“Dear Rob: I have eight distinctly different voices in my head. There’s a hurt, oddly puffed-up voice that complains about everyone who has ever done me wrong. There’s an hysterical voice that nags me with the thought that nothing I could ever do or say will make any difference to anyone, so why bother. Then there’s the still, small voice. It has more gravity and feels more honest. It gives me useful instructions about specific things I could do to live a more meaningful life. The only trouble is, the other voices always blabber so loud I tend to neglect the only one that’s actually helpful. Any advice? – Drowned Out.” Dear Drowned: Set aside five minutes each morning and five minutes before bed. Whisper “Shut up, all the rest of you!”, and then listen reverently to the still, small voice.
I’m not even sure there is a still, small voice inside me anymore.
I believe there is. She is tattooed on your back and she is the one saying it is okay to follow your heart, even when it is scary.
The small, still voice answers student questions, frankly and honestly. The small, still voice looks for ways to improve – personally and in general. The small, still voice may not ask for advice, but does discuss things in a way that is not hard to advise.
Your small, still voice may not be actively speaking to you. But every time you think “What traps of my upbringing or general past do I need to watch out for?”, that’s the small voice of reason talking to you.
Don’t just listen to it carefully. Mentally arm it with a clue-by-four, and send it town against the other voices.
(I know, I know, “Pot. Kettle. Black.”)
Ah, but grasshopper, you have the smallest of voices growing within you, full of nothing but honesty and giving life more meaning than you can imagine. Sit quietly, lay your hands over the place where that small voice lies curled, and settle into the miraculous stillness.
every
single
time
i
have
ever
listened
to
my still, small voice
the
bastard-son-of-a-bitch
gets
my
ass
into
trouble.
the fucker.
i hate him.