Criticism

It’s garbage day and I had much less work to do this week. I didn’t have to roll the cans out this week because I never brought them in. The cans sat in the rain all week while I snuggled in my warm house, wrapping presents. 

My impulse is to call myself lazy. What if instead of lazy, I didn’t call myself anything at all? What if it’s just a fact that I didn’t want to go out in the rain, and that’s okay?

Throughout our lives, we are criticized, constructively or not. The critical voices come from outside, but we internalize them. We learn to judge ourselves. 

If a friend told me that she was a bad person because she didn’t roll a few garbage cans across a street in the rain, I’d laugh at her. It’s ridiculous, really, the idea of judging anyone so harshly. I’d tell her that she is allowed to make choices that honor her comfort. It’s okay.

What isn’t okay is listening to the negative criticism. Rather than beat myself up, I’m going to make friends with myself, and be as kind and loving to myself as I would be to any of my friends. 

I didn’t have to roll the cans across the street last night because they were already there. If you ask me, that luxurious. I made a wonderful decision for myself, and there is no need for judgement. 

It’s garbage day, and I’m sending away anything I wouldn’t say to a friend. I stayed in bed with my puppy, and the garbage cans were just fine across the street in the rain. No harm done, and no reason to beat myself up about it. Maybe I’ll bring the cans in tomorrow.