"What better way to bond than by sharing a meal together." Isn't that just right? Food has always been a glue for socialization - even during the "cave people" era food was the magnet to gather people around.
I am prefacing with that because it occured to me that the right of passage for me to get to know people better would be thru food. I love to eat (in moderation, of course) and so do the people in my circle.
Whenever meals are shared, breads are broken, and beverages are drank, there is an exchange of a variety of stories and tons of laughter across the dinner table. This is what exactly happened last Friday night. It was one of the best Fridays this month by far - work-wise lol.
I got to know more about my workmates! It made me get a handle on understanding them better and why they do what they do. I could say it heightened my empathy and compassion towards them. It was definitely a special moment.
🍕🍝🍗🍻
Echoes to Allies: Transforming the Inner Critic into Your Champion
From: The LinkedIn Newsletter đź’Ś
"The only real conflict you will ever have in your life won’t be with others, but with yourself." — Shannon L. Alder
In the silence of my own contemplation, a voice often pierces the quiet—a critical one that seems to know just where to cut deepest. We all harbor an internal dialogue, a critic that scrutinizes every decision, every misstep. It’s a universal symphony of self-doubt that plays in the background of our minds, sometimes so subtly we don’t even notice its constant hum. This is the voice that has chaperoned me throughout life, a relentless whisper that had not always been my own but one I've come to recognize as eerily familiar—the echo of my late mother’s admonishments.
This voice, with its familiar tone and timbre, became a tenant in the recesses of my mind, filling the void with echoes of past conversations and old reprimands. It's a haunting remnant of a bond that shaped me, of the formative words of my first teacher in life. These phrases, once external guidance, morphed into the chisel that incessantly sculpted my self-esteem, turning every action into an exhaustive quest for approval. This lingering maternal presence in my psyche not only directed my actions but also colored the canvas of my mental health with shades of doubt.
For years, I wrestled with this spectral critic, fighting its assertions with the ferocity of a cornered animal. It was a war of attrition within the battleground of my own mind, where every rebuke was met with a counter-argument, every negative thought with a positive affirmation. But the more I resisted, the louder it bellowed, until I found myself weary from the strife. It was in this weariness that I stumbled upon a new strategy, almost by accident—an approach not of confrontation but of detached observation. I began to listen to the critic without engaging, to hear the words without absorbing them, a silent witness to the monologue of my own insecurities.
This method of coping, of observation without reaction, altered something fundamental in the relationship with my inner critic. It was as if the act of stepping back disempowered the voice, stripping it of its authority. I noticed a shift; the criticisms became questions, the harshness turned to curiosity, and what was once a barrage of judgment became a dialogue of self-exploration. This voice, which had once been my greatest adversary, was transforming into an inquisitive guide.
The transformation led me to a realization about the roots of this need for approval. Isn't it the child within us all that craves the nod of acceptance from our parents? I saw that the yearning for my mother's approval had not died with her but had been internalized, metamorphosing into this critic. As I continued to observe, not engage, I began to foster a sense of self-approval that no external validation could match. The voice had changed because I had fulfilled its underlying need by validating myself.
Within you whispers a voice of critique, but it is within your power to transform it into a chorus of wisdom, guiding you towards self-acceptance and inner peace. Embrace the journey.
And so here I stand, at a crossroads of self-reflection and realization. It's a place where the clamor of criticism, both internal and external, has lost much of its power over me. Through the act of stepping back, of watching the critic without becoming embroiled in its drama, I’ve learned the art of self-approval. I've discovered that controlling my reactions to this internal voice is the cornerstone of a newfound peace.
Do you recognize your inner critic? Have you heard a familiar voice directing your path? My hope is that in my story, you find the courage to observe, not wrestle, with your own critic. Perhaps in doing so, you too will transform a once-critical voice into one of inquisitive support, learning that the ultimate approval comes not from the echoes of our past, but from the peace we find within.
My friends, I want to speak directly to your hearts today. Each one of us has an inner voice that often takes the shape of our fiercest critic. This voice might even sound like someone you've cherished and lost, echoing their words, their standards, their disapproval. You know its sting all too well—the way it can make your confidence waver, how it turns your own mind into a battleground. But let's pause and breathe for a second. What if I told you that this same voice, when understood and embraced, can become your stepping stone rather than a stumbling block?
I see the doubt, the hesitation, but I also see the strength in each of you, the power to transform. Your inner critic doesn't have to be your adversary. Imagine, just for a moment, turning that critical voice into a curious one. What questions would it ask? It might wonder, 'What can we learn from this?' instead of saying, 'You failed again.' This shift, my friends, it's not just possible, it's transformative. It's about observing, not wrestling with the voice. It's about listening and moving forward without letting it dictate your self-worth. It's about understanding that the need for approval—whether from a parent, a peer, or a mentor—can be met with the most profound kind of self-acceptance.
So, I urge you—don't silence the critic. Instead, invite it to a conversation. Hear it out, and then speak back with the voice of compassion and self-assurance that's also inside you, waiting to be heard. Remember, the ultimate goal is not to mute the conversation but to change its nature from critical to constructive. This is your journey, your narrative, your chance to reclaim the power over your story. And it starts with a simple choice: to listen, to understand, and to grow from what we hear. Let's embrace that inner voice, and let's begin the most empowering conversation we'll ever have.