Inner Judge

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Writing is my hobby. I like it. But sometimes it’s easy to forget that writers are artists, in a way. And artistic work is something that is triggered by inspiration, and it has to flow in a natural way. You can’t force it. As you can’t force a painter to paint. With writing it’s similar – if I don’t feel relaxed and inspired, I can’t write.

When I have a writer’s block I sometimes open my favourite writing app called OmmWriter and start writing whatever comes to my mind. OmmWriter expands to the whole screen and silences other pages, apps and sounds. So no incoming emails, no notifications. The only thing you have is a white screen with a nice background image if you prefer, and a soft music. I love it!

So I start writing, and the only objective is to write something. It’s called automatic writing. The trick of automatic writing is to write the first thing that comes to your mind. The most important thing in this process is not to judge anything you write. You don’t get back to it and you don’t correct it. It’s a flow of words that has to take its course on its own. As our minds are quite disperse and act like a crazy monkey jumping from one thing to another, that’s how the outcome looks like. But never mind! You don’t judge, remember?

How often we limit ourselves because of this inner judge we have. This voice that filters what can be said out loud and what better not. The voice that constantly corrects you, tells you what is good and bad, how you should act. No wonder we sometimes feel blocked, repressed, put on mute. We feel like shouting: “Shut the f… up!”

That’s how I realised that we prefer to talk to people who don’t judge us. When you feel that you can say anything about yourself and the other person listens with understanding and with no judgments … wow, this is huge. We often judge without knowing. Whenever we evaluate something or we patronise and say what the other person should do, we’re judging. And as it’s so natural, we don’t realise we’re doing it.

We don’t like when people tell us what to do. First, because we long for freedom and need to make our own decisions and lead our own lives. Second, because we already have someone constantly telling us what to do – our minds!

If you start paying attention to how much you judge yourself during a day, you’ll be amazed. The inner voice never stops. Often it’s not very productive – it keeps repeating itself over and over, and often it’s negative – “I’m stupid… why am I so lazy… why have I forgotten… I should be more… I regret having done …”.

Simply putting consciousness on the voices in your head is the first and most important step. Realise how much you judge yourself and how much you limit yourself with that. And every now and then decide not to take these voices too seriously. It’s just a chatter, a monkey jumping from one thing to another… it’s not too important after all.

I’ll finish this post by sharing with you a piece of my automatic writing. Remember – the first word that comes to your head you write down. No judgement, no correction. Just something that flooooows… It can be quite therapeutic in fact. Try it out!

Light. Trees. Green. Everything and everywhere. A chess horse, white and beautiful, still and strong. Wise. A forrest so deep, so vivid, so alive. Still, wet, water drops. Balloons, blue and pink, sweet, childish. Candy. Grey… light grey, like fur, like wise trees, a cat, wood. The smell of wood, the warmth of the cabin. Home. Stillness. Beauty. Fireplace. Soft touches of the blanket. Tea. Lemon. Steam. Water. Everything and nothing. Everywhere. Nowhere. Vulnerable. Evaluation. Eyes. Thoughts. Head. Headache. Skin, the smell of the skin, the touch, the colour. Everything. Full and empty. Distraction. Never ending, a chain, a circle, dynamic, blind. Fast and slow at the same time. Fast outside, slow inside. Energy in the body. Heart. Dancing, no plan, no shape, no purpose. Road. Noise. Industrial smell. External, suffering, boredom, no sense, no purpose, fast, quick, empty, dark grey, dirty. Different, at the same time a part of it. Imagination, reality. Balance. Breathing. Bondad. Bingo. My neck, energy in the head. Yellow. Movement. Typing, hands, fingers, doubts, knowledge, no idea. Distraction. Curious, nice, drawing, authentic, want it as well.

How powerful, how gentle, how real it is everything. Can’t grasp and that’s the beauty of it. When you think about it it vanishes, it’s like a beautiful and rare animal you can only observe. If you touch it, take a picture of it, if you do anything else than observe it, it’s gone. How? No one knows. Is it going to come back? Maybe. When? You cannot know. You lost it because you were needy, because you wanted more. You wanted to posses it. Instead of being it be, instead of respecting its freedom, instead of just enjoying the sight of it and admire its beauty, feel the love…. you made it go with your mind. With your questions of how and when and what and why. It can’t live in the presence of this neediness. As it’s not about you and your ego, your mind. It’s about it. Don’t ask questions, don’t think, enjoy. Be present. Why do you draw with only one tool and only the same things? Draw with whatever that can be used, whatever makes you feel it could serve. Draw in colours. and draw whatever. Don’t think it. Don’t change it. It’s perfect. Who are you to judge it? You are too small to judge anything or anyone. You are way too limited. Your ego is too big, forcing its way into anything. Your essence is a million times bigger, and it’s being held under the lid. You are afraid to open and see. Afraid it could be too big for you to handle, to beautiful to believe. Too powerful. It would change your little you, and your little you likes being little you. The world of little you is small and complicated, reigned by the laws of force, order, and the opinions of others. You live in a house of a dwarf and you can barely move yourself. In a world of giants, open, vast, empty and full, beautiful, white, eternal, still, loving, powerful, energy. Too simple to understand, too beautiful to grasp, to powerful to enter inside and let everything else go.

The doors of your prison opens, but you prefer to stay inside. You know it, you adjusted to it. It’s painful, nasty, sad, empty, it smells. But it’s authentic, it’s about you. It’s comfortable. The doors are open. The light shines in. How beautiful, how powerful. You can feel it, smell it, it enters into your heart. It gives you a rush of energy and love. You stay where you are. Because it’s you, you think. You don’t want to lose what you are right now. The prison is you, the walls is you, the cold floor, the boredom, the problems, the smell, the voices, you like them, because they’re familiar. You complain, every day and night. You hate yourself for being little you. But you are attached to it, it’s what you know. You are this, you think. What is this vast, white, beautiful presence out there behind the door? It’s your real YOU. There is a small piece inside you, a small lost piece, that knows it. But it’s surrounded by many many other pieces that ignore it. Their role is to keep control, to keep you safe. So you stay. Slowly killed by your own doubts, by your mind, by your little you. Fear. Fear and not love. This is what you choose. Rotten in your own flesh, lost in your own mind, afraid of your own emotions. This is your little world, in your little cabin in the forrest. Your little prison, so known and so hated, but so known. The door to your real self is open. Always and forever.