It’s just before one in the morning, and it’s been a long day. A good day, a fun day, but a long day. Several hours ago I started getting tired, and now my allergies are acting up “just enough.” For these reasons, I hope to keep tonight’s blog quick and to the point. You can do this, Marcus, you can do this.

This afternoon I saw my therapist and read her last night’s blog about my wanting to go easier on myself. She said that voice I have in my head, my inner coach, critic, or asshole that’s always demanding more is essentially my inner child, that part of me that developed early in life and has the need or drive to be constantly productive and perfect. “That strategy was really helpful when you were younger and had a lot of responsibility on your shoulders,” she said. “And you can still rock out perfection if you need to redecorate a house or perform a dance routine. But you don’t have to rock it out every minute of every day.”

My therapist’s suggestion for responding to my inner child was to use compassion. Like, I shouldn’t say, “Listen here, you little shit,” then tell that demanding part of me to screw off. Rather, I should reach for understanding and actually dialogue with myself. (“I’m not encouraging schizophrenia,” she said.) Something like, “I know you think we need to be ‘doing something’ constantly, but we are doing something–we’re watching a movie. I hear you, baby, and I’m making a different choice.”

Sounds easy enough, but changing my mind and thought patterns (like for real) often sounds too good to be true. “And this can happen?” I asked. “It’s possible to live one way for thirty years then effectively turn things around?”

“Yes, I see it every day,” she answered. “Well, sometimes every other day, but still–people can change.”

So that’s good news.

My therapist and I also talked about me finding my voice. (Where did I put that thing?) The conversation was in the context of my saying that I’d started sticking up for myself with the car insurance company of the guy who rammed into my last year, telling the agent that what she was offering to settle the case was “pitiful” and “unacceptable.” I told my therapist I was weary of being nervous both generally and whenever I have to confront someone, of acting like I don’t belong here, of feeling unimportant or small (like I don’t have anything to contribute).

“You’re tired of not being heard,” she said.

“Yes, I’m tired of not being heard.”

I SAID I’M TIRED OF NOT BEING HEARD.

(That was a joke.)

After therapy I ran some errands and ended up at a used bookstore. (I’m prone to do this sort of thing.) And whereas I hardly ever get into good, engaging, balanced conversations with total strangers, especially other guys, especially guys sort-of my age, I did while at the bookstore. I’m mentioning this fact for two reasons. First, life is full of surprises, and–apparently–kind people. Two, just one hour after leaving therapy and talking about wanting to be heard, I was randomly told by a complete stranger, “You have a great voice. You should use that thing.” This was said in reference to my potentially doing voice work (radio, advertising, etc.), but I took it as further confirmation from the universe–Speak up, speak out, you’re on the right track.

This evening I stopped by to see my aunt, who’s getting ready for a yard sale. Sitting down in an old chair on her lawn, I propped my feet up on an ottoman, and the neighborhood stray cat jumped up in my lap. Y’all, this never happens with me and cats, but this fella rubbed his head all around me, stretched out, made himself at home. I kept thinking, God, I hope he doesn’t have fleas, but it really was adorable, the sweetest thing. Thankfully, I’m beginning to enjoy moments like these more. Sitting there this evening, I never once considered that I needed to be elsewhere, doing other things. My therapist says we think of abundance as strictly about money, but it’s also about moments like these and receiving all the love and encouragement life has to offer. It’s about having an abundance of self-acceptance, an abundance of compassion for your inner child. It’s about giving yourself an abundance of grace to grow, to learn, to change, to find your voice.