Advice to “let it go” or “let them” triggers a resistance within me. It travels from deep in my belly up to my brain. My annoyance is further exacerbated by the speed-talking nasal drone of a particular podcaster. She uses examples of toxic, hurtful and disempowering behaviours as throwaways . . . you’ll feel better once you’ve decided to just let them. It is not in my DNA to ignore, enable or otherwise push down or aside something that has grabbed my attention. Years ago, in a therapy session, I commiserated that I had been told, books had been written, and wise people preached the gospel of letting go. You can’t do that; you crave connection. She had seen me, given me permission to buck the trend of “Hakuna Matata”.
Last week I attended a spiritual retreat focused on yoga, meditation and breathwork. The jungle setting was a kaleidoscope of thick green, with views of the blue Pacific, frothy white waves and an endless sand beach. Each day, we lay on mats listening to music and chants that seeped into my soul. I heard words and mantras that challenged my stories and moved my muscles and bones gently beyond their normal limits. My mind, body and spirit were in constant states of peaceful insights and resets. Bobbing in the warm ocean as we watched the sunset each evening reminded me of my humble insignificance in the vastness of the land and sea.
I had arrived at the retreat with the intention of silencing my inner critic. Her name is Edna. I’ve written about her, to her and at her for years. She holds the strategies and energy that diminish and detach me from myself. She tells me what to do to please others, be better, do more, fix my body, hair, clothes, and home, and try to be worthy of attention and affection. She exhausts me.
There is a common saying when doing inner work. You might not get what you want, you will always get what you need.
Edna is not leaving me. I didn’t come back with her eulogy written out. Over the course of the week, I discovered that she lives in my subconscious. This is a space of muted colours and constant flow and movement. It manages 95% of my behaviours and habits. It is the keeper of my comfort zones, past experiences and beliefs. It holds my long-term memories. With mindfulness, meditation, writing, and other tools for emotional growth, I can lay down new neural pathways. I have the capacity to shift my beliefs and patterns. To recognize the voice of Edna without buying into her diatribe.
While exploring my childhood and emotional evolution, I discovered that Edna played a significant role in keeping me safe and moving me forward and seeking success. She was the driver for me to get attention from my father, to challenge the boys club and glass ceiling in the corporate world, to take risks and seek power. By reminding me that I wasn’t enough, she made me work harder, faster and longer. At everything.
Recognizing and respecting her place in my psyche, while trusting myself and leaning into being authentic and compassionate, frees me of her disparaging nature. When I’m stressed or tired, and she sneaks a peek and comments, I don’t have to attach to it or even believe it. The Buddhist teacher, Pema Chodron, advises we examine and move through both the unpleasant and pleasant.
Loving all pieces of me is my Intrepid Challenge.