Ever notice that we tend to be our hardest critics — especially when critique is the last thing we need? That tends to be the case with me and, these days of late, it’s intensified tenfold.
Interestingly enough, my harsh critique has come out while doing a few of things that have brought me the most joy. Sure, I have the usual look-in-the-mirror and think “bleach,” but that occasional occurrence is somewhat normal. I do okay with that. I know it will pass. It’s the other stuff — the stuff that brings forth joy and enthusiasm — that this disparagement has a way of crippling me.
Take tonight’s yoga class for example. Poses which I can generally perform with much effort but still somewhat successfully were not happening. The voice in my head started off with a simple questioning. “What’s wrong with you today?” I muddled on, trying to ignore the voice which demanded an answer time and time again — in response to my more frequent than usual shortcomings. I tried to override it with encouragement and forgiveness. But once in savasana the answer came.