Adventures in Meditation III

“An inner voice always used to be an outer voice.” –The School of Life
___________________________________________________________

One day,
I summon the courage
to ask my inner critic
a question:
“why are you so mean to me all the time?”
I ask it with curiosity,
acceptance,
and non-defensiveness.
My inner critic
breaks down crying.
“Because everyone else was so mean to me,”
it replies.

Suddenly, I realize
that the perpetrator in me
and the victim in me
are just the hard and soft manifestations
of the same pain.

_______________________

Other poems in this series:
Adventures in Meditation 1: https://wordpress.com/post/musings-and-music.com/1529
Adventures in Meditation 2: https://wordpress.com/post/musings-and-music.com/1722

Part of the Family

I finally see the mean inner voices for what they are:
part of the family.
I’m never going to eradicate them.
Fear,
self-doubt,
self-criticism,
and depression
will always be in the car
in the road trip of my life–
a month from now,
a year from now,
ten years from now.
And that’s okay.
They can be here–
as long as they know their place.
They sit in the back.
They sit shotgun.
They are not the driver.
I repeat:
They are not the driver.

*Credit where credit is due: this poem is a paraphrase of a part of Big Magic, by Elizabeth Gilbert.*

Bat-Shit Crazy

Looking back on our relationship,
sometimes I wonder
if you really hurt me
or if I was just bat-shit crazy.

My conclusion?
I was bat-shit crazy.

But that doesn’t mean
you didn’t hurt me.

__________________________________________________________

Note from the author: Just wanted to remind anyone who needs to hear it that there is no “perfect victim” of trauma. Even in light of your imperfections, your pain is valid. ❤