Evie - Beyond the Cusp

            I’d like Evie to get the hell out of my life and out of my head.  I really would.  She’s the voice inside who says, “Everything worthwhile has been or will be written by someone else so cut the crap and go do something worthwhile.”  Of course, she doesn’t say it that nicely.  She says it more like, “Who the f-ck do you think you are you worthless piece of sh-t?” 

            She’s mean, and she has a foul mouth, and she turns up just when I feel like I’m starting to be on a roll with something that feels important or good.  And she’s been powerful, her voice like a bat to the head coming out of nowhere.  Bam and I’m down.  I’ve lived to avoid the pain of that imaginary whack, like a kidnap victim who stays put even when the door is unlocked.  Scared without really knowing it. 

            I’ve been living on a leash that she holds and lets out and reels back in, prancing around within unquestioned boundaries.  Constrained without feeling it so much until I start to take off and then a quick, harsh bite with the pinch collar teeth takes me back to the safe, old, habitual mode.  Do Not Go Beyond the Cusp.

            It’s embarrassing to tell you this because it sounds so nutty on some level but I’m thinking I can’t be alone.  I’m not unique.  There must be fear voices and mean voices and discouraging voices in other people’s heads, not just mine.  What are they doing to us? 

            I am going to pay attention to when that leash gets yanked and try to keep going through it moment by moment.  I’m going to realize that just because it feels like my head might explode it probably won’t.  I’m going to tell Evie, “It’s ok, there there,” and treat her like a scared child rather than a powerful dragon and see how that works for a bit.

            I have this sense that beyond the cusp is something really lovely.  Is a more comfortable, more pleasant, more natural place to live.  I want to live there.