Working With the Critic

When I was about five or six, while on my bicycle, I rode out in front of a moving car. Luckily, the driver slammed on the brakes and came within inches of hitting me. It occurred outside of my great uncle’s home, who happened to be the town’s police chief. He was quite the intimidating figure, even to the most hardened criminal. He witnessed the incident, began yelling at me, and ordered me to go home immediately. I cried all the way home and not wanting my mother to see me so upset, thus making me tell her of my error, I sat in the woods across from my home until I calmed down. That little girl was swimming in shame. This is the face of my Critic, the intimidating police chief. The C

Listening to Your Inner Voice

We all have a voice running in the background of our minds, interpreting our experiences, and giving us feedback and guidance. At times the voice is kind, and at times horrible. Learning to notice which voice is playing is vital to our health and well being. Let's take a look at them! The Critic Chances are this voice is the one you are most aware of. It follows you around, speaks over your shoulder, whispers awful nothings in your ear, and has one goal—to tear you down. If you have ever said to yourself, “I don’t need enemies as long as I have myself.”, you have an intimate relationship with this voice. The Informer This voice says, “Hey, something’s happening!” and fights to get our a

Making Space

Walking out of the movie theatre from watching The Notebook, my friend stated, “That was an incredibly romantic movie.” to which I replied, “That movie was horrible. It glorified murder/suicide among the elderly.” “What the hell are you talking about?”, my friend exclaimed. We spent the last two hours taking in the same experience, so how is it we interpreted it so differently? And which perspective was correct? A few years ago, my sister and I were discussing our mother. She had passed away when we were in our teens and early twenties. We were speaking of our memories and experiences of her and my sister said, “I don’t know who you are talking about. That’s not how I remember her.” H

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