Silencing your little voice(s)

Last week, in an exchange with a newly met friend on Facebook, I let slip that I had not explored writing before because of a small little voice in my head that always asked me: "Who do you think will read your stuff?". It got me every time. This little voice always waited for me to have a new and exciting idea before it reared its ugly head. Like the one time I wanted to take up running a couple of years ago, it simply asked me if I knew anybody in my family who ran. I was stumped. Got me again. I could never win  against this ugly little voice. I know what you are thinking, why didn't you just ignore it, I ignore mine all the time. Or as some people would say, I don't have strange voices in my head telling me what to do or what not to do. You do, but you may be part of the blessed section of the population that has a positive little voice, one that tells you nothing is impossible, that you are always in charge and you are the captain of your own fate.

Let me start with a disclaimer before going any further, I am not a psychologist or trained as such. What I'm going to share here is based on my own life experiences, what scientists would refer to as anecdotal evidence. The reason I want to share this is because over the past year or so I have come to learn that the little voice I referred to above may actually be so much a part of you that you cannot overcome it without either the help of others or without accepting its presence.

We all  know that as children the adults around us put a lot of things in our heads. Things that should have been preparing us for successful adulthood. Some adults are just plain mean or bitter and put things in those innocent little heads that should be punishable by a jail sentence. Some adults just don't know any better. So they poison the little minds along with their little spirits. Unfortunately, in some cases, our emotional make-up is such that we internalize the negative to such an extent that the little voice in your head only makes sense when it's talking negative.Also, in certain cases, such as mine, the little voice is able to take a negative comment or experience and magnifies it such that it overshadows everything else. This little voice can grow so big it can form a couple of other little voices like itself. A committee if you like (Martha Beck's invention not mine).  Before you know it you cannot do anything new without consulting it even though you know the answer will be negative. And it grows more powerful still, it reinforces every answer it gives you with evidence. Real-life evidence. So you want to take up running, it says. Remember you were always last in your school runs? The humiliation you felt inside, the laughing classmates, really? Do you want to go through that again? Nine times out of ten you'll back down. Or at least I did.

That little voice can actually be the most cruel voice you know. It's one thing to be dissuaded from doing something new by evidence from your past but it's quite another for that little voice to agree with all the negative people you've ever met. Those mean relatives who told you it's ok that you can't do something because you are not the same as everybody, the teacher who asked you why you think you could ever be a pilot, that boss who asked why you are  interested in career planning, do you want my job one day? The little voice that says each one of those people were right, I mean look at you, you can never do anything right. That's just plain cruel.

Perhaps the cruelest thing it  can say to you is every success you have achieved could be achieved by just about anyone, so yes, forget it, you're not special. You got an A+ in that test, it was a fluke. You're in the top ten of your class at school, wait till your final exams they'll sort you out! Oh you passed, with a distinction? Varsity will show you. And sure enough in your first term of varsity you fail that crucial test, disaster! That little voice was right after all. What was I thinking? What made me think that I could defy 'my' little voice, it's been right all along.

I read or heard somewhere that 'my' little voice is referred to as my "generalized other" in psychology, an audience that you have that you are always aiming to please, or failing to please. The thing is, this generalized other is part of you, part of your make-up as a person and until you learn to answer back when it talks you are in for a very sad ride this side of heaven.

I'm learning to deal with my little committee of voices one day at a time. One warm day in January last year I laced up my  three-year old running shoes, which still looked new  because they'd been underused. My little voice said are you really going to do this? I said yes but only in the evening when nobody's watching. I ran and after about 500metres I stopped, my chest was burning, those five or six strangers that I ran past were  looking or watching I thought, I continued walking and started running again after a short rest. More burning in the chest. The little voice said I told you so, I deliberately ignored it and continued. That evening I did about five kilometers. The following day every muscle that could hurt in my body did hurt and the little committee of voices seemed to be celebrating in my head.I ignored them and  followed that run with another run two days later. I subscribed to a running magazine and started referring to myself as a runner, at least in my head.I bought Tim Noakes' Lore of running.  My little voice was cowed, for probably the first time in my life I could send it running for cover. Three months later I did my first 10k race and I haven't looked back.

