Silencing the Inner Critic
It’s not that I am being really hard on myself and full of self-doubt. It’s just that it feels like the Inner Critic needs to be quieted so I can hear from someone or something else. The thing about Inner Critic, (the part I depend on most) is she keeps Her Highness Delusions of Grandeur in check. That’s not really her name, that‘s the one Inner Critic gives her. Her real name is High Hopes. I have loved HH, maybe too much; but the jealous Inner Critic keeps my affections in check.
These sisters, High Hopes and Inner Critic, know all my dreams. But for HH concealing my heart’s desires is a burden and I know there are times when she wants to sit under the interrogation light, inside the confessional, on the witness stand and reveal one little wish, just to see if someone would BELIEVE alongside us.
I suppose that’s what I love about intercessory prayers in church; some person had the courage to be completely vulnerable and admit a want or need. Someone brought a prayer, a secret wish – hope - desire, to the pastor so he would proclaim it OUTLOUD, to people – some who are nameless strangers, hoping someone would BELIEVE alongside them. I mean what are the odds that someone would BELIEVE in your dream when you’re not sure you believe in yourself?
Coming from a family who takes pride in providing FREE Supersized reality checks, blunt criticism, and condemnation I wouldn’t DARE assume anyone should, could or would BELIEVE alongside me. Or so Inner Critic reminds me.
Anyway, High Hopes has been quiet . . . because I don’t know what to want. I don’t know what to be. I don’t know what to do. It feels like dreaming is just that, transient images in my head without the vigor of ambition, an urgency to satisfy, the need to share. An emotional Bermuda Triangle. At night I'm awake, but the sky is overcast, no stars to follow.
In church prayers end with “if it BE Your will.”
God, show me where North is . . . (you say the rest)
