I believe we all have voices that talk to us–the specter of our parents and how they raised us, the teacher who shamed us in school. I remember the day that I cried at our neighbor’s home, and Mom busted me, saying, “We don’t take emotions to the neighbors. What will they think? If you want to cry, cry in the privacy of your own room!”
I’m not denying what arises, but not giving it energy, either. So the voices are no longer locked up. What I’ve learned to do is notice, and walk on by. Notice, nod a greeting, and turn my attention elsewhere.
© Amrita Skye Blaine, 2013