The trick that I've discovered is I need to actively talk back to it. To do that I need to to be aware of it. This little voice is so crafty it can talk to you in whispers, especially if it thinks it's found its own little corner in your being. So I'm finding I have to consciously work at replacing it. Yes, it's possible. Otherwise I would not be telling you about the eight half marathons and a full marathon that I've completed since talking back to that cruel little voice  in January 2012. And when it said my first 10k race was a fluke, I was driven to do more, to run further. Instead of wanting to go back to my childhood and confronting all those adults and my former bosses, I get back at them by talking back to this little voice. I enjoy taunting it, ok maybe that's a little bit more information that you need right there but yes it's possible to overcome it. I'm still a work in progress. There are still numerous little members of that committee of voices that I need to confront.

Like the ones that keep telling  me that celebrating my birthday is perhaps just a little too inwardly focused. Those little voices made it impossible to enjoy simple things like birthday gifts or even compliments. If like me, you feel every compliment you receive is undeserved, and people  are being insincere when they compliment you then perhaps it's time you started talking back to your own little voice. Tell it, like I do, that you are  special because God says you are. I

It's a journey that I've started and know I must see to the end. I have no idea what the end looks like but I know the only voice in my head will be that of God telling me I did well in replacing that committee of voices with his. I end this with a Facebook status update that I made earlier this month. This status update represented me silencing yet another member of that little committee of voices , the one that kept me from writing, the one that asked me: "who do you think will read your stuff?": Thank you so much for reading this far, you just helped me put that little devil to flight!

That Facebook status update:

I got back on the road last week after a long break of running. Damn, I missed the feeling. Yesterday, I started thinking about why I run in the first place.When I run, I get to know that I am more than the world has led me to believe. More than anybody can declare me to be. See, there's a person that God intended for each one of us  to be. A person not afraid of anything or anyone, rather, one looking to live life, and live it "more abundantly". After six or seven kilometers on  a good run, that person comes out and takes over my being. He's free from fear, he dares the distance to come at him and he knows he can be anything he wants or desires to be. At that time, I know that God lives and I'm praising him through my running. The run, in essence, becomes an exercise in praise. For me, every run still represents a triumph over everything and everyone who ever thought I cannot achieve more than they set out for me. The most amazing thing is that in conquering ever-increasing distance I become bolder, with my body and intellect knowing that I can run further. Whilst the mind knows there is a limit to how much more I can cover in terms of distance, my being, that's the inner me, the real me enters a realm where anything becomes possible. That is the realm of  possibility not based on what anyone else  thinks or wishes, rather based on what I've achieved in a field I never even thought possible. From zero to 42,2km in fourteen months. My Redeemer lives.

(Phew! I can write, and a few kind people read my stuff. What more do you have to say for yourself? Never mind this, it's just me talking back to that little voice)

The Power To Change lives

“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness, that most frightens us. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine as children do. It's not just in some of us; it is in everyone. And as we let our own lights shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.” There are times when I think Nelson Mandela had me in mind when he uttered those words. No, it's not because I think he knows me personally, I wish he did, it's because like most people alive in the world today, it has always been a struggle for me to accept that I matter, that my contribution matters, that my opinions matter. As Nelson Mandela turns 95 today, I've taken some time to reflect on this particular quote which I first came across fifteen years ago on a laboratory desk of a colleague.

The United Nations has seen fit to declare the icon's birthday an International Mandela day, and we are urged to contribute a minimum of 67 minutes to making a difference in someone else's life. I'm ashamed to say when this initiative started a number of years ago, I was one of those people who asked the question, so you give 67 minutes of your time and then what? My world was only in black and white then. Either you did something that made a permanent difference in someone else's life or you did nothing. My logic was, you make soup for a couple of people less fortunate than yourself on Nelson Mandela day and who makes them the soup the following day when you've gone back to your more fortunate life.  It never occurred to me then that someone else could choose to make a lasting difference on that day. I looked at how inadequate my contribution would be, forgetting the light that's been placed inside of me, that on this day I can choose to reach into that power that's beyond measure inside of me.

