As members of the human species, most of us we believe that we’re not enough or we’re flawed somehow, and so do our best to stay numb.

As members of the human species, most of us we believe that we’re not enough or we’re flawed somehow. Plagued by bouts of self-loathing, we feel enough pain over these beliefs to continually shove them away and try to exist in a state of numbness. Our human nature thrives on avoidance, so we do whatever we can to stay away from these feelings because the pain is insane. And our culture provides us with a limitless array of options for distraction from the agony. So we end up relentlessly pursuing mindless activities trying to numb ourselves but in the end, they make us feel even worse.

We watch endless reality TV programming. Reality TV programs that show us people doing things we can’t do, and we feel like they’re better than we are. We binge on Netflix. Our Netflix marathons provide hours of distraction, and then we feel guilty about how much time we spent watching. We escape into romance novels and murder mysteries. Our romance novels and murder mysteries transport us to other worlds, and we feel lousy about needing to escape to another world. Same goes for all the fantasy video games and apps we’re addicted to that are taking up tons of GB space on our devices. We gobble up self-help books. Self-help books that show us how we could be but aren’t, and we feel more flawed than we did before reading them. We follow so-called ‘influencers’ on Instagram and other social media to see what they’re up to and get depressed that we can’t keep up with their photoshopped lifestyles. We surf celebrity lifestyle sites that only reinforce living lives we can only dream about and that makes us feel small and insignificant. Or they show us just how much more we could have and can’t afford, and we feel impoverished and hopeless. We trawl for social media attention. But when we don’t get enough likes on our social media channels, we feel unworthy. We spend significant blocks of our time blogging. And when we don’t get enough comments on our blogs we feel neglected or invisible. We turn into obsessive dieters or gym rats. Then we see other people with bodies thinner or more fit and toned than ours, and we feel overweight, unattractive, and seriously out of shape.

Without even being aware of it, we define ourselves by this external shit we spend all our waking hours immersed in. Consistently coming up short and invariably reinforcing the concept that we’re obviously inadequate or damaged. And decidedly lacking, we’re convinced that our self-loathing is justified. We aren’t good enough, we aren’t thin enough, we aren’t fast enough, we aren’t popular enough, we aren’t attractive enough, we aren’t smart enough, we aren’t liked enough, we aren’t educated enough, we aren’t strong enough, we aren’t rich enough. Not having enough. Not being enough. Having more whatever so we can be more whatever, and then we might have enough to be enough. Really?

This feedback loop strips away our innate confidence in ourselves and our certainty that we’re totally worthy of love, prosperity, joy, and contentment. We’re taught that our mind is the greatest source of intelligence and truth, so we automatically believe the voice in our head that’s always spewing criticism, judgement, censure, blame, and negativity. This toxic voice is big and very loud in our minds, and its mantra is all that is wrong and bad about us. So naturally we buy into it as we’ve been taught to do without having a clue about what a ruthless bullshit artist the big loud voice is. And our continuous consumption of all the external shit we’re numbing ourselves with provides it with plenty of material, so it never pauses to draw breath. Sometimes we try to mentally block it out when what it’s shouting becomes unbearably hurtful. Other times we try to physically knock it out with drinks or drugs when whatever it’s saying becomes intolerably painful. But those methods are only temporary beauty that leave us feeling like idiots for trying to eradicate what is, in effect, an integral part of us that we wanna just snap our fingers and Shazaam away.

What’s even more fuckdup is that there’s another voice that’s also an integral part of us, and that’s the voice of our heart. This voice speaks very softly and most of us don’t even know it’s there, much less ever hear it. And the sick thing about not being aware of this voice is that it only ever speaks the truth. It’s strong, it’s supportive, it’s encouraging, and it’s confident. It’s the voice of love and it’s the absolute antithesis of the Mad Hatter talking trash in our heads. Problem is, we’ve gotta be still and silent to hear it. Being still and silent means catching a glimpse of what’s inside ourselves and that scares the living shit out of us. We’re all sooo sure that what we see in there will be hideous, that we can’t even bring ourselves to try it.

So here’s the thing – gotta calm down and go for it. Gotta turn off the TV, put down the Roku remote, ditch the magazines, stop websurfing, and power down the iShit. Seriously. Just five minutes. Or three minutes. Or maybe just one minute the first time. It’s like a game – how many minutes can I go without moving or talking? It’s waaay easier to do outside in nature because there’s stuff to look at that automatically lowers the volume of the big loud voice. A sunrise or sunset, or trees, or clouds, or mountains, or grass, or water, or sky, or birds. Tons of options out in nature and any of them will work. I tried it. It was hard at first and it took me a while, but it totally worked. I heard the soft voice of my heart for the first time. It flipped me out. And it changed my life forever. I’m not saying that you can never again do that other stuff, but if you want to stop the self-loathing, you’ve gotta learn how to be still and silent so that you can hear the soft voice of your heart that never lies and guides you, whispering support and encouragement and love.