Dear Inner Critic,
Thank you for sharing with me that I'm not good enough. Oh and that it's too late for me to begin a creative passion because I'm not 17 and fresh out of high school anymore. And that I'm wasting my time and efforts being a receptionist, because others are doing something better than me, I never finish anything.
Plus, I make a lot of mistakels so I'm reckless. As always.
Plus, I make a lot of mistakels so I'm reckless. As always.
And futhermore, thanks for reminding me that I shouldn't let my mind wander because it's way too small to be out by itself. Don't let me forget but... thanks for the daily reminders of how much I resemble a beached wale and how I'm on the fast track to Obesity! I don't know how much more wonderful my day would be without having that HUGE bit of criticism each and every single day.
So...thank you for sharing all that but guess what? YOU'RE boring! You've told me these things over and over and over (and over) and it's just really getting old. You're a monotone "Hitler" and you're still wearing high topped acid washed Jammer pants from the 80s with a fanny pack attached at the waist (not that there's anything wrong with that). I'm starting to listen to the OTHER voice, the lyrical, soothing, and interesting one... Thanks to my "Other Half," I think I found that voice and I know that I didn't find it on my own.
So go write a letter of complaint or whine about the soup at the corner deli. Make an airplane out of flaccid vermicelli. Listen to the cracks in the sidewalk... you may hear the sound of concrete. Get lost!
So...thank you for sharing all that but guess what? YOU'RE boring! You've told me these things over and over and over (and over) and it's just really getting old. You're a monotone "Hitler" and you're still wearing high topped acid washed Jammer pants from the 80s with a fanny pack attached at the waist (not that there's anything wrong with that). I'm starting to listen to the OTHER voice, the lyrical, soothing, and interesting one... Thanks to my "Other Half," I think I found that voice and I know that I didn't find it on my own.
So go write a letter of complaint or whine about the soup at the corner deli. Make an airplane out of flaccid vermicelli. Listen to the cracks in the sidewalk... you may hear the sound of concrete. Get lost!
I'm listening to the voice deep within the recesses of my illustrious personal power that knows... I can defy gravity and that trust is a simple feeling of inner peace, a breath, that lifts me above my fears and into the realm of the possible of permanent inner peace. And GUESS WHAT? I am a little reckless, a little heavier than when I was 14 yrs, and am a receptionist, SO WHAT!?
Nevertheless.. never!
Sincerely,
Meredith
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