shouldn't take action based on these worries, which wanted to keep me in such a tiny, narrow, self-protective prison. But I didn't realize how much the roles I was inhabiting were based on fear as well -- fear of rejection, fear of making a mistake, fear of losing someone's love, or esteem. So I am making a resolution to notice when I reject my inner voice and why, to see the rule or the role I am choosing over my own happiness.
I don't think the quiet inner voice gets any louder. I think we might be able to get better at noticing its feeling tone, how it feels differs from super ego, headmind, rule-bound thinking. How it is calmer and somehow more certain. How what it says makes our hearts flutter with a little thrill of happiness.
I do think we need to learn how to turn down the volume on the other voices – the rules, the roles, the worries --through meditation or certain types of journaling, perhaps, by bringing a greater self-awareness to our thinking.
I think the voice that says, “oh, I love that!” or “I want that,” is not self-indulgence. It's happiness speaking. And I am fairly certain it is the same voice that speaks to us as creative muse, sense of humor, and insights large and small.
I am determined to continue excavating, making space for this voice to arise and be heard, this year. I have a few different tools I am using which support this process quite well, and I plan to write more about them.
Reverse Therapy I have covered in my chronic fatigue recovery story. My experience with Marie Kondo's “The Life Changing Magic of Tidying Up” has been a delightful exploration of home life and possessions that truly has been life changing. And I am excited to continue my explorations into Intuitive Eating, after years of food deprivation and trying various extreme diets in a futile attempt to deal with chronic fatigue symptoms.
I know there are other aspects of my life where I have shut down my inner voice (creativity and sexuality spring to mind), so there are definitely plenty of avenues to pursue in this new year, but all of them seem to revolve about this same theme of understanding how I have disconnected from my inner voice and plugging it back in.