The year has 365 days, and on any given day someone somewhere in the world wakes up asking themselves the question: where will my next meal come from today? By choosing to offer a meal to someone less fortunate than yourself today, you've answered that question for that person and perhaps given them hope that someone else will provide for them on the other 364 days of the year. In other words, you've given more than a meal, you've given them hope. You've let that special light that's on the inside of you shine, and as you did  that, you  gave another person reason to let their own light shine.

Nelson Mandela represents so many different things to different people. So many times in his life he could have chosen to let fear hold him back, he could have chosen to play small and not let his light shine on the world. But he chose to liberate himself from that fear and as a result liberate the rest of us from our own fears. It's in our small little actions, done when nobody is looking that we can change the course of an entire life. I know of people who have chosen to give blood today, something they've never done before. That's the sort of power that Nelson Mandela refers to in the opening quote , that we are powerful beyond measure.

No one understands the power that lies within each one of us better than Malala Yousafzai, the Pakistani girl  who was shot on the left side of her forehead by the Taliban in October 2012(for daring to advocate for education for all girls). Without getting into the politics of it all, if such a little girl can stand on a platform as huge as the United Nations and tell the world that she is not afraid of the guns that shot her, that all she wants are educational  opportunities to be afforded to every little girl in the world, no matter where they are because she has come to learn that the pen is mightier, that when you have to use violence to promote or protect your way of thinking then you are the coward, then you and I can do much better. See a transcript of her speech on this link: https://secure.aworldatschool.org/page/content/the-text-of-malala-yousafzais-speech-at-the-united-nations/

In the speech, she has acknowledged Nelson Mandela and Gandhi amongst others as leaders who have left her a legacy of compassion and nonviolence. More than anything though, Malala has learned that own fears stand in the way of allowing her to shine and thus liberating others. She has said she wants the same educational opportunities she's now receiving in the UK to be afforded to the sons and daughters of the people who shot her.

My greatest wish is that one of those children, the ones whose fathers are carrying out these atrocities will hear of Malala's courage and then know that they too are as powerful as she is and take a decision to live in the belief that they are powerful enough to change the world, one person at a time.

You and I may not have the platform of the United Nations like Malala, but we have an opportunity starting this Nelson Mandela Day to touch a life less fortunate than ours and perhaps inspire hope and allow that person to tap into their own power.


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LET IT SLIDE

LET IT SLIDE....

There are few things in South Africa as emotive as the subject of racism. It's one of those topics that you want to be very careful about where and how you bring it up because it has the potential to degenerate into those below the belt exchanges, with insults traded freely. That said, I believe the only way forward for our country is to talk these sort of issues out in a very mature way, playing the ball at all times, and not the man(or woman).

A couple of weeks ago I went to a jewelry shop to have an old watch seen to, it had what they call a lifetime guarantee, silly if you believe that lifetime stuff like I did. I got to the door of this shop in a bustling mall and was confronted by a locked security gate, with the glass doors open. I waited by the gate to be noticed until a middle aged black lady shouted from behind the counter, "how can we help you, our gate doesn't open?" Stunned, I tried best as I could to explain the reason I was there without attracting the attention of fellow shoppers who were going past behind me. It was difficult to do this without appearing to shout. She said something about "lifetime no longer applies, you'll have to try next door" but made no effort to come closer to the security gate or opening it. I was getting indignant by then and on realizing this she simply moved out of view. It's very difficult to stay mad at an empty shop so I went on my way.

It was in talking to the shop assistant in the next jewelry shop that I discovered that this particular shop had been hit by robbers several times this year already. I happened to fit the 'profile' of the robbers: African/black, male, young(ok, I'm not so young anymore), and neatly dressed( I try, sometimes). So the staff had been instructed not to open for those that meet the profile. Would you call that profiling racist? At first look it is, and I was suitably indignant and would have blown my fuse had I not chosen to put myself in their shoes. Looking at things from their perspective, and having been a victim of violent robberies before, I realized that given a chance I would have implemented a similar policy myself, until I could come up with a better one. South Africa's demographics mean that the profile of its criminals will remain largely black and male, until the conditions that necessitate that change.


