Ousting the Tyrant

I've been away from my computer for the past few days and I noticed how challenged I felt to return today. Its not that I don't enjoy writing my blog, its more like a feeling of stiffness and disuse.It takes a few keystrokes to loosen up. The clue for me today was noticing how tempted I was to ramble on as I wrote an email to a friend. Once my fingers started moving, a whole conversation started pouring out. It was then I recognized that I've been in conversation with myself for the past little while and I didn't like where it was taking me.


It seems that when I'm not writing, the conversation in my head starts moving faster and faster, swirling like dust in the wake of a speeding car. I think I am both the speeding car and the dust! Part of me keeps moving ahead and the other bits, things like habitual thoughts, keep swirling and spinning until they settle down again, resigned to be obsolete. Sometimes that road looks mighty dusty! And sometimes there is more dust on my car than I care to admit!

Writing seems to help those repeated thoughts find their home. I can only stand to write the same thing a few times over (alright - some times its closer to 20 -30 times over!) before I get the message and do something about it. Its really difficult to face yourself on the page or the screen only to discover that you are still whining, rambling, wishing , hoping... you get the picture. It gives me great insight into the murmuring that goes on under the surface. Murmurs that I have long since grown bored of and now try to tune out. Murmurs that become insistent over time and begin to wear down familiar paths simply by virtue of their repetition.

Giving those murmurs voice is a the start of a making a choice. I can stick with the very familiar refrain and in doing so admit to myself that I am making a conscious choice to whine, ramble and generally marinate in this state. Alternatively, I can begin to choose something different.

Lately I've been marinating in thoughts of body image. I tell myself over and over again how fat I am ... all the while eating mini-chocolate bars! I remind myself that I really should get moving ... and by this I mean more than simply chew, chew, swallow!

I am even catching myself in the midst of the most unlikely moments taking pot shots at myself. Yesterday while enjoying the musical Dirty Dancing, I was taking in the incredibly toned and flexible physiques of the dancers (not just the guys, I swear!) and I could hear myself whispering, "you'll never look that fit". Well of course not! Unless I plan to join a professional dance troupe, rehearse for hours every day for the next 10 years and in the process, turn back my biological clock by about the same number of years. Acckkk! What a crazy-making Tyrant I have living in my head!

And I continue to feed that nasty Tyrant ... both food and energy. I listen to it. I let it walk all over me. I take on its messages about how I can never be enough and I have to ask myself WHY??!!

I'm not really sure I have the answer. I suspect that it is partially because, as nasty as this critter is, it is familiar. It has occupied such a large position in my psyche that there would be a tremendous void if I were to exorcise it. I suppose it might be a bit like an abusive relationship in that it soothes me by telling me its looking out for my best interests. Its making sure that I keep on top of things. It is there to motivate me to prove myself and to perform, perform, perform. Its keeping me from becoming too noticeable. It keeps me "humble". It saves me from failing by encouraging me never to try and it reminds me of all the past losses and gains. And it heaps shame on my head for ever thinking I could be successful at shaping my outside to fit my inside.

Well, here is the thing - I'm tired to listening to the Tyrant. I'm tired of it's use and abuse. I'm tired of giving up precious mental, emotional and spiritual real estate for it to squat on like the worst tenant a landlord could imagine. I'm tired of allowing it to shape me - inside and out, because I DO look like it tells me I should. Its brand of protection is more like extortion. I am not willing to continue to pay the price any more.

I have no idea where this leads but I do know the Tyrant has its little fingers in just about every aspect of my thinking. Heck! If it even shows up at the theatre while I'm having a good time, then its gotten even further out of check than I had noticed. As for the void this nasty saboteur will leave behind, - BRING IT ON! I can't wait to see what will sprout in its place one this weed is removed.

Now I know that somewhere along the line, my Tyrant was a useful creation but oh my, has it outworn its usefulness. I dare say it has now moved from nuisance to menace. I simply cannot allow it to continue to flourish because its choking the life out of other things - including me. Its stealing enjoyment and self-confidence. Its eating up energy and sending me seeking ways to refuel myself ... ways that include chocolate binges.

So for the next few days I will give the Tyrant its opportunity to share its whining, wheedling voice on my journal pages so that it can blow itself out. Like so many bullies, I'm pretty sure that once it is revealed for the weak-kneed, controlling and shallow creature that it is, it will beat a hasty retreat. Most often its messages are more than ridiculous, they are not even founded on reality! So instead of meekly accepting them with head bowed, I'm going to stare it in the eye and give it a reality check, question, get curious about and quite possibly talk back to it. And in the end, I will simply choose to stop empowering this part of myself because it is no longer required.

And what about the part of me that is speeding ahead? Well, it is a creative fire that is growing hotter by the day. I am simply bursting with ideas, possibilities and pure joy. I found myself giggling over the Spider cupcakes I made for my son's class and the gnarly Witch's Finger cookies I baked that looked so realistic. I'm knitting. I'm writing. I'm planning the decor of our new home. I'm cooking. I'm playing. And somewhere in the midst of it all, I noticed the thought "I'm not willing to give up all this joy ever again."

I know that in the past I have squeezed out those things to make room for work and obligation. Even now, I fight the urge to be in constant motion -cleaning, organizing, packing. Doing things joylessly simply because I call them work. This week I finally allowed myself to notice that I can do them all joyfully. That my creativity is in how I choose to do them. Those tasks aren't penance in order to get back to what I enjoy - they are part of the whole dance. One feeds the other and I get to decide how much pleasure I take in living my life. Score one for me, none for the Tyrant on this front. No wonder it is pressing its cause these days. It must sense impending annihilation!