My inner critic has always been a very insidious character whom I am so aware of, yet so blind to her too. She is the shadow between the trees, the dark smoke in the corners. She has no form and is able to travel and hide in all corners and all places. She is as present as the air that I breathe….. however toxic.
Insidious, dark, lurking.
It lingers like mist on the cold frosty winter ground. This eerie quality….and yet there is something so alluring about the lingering mist which gives such a full feeling of anticipation and suspense.
Would the air be the same without it? Doesn’t that fog give dimension and texture to the landscape? Is there perhaps a love-hate relationship with the smoke of my inner critic?
Should I blow it all away…. would I feel lonely without her……
There is depth and dimension to the diversity that she brings.
I hate to admit how comfortable and safe I feel with her shadows, how they give me company, lurking behind the trees.
I am walking alone but I still know she is there… rather the devil you know than the devil you don’t they all say. She is my enemy, but she is also a trusted friend and companion.
She may wish my demise, but is that not only out of love and jealousy…. for her own companionship? Do we not want the same things? To not be alone….