Late Sunday echoes: A conversation within

Silencing voices that make me cringe, and ignoring voices that don’t feel like home.

Welcome to my short, yet stretched walk with Criticism this past week.

There he was directing me toward the feeling of “less than.” Walking me through thoughts that wound the heart, so painful I can feel my spirit tearing in two directions, but I keep on walking anyway. A few more steps, listening as it is rude to interrupt…

I made a mistake at work, or rather I didn’t perform as well as I usually do. Instead of accepting it and moving forward, I sat with the mistake longer than needed. I forgot that the environment isn’t always supportive for creativity and effort, at least for that hour. There he was, Criticism, seeking someone to blame, and it was just the two of us, so the finger pointed at me. For a while I was quiet; I guess my silence was approval of everything he said. Unaware I was agreeing with him.

How dare I momentarily forget how I pride myself on diligence, on showing up with passion and enthusiasm, finding a way to finish things well. Here I was, torturing myself over one misstep. How do I say it? I allowed myself to give Criticism more time than he deserved, and everything he said was becoming my voice. The wound pressed longer than it should have.

Negative emotions don’t just feel right. That’s how I escaped, said goodbye to Criticism and welcomed Truth and support. As I embraced Truth, I felt the reminder that I’m always doing more right than wrong.

These are my words to Truth: you are beautiful. You are necessary to ground me, to bring me home and embrace me, and through this you empower me. You see me, and when necessary you correct me in love, and that makes me a better person. I am grateful for you, dear Truth.

Dear reader, I wrote this while listening to “Last Breath” by Christian

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