I scrawled those words in my morning pages this week and immediately wished them back in the pen, unwritten, even unthought.
I hadn’t meant them in a self-congratulatory way. I’d been writing about activities that are fun, intellectually stimulating, healthy – “good for me” in the way that omega-three fatty acids and a thought-provoking novel are.
Still, my own brain reared up and said, “Whoa there, little lady! Who do you think you are?”
I retain (barely) enough control over my mind to wonder “What the heck is that all about?” What do I gain by reining, repressing, censoring my own thoughts? Is that mean little beast in there protecting me somehow? If I were to say aloud, “This is what I did and isn’t it cool?” is anyone going to A) care and B) shoot me?
But boy, I’m quick enough to jump all over myself.
So here’s my new task this year. Instead of trying a new sport or voice lessons or an art class, I’m going to work on getting that inner boot off my neck.
Isn’t that cool? (Glances furtively around the room before stiffening backbone) Good for me!