On my ride to work this morning I was zooming down a hill, grinning like a fool in the dawn’s early light. And no one much oh say can you see’d, since it’s early. But that doesn’t stop my brain from haranguing me.

“You didn’t leave on time. You aren’t going that fast. You should worry about not doing so great at work today.” (I’m doing new stuff at work.)

And then my heart-me yelled out, “Shut UP! You are wrecking it! This is AWESOME!”


I thought about how, all my life, I’ve had not one, not two, but three voices in my head. There’s just-me, then there’s ego-me, then there’s heart-me. And ego-me has a big fat loud mouth. Ego-me drowns out the other me’s since it is, after all, an ego. It’s pushy and always has to be the center of attention. Regular me is just-me. Usually background noise. Heart-me is shy and reserved, not very outspoken or chance-y. Just-me comes up with the ideas, then the other two are like the life commentators- like sportscasters, but without sports, only plenty of keeping score.

I started holding heart-me’s hand and listening when it speaks up. Really listening. Not that wishy washy bullshit where you say “I know, I know” to your sweet self and then listen to the same old song and dance from ego-me. But in the “I HEAR YOU!” way you imagine things might be at some churches where people are swaying with their eyes closed and their hands waving around in the air. Amen.

Getting sober is such an excavation- a mystery. Where did this shit come from? And then: What the hell do I do with it? Well, here’s what I do: I puzzle and struggle and then I figure something out and life gets easier in my head. I move closer to forgiving all of me for my past hurts. Realizing that I can ignore ego-me, or even hear it but just not listen was another one of those moments of a-ha that seem almost stupid since I should have realized that, oh, about a million years ago.

But yay! I’m nurturing my heart-me, my soul. In my head, three is definitely a crowd. Too many indians, not enough chief. I needed some crowd control- so I found another voice in my head: bouncer. But heart-me is the bouncer, which keeps me from being Sybil, since everyone knows you can have up to three voices in your head and still be considered OK. (And, just in case, that is not really true.)

All of this is going to take some practice, practical just-me reminds me when ego-me is steadily murmuring about how this blog doesn’t even make sense. All of this seems so “me, me me” but that’s the way getting sober is: you have to be selfish for a while, get the sharks out of the water, and then you invite folks over for a swim. I have to be self absorbed and all curious about “me” since things were so out of whack before when I was drowning all the voices in my head. And they still are, but in a nice way that is all about: me.