The Weight of Whispers

I Hear You
Please Get Off My Shoulder
Who is this person trespassing on my shoulder? How dare you interfere with my thought process. Although I do not ask, you are relentless in offering your opinion. Please know that I hear you. Over the years, I worked to tame your incessant reprimands and shoulds. Now often only a mere whisper - you linger on as an annoyance. The constant tug-of-war is exhausting, unproductive, and must cease.
I am no longer embarrassed to confess to your existence. For years I successfully hid you behind the facade of my work - my comfort zone.
Go ahead - judge me. You have done so for years - and harshly. Acknowledging your presence does not make accepting you even slightly palatable. However, discovering your identity provides relief and helps me view your untimely, unwelcome, and unconstructive comments within a new frame of reference.
You are remarkable in knowing how to remain hidden and soft-spoken until the perfect moment to attack. I can easily slip and allow your voice to penetrate my thinking and manipulate my actions. While I want to berate myself during these unpredictable occurrences, I applaud with enthusiasm instead. Yes, like exercising a muscle - I grow stronger as I experience each invasion. I now see you as an excellent coach, and I thank you.
As I delete the lengthy list of things you say I should do, or how to do, I swat you off my shoulder. I now have a definitive answer to the agonizing dilemma of your identity. Knowing this allows me a unique listening providing peace and freedom. Yes, the whispers continue, but I maintain an understanding and appreciation of their genesis and embrace only constructive criticism. I can now modify my perspective to what I once considered an unyielding annoyance - you, my dear friend, are me.
Psst - I hear you.
Under certain circumstances, you are welcome to stay.
Comments on this post (9)
Jiminy Cricket has always been a favorite character of mine. But, like you, I don’t want him around all the time. sometimes he needs to be ignored and damn the consequences.
— Muffy Lutzin
EXCELLENT!!!! We can’t run from our thoughts they are ALLways present…It’s all about how we respond to those thoughts….and possibly the buried, trapped emotions underneath those thoughts. The question I have asked myself through many many many years —well decades to be honest….Who’s the driver??? -- the thoughts and in my case the reactions to those emotions that have been trapped inside. My new game with myself is pausing in the middle of the emotional outburst with the new thought—-DOES it really matter? Eventually I learned I had to find the right words to calm my out-of-control emotional behavior. It’s a never ending job…I have done "behavior modification on myself since the early ’70’s…I still feel I am flunking the emotional master course…;o) But nevertheless, Debra, your writings are helping me to new levels of evolving me. I look forward to each blog you post…with a smile in my heart…love u Carolyn~
— Carolyn
Beautifully and poignantly written. Spoke volumes to my inner voice. Quietly poking and prodding.
— Leigh Toborowsky
WOW! You really can capture what is inside of you and allow me, the reader, to know the depth of how you live your life. Another applaud from the sister gallery. ❤️
— Marilyn
Be kind and generous to ourselves. Powerful message. Beautifully expressed, I didn’t want it to end. You have such a gift, Debra.
Wishing you good health, joy, love, and peace in the coming year. I love you, dear cousin.
Shanah Tova.
🍎🍯🙏💙
— Nan Levy
Another well thought masterpiece. Against our better nature, our shoulder dweller can sometimes takeover. We must learn to love ourselves more. Beautifully expressed my friend. ❤️
— Julie Perry
Love this, Debra! We truly can be our own worst enemy…be kinder to ourselves💞
— Laura Ashley
Wonderfully written. We all have a trespasser on our shoulder…..
I will have to reread this many times as I face my fears of finally silencing my own trespasser!
Sending you love!
— Karen solstad
Love it! Amazing! Love, Betty
— Betty Rickenbacker