#innercritic

From Self-Judgment to Self-Compassion 🧠

The way you speak to yourself matters. Self-judgment can keep you stuck, while self-compassion creates space for growth and healing.

This Monday Mindfulness reminder invites you to notice your inner voice and practice responding to yourself with more kindness, patience, and understanding.

The voice inside your head matters more than you think. If it's constantly critical, dismissive, or cruel, it's quietly shaping how you feel every single day. You can change that voice. Not overnight, but gradually, with practice and the right guidance.

Improve How You Talk to Yourself🛠️

How You Talk to Yourself Matters

Your inner voice affects your confidence, stress levels, relationships, and emotional well-being more than you may realize.

In this Thursday’s Toolkit video, learn how the Self Relationship Reset Tool can help you notice negative self-talk, soften your inner tone, and build a healthier relationship with yourself.

The way you speak to yourself shapes how you move through the day. A kinder inner voice can create more balance, confidence, and emotional steadiness.

Grab the Self Relationship Reset worksheet to help apply this to yourself. 👉 https://www.btgcoaching.com/self-relationship-reset

Don't get me wrong, I am not a dirty person. I just have an artistic spirit that occasionally lets me overlook a spec or two or more. Today is a Saturday, the first since the 2 days I have decided to be a full time artist and as it is the weekend I decided to respect my personal wishes of being a 9-5 artist and give myself a chance to rest, reset and recalibrate on the weekends.

I woke up and finished off my book 'Pirensi' which was a very very good read. In fact, I think it was what inspired me to start writing here. A man named Pirensi basically finds himself in another world, a house filled with sculptures and an indoor sea. We begin the book following a typical day of his, doing his tasks, menial things but do not understand what is going on. He is more or less alone in his day to day so he decides that the reason he is there must be to catalog and research this other world which is actually a house but has indoor weather etc. He has his journals and he begins writing each day as if someone somewhere at some point will read it. I find this idea soothing, that if I ended up in a distant land and had no clue as to how I got there, that I would simple carry on. I wouldn't fret or spiral but would just get to work. Somehow, I feel this is the tin or worms I have opened for myself by writing and posting. I am posting to the WWW a place which much like Pirensi's 'House' used to be nothing but an imaginary inbetween realm that had the potential to exist. Now the World Wide Web is an intangible place that exists. Only few thought it possible and at the time maybe they too were thought mad.

The other day my boyfriend asked me what I believe in. He asked this knowing partially that I have some sort of spiritual beliefs but I have never clarified them to him. My beliefs lie in this world. Everything that is around us, the air we breathe, the land we walk on. Our very existence allows me to believe. Nature is one word we used for it, some others say Mother Nature, and this could be what I am referring to. But I like Piranesi at times feel that when I do not know anything else all I can believe in is what is right in front of me. Ofcourse, I admire the many great things that man (and woman) has achieved but I do not believe only in our knowledge and growth as a species. I believe in all the things the advancements we have made have allowed us to see regarding the universe, the stars etc. I am a believer of science, despite never delving into it too much. I always wanted to but like many things when you are young and told you got a C all of a sudden the subject feels out of reach for a person like you. Art was all I got an A+ in and that is all I thought I was good for. I can visualise things that don't even exist, I can draw something which I have never even seen and combine colours which may have not been together before. All this is magic to me. Real magic. Even as I write the word I think myself silly for using it. But it's true, magic has this connotation with spells and witchcraft and in my head (the witch-trials) but I think of science and magic going hand in hand. The magic of seeing a bean sprout for the first time. That first witness sitting there confused, thinking how it could be. They thought the land blessed then they thought the sky blessed, the sun, the rain. They thought it some kind of miracle. Once the awe passed the humans were able to see, the sprout started as a seed and was put in the earth, grew with water and sun and so they must have repeated the process. That is another kind of magic on its own, the magic of human observation. What a marvellous thing to have. I myself do not feel very observant, usually im too busy lost in a thought or mental picture projected in my brain. I have ideas too, lots of them, too many. They bounce around joyfully but usually don't stay still long enough for me to catch them. Since writing here I have come to realise that there so much, sheets and sheets in me, waiting to go out. I haven't unleashed them ever. I got a B- in literature, that must mean something, right? I'm a bad writer. Who would want to listen to what I have to say?

This specific thought is one I carry with me. Its one of my pieces of luggage. I think if I were to visualise it it would be like carrying a little person on my back whispering in my ear constantly. Everything I speak think see, it sees what I see over my shoulder and reaffirms or invalidates other thoughts I might have. When doing the Artists Way I think this was called "The Inner Critic" but I know very well my inner critic isn't inside and it is a waste of time looking for it there. Yes it is an it it does not deserve a pronoun. The Inner, or Outer, Critic is a blob of formulated fears and anxieties that have been projected and enforced upon me by external individuals. My little blobby backpack will one day be shed and I have the feeling my art will help me do this. So far I paint create and imagine with the weight of it on my shoulders, the art I make is calculated controlled, for even alone in a field in a house with 3 neighbours after days of not talking to anything, I find the judgement still there looking over my shoulder.