9. Parched Earth on the Inside

Aug 30

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Listen to "9. Parched Earth on the Inside" on Spreaker.

Overview:

There was a time when my internal emotional environment was extremely Inhospitable. This episode shares a key technique I used to walk my way out of persistent and brutal self-talk and into the creation of a compassion, kind and loving internal voice, which made all the difference in the world.

Hey creatives, I’m C. Jordan Blaquera, and welcome to the Whispering Worth to the World Podcast.
I’m a Master-Certified Life and Artist Coach who specializes in working with creatives. This is where I share what I would tell my younger self, if I could, what I’ve learned about the art of being human, about our inherent divine equality, and how it all relates to navigating our creative expression in the world.
Parched Earth on the Inside
One of my teachers who taught me about accessing and coaching the Unconscious Mind in order to create change was Melissa Tiers and she once described the Unconscious Mind this way:
Think of writing a book.
The unconscious mind is so far ahead of the Conscious Mind. The Unconscious Mind knows the outline of the book, the table of contents of the book. It has written all the chapters. It has created the cover, found the publisher, and actually published the book. The book is done.
And then…the Conscious Mind goes, “Hmmm. I think I have an idea for a book.”
The Conscious Mind is so far behind what the Unconscious Mind already knows, and I think this might explain an experience I had a few years ago. There was a vision that I had often of Parched Earth. What I saw was a vast expanse of flat land with absolutely no growth that was so void of moisture and water that the earth had cracked and separated into dark crevices and gaps throughout the surface of the land.
And this vision of Parched Earth was the representation of what it felt like emotionally inside of me. Dry. Cracked. Inhospitable. Brutal conditions for living things, especially humans as there was no life-giving water anywhere to be found.
Metaphorically, it was a perfect symbol of my internal experience because inside my own mind, if I encountered frustration, disappointment, shame, or any array of negative emotions, my internal voice was quite harsh, “Don’t be such a baby. Quit whining. What’s wrong with you? Get over it already. I don’t have time for this right now. You being disappointed or disheartened is pretty inconvenient. Why are you bothered by this anyway? You shouldn't be. Just get on with it. Jeez. Don’t be so petty. I just need you to friggin’ do what I want you to do. To produce. To not complain, and just get things done. Too bad if you don’t feel like it.”
There was no compassion. No caring. Pretty brutal. As I said, Parched Earth was the perfect symbol for that experience.
This vision was with me for a couple years until something changed.
Matt Kahn, in his book, Whatever Arises, Love That, taught me the idea of treating myself as I would treat a child in pain. And believe me, there was a wide gulf between how I would treat myself vs. a child in pain, as you can probably tell given the flavor flav of my internal monologue.
As opposed to how I treated myself, the minute I imagine not only a child, but a child who is in pain and feeling hurt, disappointed, frustrated or sad, my heart softens. My compassion moves immediately to the foreground where I want to flow it toward the child. I want to meet that child in their pain and let them know I understand. I don’t resist their feelings. I don’t say, “No, no, no, don’t feel that way.” I wouldn’t want to give them the impression that something is wrong with them if they do feel that way. I want them to feel seen, and know that whatever they’re feeling is completely natural and allowed and OK.
Like this, “Okay, sweetie. I want to understand. What’s going on? Tell me all about it. Oh, I get it. It sucks when you drop your ice cream cone. Yes, I know it hurts when the other kids laugh at your or don’t play with you during recess. Oh, my gosh, yes, I know that it feels bad when your brother pulls your hair.”
When I imagine how I would treat a child in pain, it’s like everything can wait. The world stops, and I immediately want to comfort them, look them in the eye and say, “What’s going on? How are you feeling? Tell me all about it. I’ll listen.”
And the loving, compassionate way that I would treat a child in pain was is in stark contrast to the way I treated myself – period -- let alone how I treated myself when I was in pain.
My internal landscape was: Cold. Cruel. Brutal. Mean. Harsh. So unkind.
In other words, Parched Earth.
And so, when I was introduced to the idea of speaking to myself like I would a child in pain, I took it seriously. I could immediately feel the difference between how I treated myself and how I would treat that child, though we were both in pain.
So, I began to speak to myself with that same comforting, compassionate, kind perspective that I would speak to a child in pain with.
Sometimes it sounded like this:
“Oh, sweetie. I want to understand. What’s going on? Tell me all about it. Oh, yes, I get it. It sucks when your mom has forgotten that she is your mother. Yes, Alzheimer’s sucks. Oh, my goodness. She doesn’t even know that she ever had a daughter. What a loss for you. How painful that must be. What sadness. What grief. Of course. I understand. It’s okay that you feel this way. I’m right here and I’ll be here with you through this.”
