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My Oddly British Male Mental Narrator

More often than not we are directly responsible for sabotaging our dreams, our goals, our potential and our happiness. Whether or not in comes in the form of self deprecating thoughts or from the voices within our mental daily narrative it still occurs. You know the narrative that I speak of - the one we hear containing the dialogue of potential outcomes and the fears of what others will think. My personal mental narrator is always British, an oddly most often male. I may be slightly obsessed with Europe. Perhaps this is why I chose the Classical world and Early Europe for my historical concentration areas. However, I digress. We grow up in a society telling us to listen to those closest to us. So, naturally, we listen to ourselves. After all who is closer to us than we are ourselves? The problem that arises is when in the stillest moments of our days - our hot baths, while driving, or when trying to sleep in the evenings we allow our narrators to overpower the silence.

There is a fine line between listening to our conscience, our gut, or our instinct and listening to the negativity, to the self doubt, to the fears. There is a certain level of comfort in stagnancy because it is what we know, no matter if we are happy with it or not, the fact remains that it is the known. Penelope, Odysseus’ wife, chose to stay “widowed” not because she wasn’t lonely or simply because she had political awareness concerning her position. She chose to listen to her personal narration. She chose hope. She chose wisdom. She quietened her mental narrator (and the outside ones) in an effort to pace her own outcome. In this story her faith and intellect served her well and Odysseus returned to Ithaca post Trojan War and post Odyssey. But just think about all of the historical figures out there who got in their own way - whose successes could have come earlier or more significant. Think of those ordinary folk, just like you and me, who are too afraid to take the first step.

I couldn’t sleep tonight because my narrator was reminding me of all the things I needed to do - things I need to go through here at the house, lesson planning for the upcoming school year, writing in my novel, starting the new play I want to write - he was telling me everything except for the fact that I also need rest. That it is okay to relax; however, I must not become complacent in it. I deserve to finish that novel or to start that play. That don’t have to become best sellers. The point is that I choose to use my creative liberties and combine them with things that I am passionate about. I write for me. It doesn’t matter that some will dislike my work, because others will like it. Hell, others may even love it.

Be more than your personal narration.

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