My Inner Saboteur

This is what I do when the saboteur grabs hold of me and I lose myself in self-doubt: I wrap myself in a thick quilt of silence and walk backward as far as I can until I find a big, dark shadow to stand in, a large, tall tree to hide behind, and I sit there, far from anyone, and listen to the volume rising on the voice within me telling me I am not enough.

It would take so little to keep me from going there, so little to mute the voice of my saboteur. All I need is the proof that I have done something meaningful, or have someone look me in the eye and tell me, with clear conviction, that there is no means to measure the enormity of my worth.

But by the time I need it, I don’t allow myself to seek this proof, I am too far gone to look anyone in the eye. Shame keeps my sight locked on the ground.

And then I inhabit the shadow, and waste away my gifts, until a miracle, a sliver of sunlight, hits me and gives me just enough strength to remember I have a tool box. And I reach in with my last ounce of strength and have to pull myself along, out of the darkness, inch by inch, using every last resource, every last tool to save myself from my own self-doubts.

And I know this is exactly what happens for my clients, although they may visualize the process differently: they retreat into themselves, where the voice of self-judgment is loudest, and spiral into depression and paralysis.

But we don’t have to do that! And, just because I have the tools doesn’t mean I should create the conditions in which I need them. I can choose another way. I can recognize the voice of my saboteur, and lower the volume on it immediately! I can take the wisdom from its message, without having to accept the self-hatred and vitriol as well. And I also teach my clients how to do that, because none of us has to live in the shadow.

We take to the shadows, with the saboteur at full volume, until sunlight hits.
Photo Credit: Andreas Krappweis

Under the Surface

I have entered the entrails of the Earth. As I expected to, I found darkness there. But also, surprisingly, warmth, color, and life. Entering Kartchner Caverns, I discovered that, under the surface, under the soil, whole worlds unfold, on a timeline of such vastness that my own life span does not cause even the slightest mark on it.

I observed such magnificence and beauty, made of water and stone, minerals and time, that, even standing in its presence, my mind could not fully grasp it: water carved limestone, calcite draping, gleaming crystals reaching in minuscule fractions of time and space to meet the columns dripping one drop at a time.

This is what lies beneath the surface.

Column, over 58 feet tall, in Kartchner Caverns State Park. Photo by Noelle Wilson, Arizona State Parks postcard

 

Stalactites, Stalagmites and flowstone in a room the size of a football field. Arizona State Parks postcard, no photographer credit provided.