Why Your Inner Critic Wants You to WAIT

Earlier this fall, I attended a five-day writing retreat at Ghost Ranch outside Santa Fe, New Mexico.  Over the course of this serendipitous week, I experienced all the things one would hope to get out of a retreat – beauty, a deepening relationship to the self, a sense of community, and insight. 

But before it all began, I must admit that I arrived having no idea what I was getting into. 

I had no idea that this retreat was focused on loss and transformation (a theme painfully relevant for me then and now).

I had no idea that we would be invited to dive really deep, really fast (something I’m typically resistant to).

I had no idea this is exactly what I needed.

*  *  *  *  *

I needed the beauty of the New Mexico high desert.  The stark landscape surrounding Ghost Ranch has been captured by many artists, most notably Georgia O’Keeffe.  As I sat surrounded by clear, deep blue skies and warm, layered cliff walls, I processed my experiences in writing, reflection, and conversation. 

I needed this group of writers and seekers to accompany me on this inner journey.  Within the circle of these generous and kind-hearted souls, we shared our stories and learned that while our experiences may differ, the lessons we gain are universal. 

Wisdom is wisdom, and it applies to every aspect of the human condition, whether we’re talking about teaching, writing, or just living fully in this world.

The piece of wisdom that still feels highly resonant for me came early in the retreat. Our teacher Mirabai invited us to let go of any self-consciousness about writing, as well as any sense of unworthiness about whether our voices matter. 

She urged us to let go of our fear and insecurity, and assured each participant that “…your voice is urgently needed in the world.”

This message spoke directly to a fear-fueled refrain I often hear in my mind:

“Who am I to… [fill in the blank]?”

I don’t know exactly when my voice of inner criticism and self-doubt began to question me in this way.  I do, however, remember the first time I heard it and intentionally chose to defy it. 

*  *  *  *  *

In the fall of 2013, I decided to submit my high school library program for the highest recognition for school libraries in the U.S.  This recognition, awarded by the American Association of School Libraries, is the National School Library Program of the Year. 

The application process is rigorous and the work involved was daunting.  But neither of these circumstances was my biggest obstacle. 

The most challenging thing I needed to overcome was my inner critic.  I heard the voice in my head, the part of me questioning my worth with words like,

“Who am I to apply for this prestigious recognition?”

“Who am I to think my program is worthy?”

“Who am I to think that I can pull this off?”

These questions felt so real and almost stopped me, but as I look back, I realize the one thing that supported me and gave me the strength to move forward was my meditation practice.

*  *  *  *  *

Regularly meditating has benefited me in many ways, and one of the most crucial skills it has developed is the ability to better discern which voices from my inner dialogue represent my highest self and which do not.

These “who am I to” statements came from a place of fear – fear of risk, fear of judgement, fear of getting hurt or embarrassed or shamed.

This voice of my inner critic is trying to keep me safe.  I understand that. 

But by trying to keep me safe, it keeps me small.  It keeps me from growing and evolving and becoming the most realized version of myself. 

I recently realized that he first letters of the phrase “Who am I to” represent the message of the phrase itself very clearly:  W.A.I.T.

My inner critic/fear/insecurity is telling me to wait.  

Wait until you’ve got it figured out. 

Wait until you have permission. 

Wait until it’s safe.

If I listened to this part of me, I would be waiting indefinitely.

*  *  *  *  *

I didn’t wait to enroll in the writing retreat until I felt more like a “real writer.”  Attending that retreat nourished me in ways I’m still realizing and has shifted my relationship to writing for good.

I didn’t wait to apply for the National School Library Program of the Year award until we were “more ready.”  We applied, put in the time and the effort to work through the entire process, and we ultimately won. 

And now I won’t wait to do what it takes to expand the reach of Teaching Balance to support even more educators.  In spite of how stomach-churningly scary it is, I am positioning myself to be even more visible and to offer more ways for teachers to use meditation as a foundation for their own self-care.

*  *  *  *  *

This is a snapshot of where I am at the moment on my continuing path toward even greater happiness, peace, and purpose.  Every experience I have teaches me something valuable, and I love to share with you what I learn as part of my journey.

As you read this, I invite you to reflect on the situations your inner critic is urging you to “wait” on.  Then consider whether it would be in your best interest to stretch outside what feels comfortable and safe.  Instead of waiting and watching from afar, step in to all that awaits YOU.