Tag Archives: Truth




I’m sixty-four years old. I’ve been traveling this winding road that is my life long enough to have a pretty good sense of how it’s going. I am introspective. I think about things. I pay attention. Still, I keep an open mind. I listen; I learn. I have little “Ah-ha” moments, and often slight shifts in action or thought patterns. At this stage in my life, though, it is rare to come upon something or someone that offers an entirely fresh perspective. And yet, in recent weeks it has happened many times over!

The first was the book, Big Magic, by Elizabeth Gilbert. I thought everything had already been said that could be said about creativity, and that I had already read it all. For those reasons, and because I wasn’t a huge fan of previous work by that author, I almost passed it by. I’m so glad I didn’t!

The second was a consultation with a psychic that I treated myself to, for my birthday. I told her about a burden in my life, and how I got myself involved in it. “It was ego on my part,” I said, “and greed.” I went on to explain my reasoning. She waved it off. “It doesn’t sound like ego to me,” she said, “and maybe a bit of desperation, but not greed. You should quit beating yourself up about that.” Immediately¬† as I heard the words, I knew it was the truth.

Currently, I’m reading Better Than Before (Mastering the Habits of Our Everyday Lives) by Gretchen Rubin. Her best-selling book, The Happiness Project was entertaining, and I expected more of the same. This book goes so much deeper! Her husband put it this way:

“With your books about happiness, you were trying to answer the question ‘how do I become happier?’ And this habits book is ‘No, seriously, how do I become happier?’

As with the creativity book and the psychic reading, I am not getting information that is brand new to me. Rather, it is knowledge that I already have, presented in such a way that it clarifies everything that I already know and gives me a brand new way of interpreting and using that knowledge.

To be given clarification through the offering of a fresh point of view – not once, but one after another – is a surprising and wonderful gift!




Talking to Myself



I do it all the time.

Talk to myself, that is.

I live alone.

I’ve always been a loner.

Much of the time the conversation is only going on inside my head, but sometimes I talk out loud.

I’m the only voice I hear most days, out here in my home on the Fox Lake Road.

I could suggest that I’m talking to the dogs, but even they can tell the difference.

I talk to myself at work. As I walk into the kitchen to pick up an order, I’m often reminding myself what I need to grab in the way of condiments and side dishes. As I arrange the plates and bowls on the tray, heaviest items in the center, all handles turned in, tall items squeezed between other things so that they won’t topple, I’ll say, “Okay, don’t anybody move,” as I lift the tray over my head. I am often unaware that I’m speaking until Kathy comes around from behind the grill to ask “WHAT?!?” From the look on my face, she determines that the conversation was only with me; she rolls her eyes, waves her hand and goes back to her station.

I talk to myself while walking the dogs. I work out ideas for class plans or art projects. I work out furniture arrangements or planting schemes. I hold imaginary conversations. I assert myself in ways I rarely would in real life. I replay discussions. I never speak out of turn, lose my temper or say mean things, in these talks. I am also never prevented from speaking my truth.

Lately, I’ve been spending quite a bit of time defending myself, to myself, in conversations in my mind.

It seems like I’ve been fielding a lot of criticism lately.¬† More people, in just the last two years, have felt the need to tell me I am lacking – and how, and why – than have in the last thirty years! I’ve questioned whether I am in some way inviting negative opinions. I have not been requesting critiques! Of course, there is some truth in everything that is said. That does not mean it is a valid or necessary insult. I’m often not in a position to defend myself.

That’s where talking to myself proves invaluable.

It helps to sort the truths from the exaggerations and distortions. It helps to clarify who I am, despite how others choose to interpret my words or actions. It helps me to move forward and away from the hurt.

When I was told that I am an inconsequential story-teller, I said – petulantly – “my stories are too consequential!”

When my boss found fault with my scheduling on a regular basis, I defended the over-staffing or under-staffing – to myself, in imaginary conversations – just as regularly.

When I was told I never really stood up for anything, I had long, grumbling talks with myself. “I marched for Peace in the ’60s!”, “I fought for the Equal Rights Amendment in the ’70s!”, “I have voted in every single election!” , “I left two good jobs to stand for my principles!”

When it was suggested that my service was not up to standard…well, the conversation in my head turned into the blog titled “Dear Harry”. If you’ve read it, you have an idea the way my mind works when on the defensive!

When I was told I was not working hard enough to maintain a friendship, I talked to myself until I was able to talk – and clear the air – with my friend.

Most recently I have received a letter filled with a one-sided account of an unfortunate encounter. It makes me look pretty sorry, indeed: petty, mean-spirited and vengeful. If it were wholly untrue, it would be easier to brush it off. Because there is truth to it, and because of the source, I don’t take it lightly. Because it was delivered with a clear directive to not respond, I am impotent to clarify or work it out…except in talking to myself.

So, that’s what I’ve been doing.

Do you talk to yourself? I’d love to know I’m not alone!