Last night, I started reading “The Power Of Now” by Eckhart Tolle. It’s sat on our bookshelf for years (my husband brought it into the family from his “pre me” life) and I’ve heard it mentioned here and there. There are plenty of books that occupy space on our shelves that I’ve naively picked up only to be swept away with. I can happily say that only being twenty-five pages in, I am swept. His writing is inviting and lacks any form of intimidation. His open-mindedness creates a beautiful picture of life as it should be, full of love and peace. I haven’t gotten far, but I’ve already come away with one sensational piece of advice. As I have read numerous times from other authors, he suggests listening to your inner voice. But he speaks of it differently. And his way was the highway for me!
That voice you hear in your head isn’t actually you. If you’ll take a moment and listen to the dialog, there’s normally quite a bit of judgement going on. We normally identify with it because it’s what we’ve heard in the media, from parents, or were taught in school. And once we identify with it, we swallow it. So far, this was nothing new to me. But then he offered a helpful practice. Whenever you hear this voice (your ego), step back and listen to it. Try and see where it’s coming from. And you will find a moment of complete and peaceful silence when you do this. The voice will start again, and again, turn around a face the speaker. Apparently, the ego is rather shy when it someone notices it. The more often you are present and can notice the voice, the longer you have these spells of serene inner solitude .
Of course, my first question was, “How am I supposed to function in life if I’m not supposed to think?!?” And Mr. Tolle read my mind by answering this very question. He said that our ego is of very little assistance in daily life. The voice hinders, tears down, creates doubt with prolonged noise. Without this clutter, clean, healthy thoughts and acknowledgements can come to the surface.
So, I tried it. I found about twenty moments that I was present enough to hear that voice and I turned around to look at the speaker. And it became eerily quiet. Every single time. And the best part was that the accompanying emotion disappeared as well. The frustration when both girls were tearing at my shirt and sobbing about who knows what? Gone like a whisper. The peeved adrenaline that went along with hauling my daughter, who refused to walk, all the way home uphill? Poof, into thin air. It actually became rather strange. But what a relief! That voice gives my soul a headache on these rough days. It really doesn’t lend a hand in any way, and I’m happy to be relieved of its constant chatter.
This being only two chapters in, I am anticipating more lightness and joy to come. And so continues the quest for fierce happiness!
I leave you with a moment of pure joy from my day: