The Parasite

Folks in the midwest. We are in it. The holiday fun has passed, and we are in that dark, gray, freezing cold part of winter that makes many of us feel – BLEH.

Some of us are handling it better than others. I am not some of us, haha. And I know that I am not handling it well. And I also know that my wellness is my responsibility. I feel more sensitive than usual. I feel more insecure than usual. I feel more down that usual. I feel less hopeful than usual.

And I’m going to be fine. And everything is ok. But I’m naming that here so that if other people are feeling the same way, you know you are not alone, and we are going to get through this.

I’m also leaning on my understanding of The Cognitive Triangle which you dig into more deeply in Legacy of Learning. But it goes something like this: thoughts lead to feelings and feelings lead to behaviors. So, if we can change our thoughts, we can influence our feelings, and ultimately shift our behavior. I’ve included a graphic from the book below.

In his book, Better Days, Neil Allen describes what he playfully calls our parasite or superego. You know, that voice that tells you things are not enough, not good enough, and therefore you are not enough and not good enough so why bother trying? He explains how essential it is that we view that voice as separate from ourselves, so we can become critical consumers of the messages we receive. One strategy for doing so is to give your superego a name. I was talking to my friends Kelly Croy and Joe Miller the other day on The Wired Educator podcast, and I asked them what they would name their superegos. Kelly playfully remarked that he didn’t know but it would be a bad name, haha. I love that! Anne Lamott calls her parasite, “The Governess.”

Many of us are searching for a life that is free. Freedom from this parasite. I love what Anne Lamott says in the forward to Better Days, “You are free to go take a walk despite the voice insisting you should read over your proposal one more time. You are free to wander and ponder the beauty of this earth, your neighbors, the clouds, instead of the numbers on your bathroom scale, your checking account, or the latest polls. You are free to notice that you can live your life from a place of satisfaction and gratitude, rather than anxiety and bean-counting and restriction. You are free to love the world as it is, free from obsessing about what is so wrong with everything and how you probably caused it but, in any case, definitely need to fix it; free to live this one precious life from a place of awareness and trust. You are free to be your own kind of saint, meeting people with love and curiosity rather than pity or fear.”

Wherever you are today, I hope this sentiment finds you.

And I hope that you are free.