The Quiet Reveals What the Noise Hides

Today is Valentine's Day. To celebrate, I'm wearing my red sunglasses—a hidden blessing from my cataract surgery since I can finally wear sunglasses again. My graphic t-shirt from Amazon has fake heart suspenders and a fake heart bow tie with nice red hearts down the front. I even found my heart-shaped socks, and for an extra push, I have my red Converse All Stars on.

My wife and I are at the library. I spent some time on my novel, then this blog post, and soon we're heading to a pop-up clay date where we'll paint clay pots and enjoy coffee and pastries. I've withheld drinking coffee specifically for this reason. I've avoided the news and social media, and my detox is going well.

So far, the detox has shown me more of my inner critic at work. But by allowing my mind to be quiet, it's also showing me ways out.

For example: I had decided to read some library books but then convinced myself I should return one because I'd had it checked out too long. The truth is, the book isn't due until March 7th. So why return a book I've already read a third of? I'm not sure why my inner critic was pushing me to start over and not finish, but this is a familiar pattern. My inner critic wants me to start over again and again—to avoid finishing things. But I can do both. I can find a new book to enjoy and finish the one I have.

I'm also looking forward to taking a nap after the clay date. Part of me believes that a digital detox will give me all the fuel I need for the next month at school, but I'm not totally sure. What I am sure of is this: I'm looking for lessons today, and the quiet is teaching me.

What does your inner critic try to convince you to restart instead of finish—and what would it mean to do both: begin something new and complete what you've already begun?