At other times, it sounded like this:
“Oh, my gosh, you’re worried about what the artists in your classes are thinking. Of course, I get that. Of course, you want them to like you and love your classes. Yes, I know how uncertain it feels when you launch a new program and you are worried that no one is gonna show up and no one is gonna sign up. That makes so much sense. I understand. Oh, my gosh, yes, I know that it feels bad when things don’t turn out like you wanted them to.”
When I started experimenting with speaking to myself this way, I immediately felt the difference. Rain started to fall on Parched Earth. I began to see the thinnest sheet of water begin to slowly move over the surface of my internal cracked earth, beginning to seep down into the dark cracks in the earth’s surface.
Over time, that vision that I once had of vast Parched Earth, an internal Death Valley, if you will…that image began to change even further. At times, I would see a body of water where once there was Parched Earth. At other times, I saw lush green grass and a huge tree providing a wide canopy where many people could rest in shade on hot day. The landscape had become hospitable to growth. Where once there was a severe drought, water could now flow. Things could now grow.
My internal landscape had become:
Loving. Lush. Hospitable. Kind. Compassionate.
We know…we really know that children do not thrive under cruel, brutal, mean, unkind conditions. We instinctively understand that they benefit from loving kindness and compassion. When we allow them to feel their feelings, those vibrations and feelings can move through them so effortlessly. They feel them, and then move on. Easily. Naturally. Things can move through them without getting caught and stored for later when they will eventually need to be dealt with at some point.
We know instinctively that it’s okay for a child to be disappointed because they dropped their ice cream cone, don’t want to do their homework, or want to stay up past their bedtime.
And yet, we withhold this kind of treatment toward ourselves when we face our “grown up” versions of disappointments, dashed expectations, and negative emotions.
But when we’re in pain, I don’t think we’re really that different from children in pain. We are upset, mad, frustrated, sad or feeling some sort of negative emotion.
Maybe we all deserve to be treated in the way we would treat a child in pain.
With an open heart.
With a kind heart.
With a compassionate heart.
With a loving heart.
With an understanding heart.
Maybe you have experienced Parched Earth like I have.
If you are heartless toward yourself in any way…
If you treat yourself with cruel dismissal and disregard…
If you shame yourself by saying you shouldn’t feel what you in actuality do feel…
If you shame yourself by saying you should be “better” than you are and by “better” you mean you shouldn’t be having normal human thoughts, emotions and experiences…
If you experience any level of Parched Earth in your internal landscape…
Give this a try. Speak to yourself in the way you would speak to a child in pain.
You might find that becoming a loving, kind, compassionate, understanding witness to yourself, to your own internal human experience, would be beneficial. Like it was for me.
You will likely feel better. Like I did.
Now, you may not experience less pain, but you might likely reduce the amount of optional suffering you are creating in addition to that original pain. Like I did.
As the Buddhist’s describe, we may still experience the first arrow caused by normal human life which includes painful experiences like heartbreak and loss, but we can reduce the amount of time we experience a second arrow of self-judgment, shame, or blame turned inward. We can reduce the optional second, third and fourth arrows.
Treating myself like I would treat a child in pain became one of my antidotes to Parched Earth. And it came just in time. It coincided with my mom’s Alzheimer’s journey and her completely losing the memory of ever having had a daughter. I was in the midst of losing my mother and being quote/unquote “seen” and known as a daughter by her own mother. Just as I quote/unquote “lost” my mother who no longer had any capacity to comfort her daughter who was in pain, I developed my own internal ability to provide a loving, quote/unquote “motherly,” kind, compassionate internal landscape.
I could offer myself the treatment I had once hoped to find from my mother when she was still capable of compassion and empathy. I would offer myself the treatment I would hope to receive from a friend. I would finally take up the mantle of being my own internal best friend. After all, I am the person I live with 24/7. So, I worked to become the internal roommate, the internal friend, the internal presence that spoke in a loving voice to myself, to me, and provided a safe internal environment to just be me and experience whatever came up for me.
And it is a process. I don’t do it perfectly every minute of every day, but so much more, my friend. So much more. More and more all the time.
And that is how Parched Earth was transformed into a lush, loving landscape of internal acceptance, understanding, kindness and compassion.
All for the price of learning to treat myself and speak to myself like I would to a child who was in pain.

Hey creatives, want to learn more? Go to www.CreateAnyway.Today/about