I hear many voices.
But wait—before you block me—it's not like that.
Not actual voices, don't you worry.
Not like Sybil. Remember her? That beautiful and painful book by Flora R. Schreiber?
That's not me.
My voices are thoughts, stubbornly taking up headspace. So much that my own voice gets muffled, and I lose my spark.
Do you have those?
"The enemy of our God-given best self rarely shows up as a complete lie."
— Ruth Schleppi-Verboom
One voice tells me nobody is interested in the stories I tell.
Another suggests I don't matter much.
Or that I am lazy. And not really fun.
It's because I do everything half, it says.
And then brings up a conversation I had in 1992, and what I should have said instead.
Super helpful.
There's one that likes to remind me of all the things I haven't done, haven't finished, haven't accomplished.
And then there's the grand finale:
You just don't have it in you. It will never change. Better give up.
Voices
Just Ask
5 Years Old
You don't have to be an Oprah to know that these thoughts are toxic. I get that. For many years I have ignored, rebuked, argued, and believed them. Determined, yet gullible.
It didn't help much. I still believe them, at times.
I am 58 and So-Over-This.
I had to get to the bottom of these voices and initiated a highly scientific research plan. With tea, sisters, girlfriends, and an occasional glass of rosé.
I asked about their voices and many came close to mine.
That surprised me, I thought I was the only one.
Others were different, but had the same effect.
Different ages.
Different backgrounds.
Different personalities.
Different lives.
Different stories, same ache.
We found three categories of voices:
Some of them are pure nonsense.
These we should let go.
Today.
Really, let it go.
Some are wise and practical.
They warn us about mistakes.
To these we can listen, but no need to build them a pedestal.
And then there are the tricky ones.
These voices are the ones that confuse us. The ones that hold truth.
A tiny bit of truth.
Ouch.
nobody likes my stories.
Not true.
Not everyone likes my stories.
True.
Therefore I should stop writing.
Not true.
I don't finish things.
Not true.
I procrastinate when I am overwhelmed.
True.
Therefore I will fail again.
Not true.
I am always sneaky and annoying.
(This was something my aunt told me when I was 5 years old after I took some candy and dropped a glass jar. Unbeknownst to her, she planted the seed that I was too much.)
Not true.
That was clumsy and I should have asked.
True.
Everyone thinks I am too much and not enough.
Not true.
I don't remember the candy and I don't remember whether I was sneaky.
But I do remember being a sweet, gregarious, curious, 5 year old, who liked candy…
And I remember how I felt that afternoon. Even now, writing about this incident 53 years ago, I feel what I felt that day.
It is difficult to accept that children forget the event, but remember the conclusion.
When my girlfriends and I talked about the voices we believe, we noticed another pattern.
The most stubborn voices start with a sliver of truth.
Seemingly innocent, yet it can have an overwhelming effect on the person we are created to be.
And I realized that the enemy of our God-given best self rarely shows up as a complete lie.
That would be too easy, because a ridiculous lie we would all dismiss. But instead the enemy plants a tiny seed. A seed that holds a tiny bit of truth and lets us do the rest.
Leave it to our minds. My goodness!
Our minds will nurture, ponder, inhale, and grow this tiny bit of truth.
We'll bake a whole loaf out of it.
And before we know it that tiny truth becomes a new thing.
It has grown huge and takes up all our headspace.
And most importantly, it is now far from the truth.
It has become an utter, ugly lie.
And since it started as true, we carry it as truth.
Sometimes many, many years.
And the ugly lie stands in the way of us stepping into the best version of ourselves.
Our God-given best self.
When I realized the effect it had on me, that little thing my aunt told me so long ago, I revisited that afternoon.
And I felt the shame and the pain my five year old felt.
But I also realized that of all the things I am, I am not sneaky and annoying.
That was profound.
My aunt didn't really know me, and was probably just irritated by all these kids running around her spotless kitchen. I forgave her, that was not hard to do.
And I realized I should have asked.
And that was it.
That was really all there was to it.
The danger isn't that these tiny truths hurt our feelings.
We can handle that.
But the real danger to our God-given best self, is when they become conclusions.
The voices will probably never stop. For all of us.
But we can learn to listen differently.
Not every voice deserves our attention.
Not every voice gets to tell us who we are.
And certainly not who we are becoming.
Questions:
-
Is there a lie that stands in the way of who God created you to be?
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Which voices have been taking up space in your head lately? What is their tiny truth? Have they become uninvited occupants?
Let them go.
Aknowledge the small truth they reveal: 'Thank you, Noted. Goodbye.'
And that is all. Don't make them larger than they are. -
What do you do when the voices get loud and overwhelming?
I put on this playlist on my daily walk. And everytime, it helps me gain a better perspective of my God-given best self.
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