The second example is one I'm sure some of you have encountered. My wife and I  arrived our medical specialist, who for the purposes of this piece I'll label as white, we were flashed one of those elastic smiles by the white secretary behind the desk and we went  about explaining the reason for our  visit. Polite enough. Later on, when we needed assistance with a letter, the secretary explained that the doctor has "put everything in that letter". I politely disagreed and this seemed to anger the poor secretary. She "threatened": "would you like me to call the doctor?", with a look that said "surely you don't want that". I indicated that I would appreciate it if she did that. She left her chair in a huff and came back with the doctor conversing in Afrikaans, which I have nothing against except education wise  I'm post '76 like that, and my Afrikaans is almost nonexistent. I don't mind anybody using any language except if it involves me, but I let that slide. The doctor asked abruptly "What's your problem?". Now, I could have sunk to a level that responds on instincts or maintained a level of politeness that would save us all from an ugly exchange. I responded that there was no problem except for a little change that we required to be made to the letter he had given us. He made the change in two seconds and and handed the letter back. The secretary stayed mad and looked betrayed. See, given where we come from as a country, there are so many points in the conversation that I could have played that "card": Are you being like that because I'm like this? But an second thought, I had already achieved what I wanted tbecause whilst I can't be sure that someone else of a different race would have been treated differently, I knew that what the secretary had wanted to achieve had failed so again I let it slide.

Given our history as a country it's very easy to take offense at the smallest things, screaming racism. I always take solace from the words of Bantu Steve Biko who maintained that a person without power cannot be a racist because, save for attitude, what can they do with their prejudice? Nothing.

The last scenario I'll present is one I'm sure all of you have come across at one point or another. My family certainly has. You are at the till paying for your groceries and are getting nothing but attitude from the cashier. I'm from an era where we consciously went out of our way to give respect to a person based not on what they do but simply because they are, they exist. Add onto that the fact that most menial jobs are done by black people because of our history and demographics, it became doubly important for me not to make people doing those jobs feel more inferior than their job already makes them feel. So, when you get this cashier who goes on like they are doing you a favour, the temptation is there to want to tell them off. Especially given the fact that the attitude you are receiving is not displayed to all customers, but it's black-on-black, for lack of a better description. Again, this can typically descend into one of those distasteful exchanges if you, the recipient of the attitude are not careful.

In all the examples I chose above, the potential was always there for me to play the victim, claiming "I'm treated like this because I'm black", which would most certainly be true in most cases. But my point here is, those are small battles. I say reserve your energy and respect for the bigger larger battles. Battles where people use your skin colour, black or white, to keep you in a subservient role. What I find amazing is that South Africans of all races use social networks to trade insults. Go to any website that allows for comments and at some point , the discussion will degenerate into  an ugly exchange about race, nothing related to the topic at hand. One of the greatest tributes we can pay to the father of our nation, Nelson Mandela, as he lies in hospital is to think before becoming involved in a pointless exchange about race and reserving our energies to "fight against black domination and white domination", a cause he chose to dedicate his life to. If it's not worth it, let it slide.....

Life is a team sport

LIFE IS A TEAM SPORT


"Genuine friends are rare treasures. However, the Lord created us for meaningful relationships; it’s difficult to flourish if we live in isolation. By design, we are made to share life with others, as well as to give and receive love".

Sounds like one of those cheesy Hallmark cards doesn't it? The kind that you find on those cards that make you wonder: "who buys these?". Well, I'm glad to tell you it isn't one of those. The above passage comes from a devotional by Dr Charles Stanley, Senior Pastor of the First Baptist Church in Atlanta. He's in his eighties now so even if you don't really like his sermons, believe them because he has lived them.

He goes on to say: "Surface friendships don’t satisfy this need. But unfortunately, many people never experience anything deeper. This is why so many individuals are lonely--even if they’re always surrounded by others."

We live in a world that values the fleeting friendship, where I can "friend" you just as easily as I can "unfriend". A concept I have found so difficult to come to terms with. I spent many years avoiding social media like Facebook because I felt they encourage those kind of relationships, the fleeting kind. Unfortunately we are surrounded by technological gadgets that improve are lives in so many ways but can also lead to a deep and devastating anti-social kind of life that hampers our development and restricts the joy that we are meant to derive from our walk here on earth.

