Inner Critic, Will You Please Shut Up!

Three ways to get past that carping, mean voice and do your best work in the world.

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Oxford, UK, July 16th 2024 Kill Your Darlings zine launch

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This Week’s Question

comes from stymied poet, Eleni, who asks,

How do I get my inner critic to shut up?

The Poet’s Perspective

Ah, the inner critic. We all have one. Or sometimes a chorus of Macbeth-ian witches, wailing and shrieking, or spitting and belittling.

It’s not fair. You’re useless.  Everyone hates your stuff.

I’m a failure. Who could possibly love me?  DON’T DO THAT!!!!

Has anyone ever produced anything quite so banal?

I don’t need to go on, do I. If you’re feeling good in your own skin, they do get quieter. Downgrade to a version akin to a dog dream-grumbling in their sleep. But if you’re stressed or anxious, your inner critic turns into a baying crowd lobbing rotten cabbages at your sorry self as you stand in front of the guillotine.

But whatever their tune of the month, it’s nigh on impossible to get them to shut up completely. So, lower your expectations, and focus on getting them turned down enough so you can do whatever is next on your ‘Oh wow, I’d love to …but can I?’ wishlist.

Okay, Tina wise-arse, how do I turn the volume down, and shift out of paralysis? Here are three ways that have helped me, if not become friends with my inner critic, at least mollify them so I can indeed, get on with my work in the world.

The Turtle Step

I pinched this idea from Martha Beck. Say you’re considering writing a poem. You’ve got an image or a line that’s been noodling away in your head, and it makes you feel all giggly inside, but the thought of getting it down on paper chokes you up like you’re having a nuclear-sized allergic reaction.

Writing the whole poem is far too daunting. So don’t. Halve that step.

Ask yourself, Could I write a verse?

If the answer is No, if your body is still more rigid than a six foot corpse crushed into a five foot coffin, halve the step again.

Could I write down a few ideas?

Better, but still clammy armpits?

Could I open my  laptop?

Okay, Yes.

The point is to break the first step down into something so small your mind says, Oh I could do that. Anyone can do that.

And that dear Eleni, might be it for the day. Or you may find, now your laptop is open anyway, that you could write down that line that’s been playing in your mind. Maybe another. But no pressure. You already opened your laptop. And that is enough.

Curiosity and Anxiety cannot co-exist

I got this one through Dog Training with Dr Tom Mitchell. In extremely over-simplified terms, a dog’s brain contains a seeking system and an avoiding system. In a reactive dog the avoiding system goes into overdrive, constantly asking, Where’s the threat?

But if you can get their attention with playing a game, like Go Sniff!, it engages their seeking system, which asks, Where’s the opportunity? Their body language instantly softens, their anxiety levels go down and the other dog or person becomes a non-event.

Newsflash. Our brains are the same. If, when we feel anxiety coming up, we can instead engage our curiosity, our brain chemistry shifts immediately. I do this by simply beginning a sentence with the words, I wonder…

I wonder what would happen if I picked my pen up?

I wonder what word best describes the sky today?

I wonder what would happen if I re-arranged that sentence?

Sometimes, if I’m really anxious, even making the sound Hmmm… triggers a settling in my brain.

I know. It sounds crazy. And too simple. Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it.

(Don’t) Slay the Dragon

I used to have an overriding desire to kill my inner critic. Especially when they had the same tone as a particularly critical person in my real life. I wanted to slay them like the fire breathing dragon in a fairytale.  I would imagine standing astride their lizard-y corpse, sword held aloft, dripping with their stinking blood.

But here’s a radical thought. What would happen if, instead of raging against your dragon, you put your arm around it? Because when you stay with that nagging, whiny, sneering voice long enough, you’ll start to recognise that it is scared. Scared witless that you are going to do something that will hurt you, or shame you. In a weird and twisted way, your inner critic kind of loves you. And when someone is scared, what works best? Shouting at them, or reaching out with some compassion?

I've come to recognise that my inner critic acts as a kind of diagnostic. Because that voice generally only tends to turn up the volume just as I am about to attempt something longed-for or challenging. As I am about to step onto my proverbial stage, they throw every fear or hideous consequence at me to terrify me back into my hideyhole in the basement. But instead of running back to said basement, I now say Aha! This must mean I am on track! Thanks Inner Critic, now I know exactly what I need to do. Hold on tight, everybody…

Look, I know that must sound like a stretch. I certainly don’t manage this even half the time. But for a brief moment, imagine that it’s possible. Worth aiming for, don’t you think?

How you handle your inner critic? Tell us in the Comment section below. Let’s turn this into a useful resource for everyone.