Secret conversations ... you know what they are - those unspoken thoughts, feelings and arguments we conduct inside our heads with others, whether strangers, friends or family. They happen after reading an email or facebook post, listening to someone talk, or while glancing at a stranger in public.
These secret conversations run the gamut from a feeling we would never voice aloud: "Oh wow, I think I'm in love, aren't you gorgeous!" ... to an insult: "You're a birdbrain, please stop talking" ... to an argument: "In no way do I agree with your nitwitted decision."
On a recent trip to Arizona, I rented an airbnb in downtown Flagstaff - a college town - so naturally, there were a slew of college kids buzzing around. And I mean ... ALL NIGHT LONG.
One night around 3 a.m. a group of teens were cackling and whooping on the sidewalk below my window (kids, aren't you sleepy yet?). I just wanted beauty rest and quiet. I laid in bed for about an hour imagining all the quarrels I wanted to bark at them, should I find the energy to climb out of bed and the nerve to fling open the window.
"HEY! YOUR MOTHERS JUST CALLED!
THEY SAID TO TELL YOU TO SHUT UP, GO HOME,
BRUSH YOUR TEETH, LIGHTS OUT, AND GO TO BED!"
Of course I didn't. Didn't climb out of bed nor hurl vile words out of the second floor window.
Most of us do not seek or invite in confrontation, so we tend to internally hold back these secret conversations.
But who are we hurting? Whose brain are we spinning? Whose energy are we zapping? Whose body are we filling with stress? Not theirs - OURS. These inside-our-head conversations can be draining.
Could choosing neutrality offer a better solution? How would that feel in comparison? Could we just stop talking to ourselves??
I was desperately trying to practice neutrality Monday during sunset beach yoga here in Florida. The beach was still crowded at 5:30 pm when our class set up; right next to us was a group of four young adults, two of which were vehemently arguing about something (brother and sister maybe?). The rest of the hour they cranked up their rap music too loudly and carried on obliviously to what was supposed to be an hour of "zen" and "calm" for us yogi.
Hey listen, we realize we do not own the beach and are conducting a class in public. It's not all about us. Yet if that were you or me (and hopefully, our kids), don't you think we might have been more polite and conscious than that?
During the hour, I struggled to tune out their bickering, cackling, and (ack!) wake-the-dead music, literally 10 feet away. Instead I challenged myself to focus on the sound of the Gulf waves and the instructor's soothing voice as she led us through poses. At times, I even held my right ear closed on the side they sat; yeah, that helped (not).
It wasn't my most glorious hour, yet those foolish secret conversations won. For the entire class, I ran a continuous loop of squabbles of what I wanted to voice:
- "REALLY?????"
- "Isn't it yet time for you to go home?"
- "Could you please please please turn off the music?"
- "How rude did your mothers raise you anyway?"
- "I'm a police officer and you're breaking the noise ordinance. No, I do not have to show you my badge but I can certainly show you the way off the beach!"
- "SHUUUUUTTTT UUUUUPPP ALREADY!!"
On and on the words blared inside my head - my ludicrous voiceless secret conversations (none of which those kids heard or knew or even cared about). I even ran imaginary scenarios where I offer them $20 if they would sit quietly ... or when I would leap up, seize their music and catapult it into the water ... or yank their orange beach umbrella out of the sand and hurl it so they'd be forced to chase it and thus - beat it, kiddos.
In my head, I even challenged them: "C'mon youngsters, how about you try these tough yoga poses?" lest they were snickering at our buttocks hoisted in the air during downward dog.
Nope. It was all on me. My anger, my irritability, my discomfort. It was MY STUFF.
After class, a handful of other yogi commented on "the nightclub" we were situated next to ... on the kids' rudeness and disrespect ... on the clear certainty they must have been raised by wild monkeys. We all noticed the small troop finally departed the minute class ended.
(At least my fellow yogi affirmed I wasn't the only loon having secret conversations with myself!)
Next time you hear yourself having a secret conversation between you and you ... stop. The imaginary ruckus and bickering will only cause you frustration and disgruntlement. Unless you're ready to open your lips to express the words in your brain (most of us probably won't ... I said, most of us :-) ... what good is it doing you? Diddly.
Focus on your task, yourself, your preference. Choose neutrality.