"Self-sufficiency is prized in the world, but it isn’t God’s design for His children", that man, Dr Stanley again. Let me take you on a bit of a personal journey. Until recently, up until a year and a half ago, I consciously and unconsciously withdrew myself from all forms of friendships. Just to give you a clue, through my walk in life I have not kept in touch with any of the people I met through my school years, primary school, high school and even university. I can hear those of you that know me saying hold on a minute here, we know you have friends, where do they come from? I'll come back to that a little later. Here's my point, I have interacted with a lot of amazing people in my life. Men and women who, when I look back, would have contributed richly to my journey in life. But I have managed to work them all out of my life. It's not an easy thing to do, but it's doable. In medical circles it's called social withdrawal. When I first read that term I had pictures of someone refusing to attend a "social function", like a school reunion or something. But having lived it I know it goes deeper than that.

Without realizing it you "avoid" people you know in situations where you shouldn't. Where people club together because they know each other, you unconsciously choose to associate with "new" people. The associations you form with the new people are not deep, they are fleeting, and you form more of these kinds of friendships as you go along, and by the end of your high school or varsity you realize that you have no compelling reason to get in touch with any of those people, because no lasting bonds were formed. You move into a work situation and form new "friendships". Again, you form fleeting ones. You hang out together having fun activities but that's just it. You know when the going gets tough, there's no one amongst those "friends" you can call on. But life goes on and you appear to be having a normal life. You think to yourself, I'm a self-sufficient man, why do I really need all these people for?

It then extends to family to. You have family around you, parents, brothers, sisters, cousins, the lot. But you don't really have intimate relationships with any of them. You keep a world of your own, one which allows you to make up your own rules, you take offense without letting it show, you keep grudges without appearing bitter. Soon you are convinced there's a conspiracy against you(by people you love), and before you know it, you conclude everyone has it in for you. Family and all. In my case I was convinced my dad had it in for me. Why? I don't know. Your boss too, or even your partner. So inside, you keep wishing you could "escape it all". Either get a job so far away from everyone or live so far away from "them" all. All this whilst appearing to interact normally with each one of them. I didn't succeed in getting the job in Durban or Cape Town, I came pretty close. But I succeeded in keeping everyone at more than an arm's length.


Life being life doesn't really give you the the chance to be successful at being self-sufficient. It throws you the curve balls that it throws at everybody. Only, you don't have the luxury of turning to genuine friends for help and comfort. You cannot turn to family because you think they don't understand you or your world. So you feel so alone in the world, yet you are surrounded by people. Lonely, but not alone. And you hit a brick wall. What you decide to do is anyone's guess.


So, back to why I'm taking you down this depressing road. I'm living with clinical depression. I've lived with it all my life without knowing it. Last year, it was finally diagnosed and I'm on treatment for it. It hasn't cost me only in terms of friendships but a whole lot more, a rich and fulfilling life. The reason I'm telling you this is because I feel if I had known about it much earlier in my life I could have had it treated earlier. So, I have this insatiable need to tell others about it. Like a life mission. To let others know that it's not normal to think life is a solo venture. You need friends in your life, genuine friends. (So, as I blog, I will keep coming back to the theme of clinical depression because it's one very close to my heart).

So in the past year and a half I have consciously started cultivating genuine friendships in addition to the e few people whom I could not get rid of during the dark years. Genuine friends who don't care that I shut them out, lied to them and misled them. I don't have to mention them, they know themselves and for them I'm eternally grateful.Thank you. I now consciously interact with people, befriend people and am slowly going back where I can, reconnecting with those that once played a meaningful role in my life but had become casualties of my condition.

Dr Charles Stanley asks the question: "Do you have someone with whom to share your joys and sadnesses, strengths and weaknesses, fears and pain? Thankfully, Jesus is the best friend we can have. But He also desires that we have close relationships with others. What can you do today to build this type of friendship?"

My question to you is a bit extreme and this is deliberate. People don't readily agree that  something like this could happen to them but if you read this far you might as well answer the question: If life was to throw you a curveball today, and it hit you so bad that you thought life was not worth living, do you have a person that you know you can call, and they would not judge you, or ridicule you or call you faithless? If you don't, start working on it today, life is a team sport.