Letter: On the Voice in Your Head

Friend,

I have been thinking about the voice in your head.

Not the kind one — the one that, occasionally, says something gentle. I mean the other one. The one that ran the running commentary while you got ready this morning, while you walked to the kitchen, while you read the first email. The one that has, by now, generated several thousand sentences on this Sunday alone, most of which you did not consciously choose.

I have been thinking about how strange it is that we have come to assume this voice is us. We rarely question it. We let it narrate the day, judge our performance, predict the future, replay the past. We treat its commentary as the soundtrack of our lives.

I have been thinking, lately, that it is not us. Or, at least, not all of us. It is one part of us — a busy, anxious, sometimes useful part — that has been given an enormous amount of authority because it speaks first and often.

The smaller, quieter part of you — the one that notices the voice — is also you. That part does not narrate. It does not judge. It just sees.

That part is the one we sit down to find, in the practice. The voice does not stop in the practice. It carries on. But you, briefly, are sitting outside the voice, watching it the way you might watch weather.

This is one of the small gifts of any meditation practice that lasts a few months. You start, in life as well as in the practice, to notice that the voice in your head is speaking, rather than just being you.

A small distance opens. Not all the time. Often enough.

In that distance, you can begin to choose how much of the voice you take seriously. The catastrophic worry at midnight: noticed, not believed. The harsh self-talk: noticed, not believed. The small accusation about how you handled a meeting: noticed, not believed.

Not because the voice has no information. Sometimes it does. But the voice does not get the final word anymore. You do.

This week, try this once: when you notice the voice mid-sentence, say silently to yourself, that is the voice talking. Just that. Don't fight it. Don't try to make it stop. Just label it.

You will be surprised how often it goes quiet for a moment when you do.

Sit well this week.

— nomind

One quote:

Do not believe everything you think.

— common bumper sticker, also good Buddhism.

One practice:

Once today, when you notice the voice in your head being unkind to you, place a hand on your chest and say silently: I see you. I am not going to fight you. I am also not going to do what you say today. Then continue with your morning.