Thoughout our lives, there have been a copious amount of critics. Ya know, those prosaic beings that seem to enjoy pointing out every conceivable error of our ways?
These critics have the potential to push every single one of our buttons if we let them. I mean, who the hell wants their so-called flaws hi-lighted? Nonetheless what if, unbeknownst to them, these critics are actually helping us by poking their fingers in our wounds? As much as we'd like to kick them right in the slats, I think instinctively we know that if we're triggered, there is something unresolved within us that needs processing.
These critics instigate us to feel. As these feelings begin bubbling up to the surface we sometimes want to grab hold of anything that will keep us from drowning in the depths of our own anguish. Let's be honest, processing our shit is the scariest fucking journey we will ever take! It involves facing our fears, our insecurities, our pain, our trauma.
However, if we persevere, this inner delving will eventually lead us right through the eye of the needle - that point where we let go of fear and slip beyond those dark places within ourselves and out the other side. It is then, that we start to appreciate the gifts these critics have presented to us. It is then, that our own inner-critic exhales into sweet slumber, and it is then, that we stand genuine, no longer concerned with what other people think.
It is the exquisite journey back to our power.