Loving Constant Critic

By Steve Beckow, Golden Age of Gaia

I’m continuing to observe constant critic – a second persona I have within my mind.

There’s me the natural actor and then there’s a constantly-judging, -evaluating, and -condemning voice within me that is always present.

It reacts to every action I take. And it stings with its disapproval.  Eric Berne called it the parent ego state.

Consequently the actor (the natural me) wears this look of long-sufferingness and – I’m told – constantly says “Oh my.” (And I do. I’ve watched myself) Like a prisoner.

Meanwhile constant critic wears several disguises – the scientist (about to dissect you), the human-rights advocate, sovereign individual (offended by your action), etc.  They’re all poses.

And I know I need to love my constant critic before he’ll accept that his part in the play has now ended and he can go.

If we can stop the camera for a minute, and step outside the narrative, what we’re looking at is the structure of the mind.

There is one part of my mind, partitioned off from others, that features two voices – the natural actor and the constant critic. One could say the Self and the Ego. Same difference: We know what we’re pointing at.

And it shows up in my looks, my words, all over the place. It’s just that few of us talk about it or acknowledge that we have this split.

***

Like any good hard drive, my mind is partitioned. And in this partition which I regard as everyday consciousness, these two voices do a dance from morning till night, on everything that happens.

What we resist persists. The situation is not personal. It reflects the way the mind works.

I have to go another route than resisting it.

I choose breath-work.  I breathe love up from my heart on the in-breath and breathe it out on my constant critic, my ego.  Michael did a similar thing with me when I was onboard ship in my lucid dream.

I acknowledge the critic aka ego for its role in keeping me out of harm’s way. I shower it with love.

But what’s equally important – my breath carries and conveys my will.

It’s how I send my love that’s important. And at any moment, what my will is will inform my breath. There’s nothing I can do to mask my intention or its impact on my will. My breath will convey my will.

I breathe my will to convey that it’s time for constant critic to leave the stage now. His part in the play has ended.

Bow to the audience. Take his acknowledgements. And enjoy a peaceful retirement on the Caribbean, with my love and gratitude.

I made a career out of adjudicating. You served me well.

Now I breathe again, drawing love up from my heart, and on the out-breath, I breathe it into me.

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