A couple of weeks ago a girlfriend of mine arrived at my door to “pick me up” so we could walk down to the local English pub--a dark, dingy, kind of gross bar.
She showed up in a casual dress.
I took one look at her and said, “I’ll be right back. I need to change.” I went upstairs and put on my own dress.
As I went upstairs a little voice in my head was saying, "What the hell are you doing? Why are you changing clothes? What is this all about?"
My point exactly.
This change of clothes prompted a really great conversation as we made our way down the hill to the pub. It’s actually a conversation that I have had a few times now.
When you get dressed, who is it for?
Each week I sit down to write these posts, and inside my head there is a voice urging me to stop. Urging me to do something else. Urging me to keep my thoughts to myself. Telling me that my writing isn’t good enough. Telling me that people don’t really want to read what I have to say. Telling me that I am saying too much, revealing too much.
It is the voice of my inner critic, and it goes back 20 years.
Like all university Freshman I had to decide on a major soon after I arrived on campus. I knew that I wanted to be a teacher, so I knew that education would be one major, but I had to decide what I actually wanted to teach. That would be my second major. I loved to write and I loved to read, so my choice was pretty obvious.
I would be an English major.
But then, I wasn’t.
“I am sorry.”
It has recently come to my attention that I say these three words WAY too much.
It seems as though I have taken the phrases “Excuse Me,” “Pardon Me,” and “Sorry” and rolled them all into one. I have developed a reflexive “I am sorry” and I use it way too often.
I am not the only one.
Yesterday morning I went for a run and then decided to take a dip in the pool to cool myself off. Since it was only 9:00 in the morning, I knew the water was going to be chilly. I slowly eased myself down onto the ladder and hung my legs over the side. Yep, it was cold. I sat there for awhile just relaxing into the coolness on my legs. I knew I wanted to take the plunge, but I needed a bit more time. After a few more breaths, I dove right in.
Life can be just like a swimming pool.