Among my many inner selves, I am home to a little dominatrix she-devil with a small, sharp whip. Lets call her the Blame-inatrix. She’s often surprisingly subtle, sometimes coming out as a feeling I manage to contain, or in comments or gestures most people don’t detect. Other times, though, I don’t even see Blamey until she’s cracked the whip right across a loved one’s psychic skin, making everyone feel uck. <\/p>\n
It’s some seriously toxic stuff, blame. And even if my victim isn’t noticing consciously, these digs and micro-blames have a negative cumulative effect on my relationships with others and myself, being in such stark opposition to my aims to be a kind, productive, contributing, loving human. <\/p>\n
So lately I do my best to simply notice when I have the urge to say something motivated by the mean whip woman. Then I ask: “Hey lady, what’s that about?” 900 times of out 10 I’ve empowered her with some anger and then beneath that, inevitably, insecurity, vulnerability, and hurt. I’ve been thinking about this lately a lot and was once again soothed and blown away by Pema Chodron, when I came across this quote from her today, which says all of this so succinctly and perfectly: <\/p>\n