Coaching My Inner Critic

“Perfectionism is the voice of the oppressor, the enemy of the people. It will keep you cramped and insane your whole life, and it is the main obstacle between you and a shitty first draft. I think perfectionism is based on the obsessive belief that if you run carefully enough, hitting each stepping-stone just right, you won't have to die. The truth is that you will die anyway and that a lot of people who aren't even looking at their feet are going to do a whole lot better than you, and have a lot more fun while they're doing it.”

― Anne Lamott, Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life

As I struggle to produce even the first step per Lamott (a shitty first draft), a friend advises me:  "Lose the inner critic."  My sister teaches creativity workshops in which she strongly encourages her students to "dare to suck."  I was once in an improv jam session with her in which the primary theme, sung and danced with a blues motif, was all about daring to suck.

All the self help books in the world tell you to be aware of the voice of your inner critic so you won't inadvertently censor your every move.  In fact, that's not enough.  I think you have to be acutely aware, and then write down every word verbatim for awhile, every word that nasty little bastard is whispering in your ear. 

"No sense in even starting to write that blog/novel/poem--you know it won't be any good."

"No one will read it"

"You have nothing interesting to say."

"It's a waste of time!"

Then close your eyes and perhaps imagine that a school teacher has said those things to your kid. Now do you feel your talons unsheathing, ready to fight back?

Since the inner critic is really a part of me and probably does have some useful insights, I'm wondering if I can coach him to be more constructive.  If I model the constructive approach for him, next time the negativity sets in, it might go something like this:

My inner critic:  You're just not creative enough to come up with new ideas.

Me:  You know, we need to talk.  You're not helping.

IC:  Hey, it's tough love.  Somebody has to keep you honest.

Me:  All this negative talk just shuts me down creatively and I can't even muster up the guts to suck.

IC:  Well, as I was telling another one of my clients...

Me:  Clients?!  You harangue other people this way too?

IC:  Sure--my genius is relevant everywhere.  This other client is in an African dance class.  She just loves this class and has gotten some compliments about her dancing. At the end of each session, the drummers drum wildly and a dance circle forms where one dancer at a time can prance to the center and show her best moves.  My client would just love to enter the dance circle.  So far I've protected her from making a fool out of herself by sucking. She goes home each week after class sad, but safe and sound, unembarrassed.

 Me:  But she's miserable.  Each week she regrets not having the courage to enter the circle, you bozo!

IC:  Not worth the risk.  She's not perfect, you know.  She'd just disappoint herself and everybody else and we can't have that happen.

Me:  Look, I don't know about the dancer, but I need a change.  From now on, if you can't say something constructive, don't say anything at all.  Otherwise I'm going to switch channels and stop listening to you altogether, got it?

IC:  You're a coward!  You can't take the truth. If you're that sensitive, you'll never get anywhere anyway.

Me:  There you go again!  I'm shutting you down.  Every time you say something negative I'm going to block it, and think of trees instead, since I'm quite fond of trees.  They're beautiful and they produce oxygen, essential for breathing...

IC:  Trees!  What a stupid...

Me:  ...Oak.  Pine.

If:  ...stupid...

Me:  Sycamore.  Sassafras.  Breathe.

IC:

Me:  You know, I'll take constructive criticism...

IC:  You wouldn't know constructive criticism if it bit you in the...mmf.  Bmf.

Me:  Look, since you're part of me, we both have my best interests at heart, right?

IC:  Right, but you don't want your blog to suck, right?

Me:  True.  But right now I'm working on what Anne Lamott calls a "shitty first draft" for my blog. Just getting my ideas down in some form, knowing nobody will ever read it in this form.  It doesn't have to be perfect.  Really.  If you have something helpful to say, I might let you help me edit it later.

IC:   You know you get wordy.

Me:  I know.  We can polish it together.  Later.  Once the first draft is done.

IC:  Okay, if you ever conquer your laziness long enough to finish the boring first dr...   Mmf.  Bmf.

Me:  ....Maple.  Boab.  Eucalyptus.  Ginkgo.  Boojum.  Avoid using words like lazy and boring.

IC:  You said shitty. 

Me:  I'm allowed to call it a shitty first draft--you're not.

IC:  Looks like you've got a good start.  As soon as you finish the first draft, which I'm confident you will, I'm convinced it'll meet your shitty standards and I'll be right here, ready to help.

Me:  Better.   You can do this.  Meanwhile, go tell that other client of yours that she's a beautiful dancer who deserves her spot in the sun, and in the dance circle.