Inner Critic, Fired.

It is very late. Almost midnight.

I have just 20 minutes to check my post and actually post it before the day ends. But I will do it. I promised that I would bring myself each day and write. I had a few ideas ready to go. After spending hours looking through job ads, reading responsibilities and qualifications for thoses jobs, I needed to go back a little ways. This was a post I wrote several months ago when I was starting to write again after a very long break.

The Inner Critic

Most of us have heard the voice in our head. Not the one that tells us how successfull we will be, or how beautiful our creations are, but the other one. The one that tells us, “Don’t bother painting, nobody will see” or “nobody likes what you write”, or “that blog is much better than yours”. Some days it is easy to ignore it, or turn it down so it becomes like static whispering .

On other days, for me, on the days, I am about to put a deep amount of passion into my project, the voice gets louder and louder. It is more persistent. There is no “shushing” it. If I let it, that voice will keep me from creating.

That’s when I decided to FIRE THE VOICE! (for me, it is an old bald man, wearing a sweater vest and glasses)

Here is the dismissal poem I gave to my inner critic:

Firing My Inner Critic

“I’m letting you go.

I’m saying good-bye to your harsh tones and your sandpaper words

that scrape away

the soft parts of my heart.

I’m turning away,

Leaving you standing with your arms crossed and

frown lines on your face

and tapping your foot.

Its not working for me

to have you shred my skin away and

expose the broken bones beneath while

you hide under the bed inside your glass house.

I’m letting you go.

I’m saying good-bye before I pick ups stones and

you and I are the same.”

He packed up his briefcase, rather reluctanctly, walked out the door.

He does pop in from time to time, unwelcome and uninvited, and I send him back on his way.

Somedays, though, I beckon him. I ask him to come sit with me while I edit. He guides me then, ever so kindly. The inner critic can do things that I cannot do. He tosses out my precious lines when they aren’t quite right; he moves paragraphs, and kills of characters for the sake of the story. These are his strengths.

He has been fired from permanent employment. Now, he is just a brief consultant.

Read a great post about Giving Your head the Pink Slip at  www.theamazonheart.com