A little while ago, I wrote a post about one of my nasty habits called The Head Murderer. Contrary to what you might think, it wasn’t about my penchant for stabbing people in the temples. The Head Murderer is the nickname I’ve given to what nice Christian people might call “a critical spirit”. I don’t like using that expression, because it’s far too nice a name for the rancid, judgemental acrimony I seem capable of sometimes, usually as a kind of subliminal self-talk while I go about my general business. Read the previous post linked above for more details about this, and see if it’s in any way familiar to you. And when I say that, what I mean is, do you think you have a Head Murderer too, not do you think you came across me in peak hour traffic yesterday. Either way, I suspect the answer is probably yes.
I don’t think something as nice sounding as a spirit could actually be something as nasty as critical – it’s like a contradiction in terms. That term critical spirit makes me think of a cranky elf, something like Tinkerbell, a sweet little sprite with a jealous streak, who sulks and pouts whenever big ole Wendy comes in the room. I can tell you, thats nothing like my Head Murderer. The Head Murderer is a complete bastard, and would as easily call you every name under the sun as blink in your direction. Maybe it’s too much caffeine. Probably not though.
You should be thankful I don’t like toys as much as this woman. Only kidding.
I think the Head Murderer is the real me whenever I actually don’t remember I have a spirit in the first place. As Doctor Phil always says, you can’t change what you don’t acknowledge, and if I don’t acknowledge I even have a spirit most days, then it isn’t surprising my Head Murderer takes over. My spirit is good at being sweet. It’s my spirit that knows how to be accepting, kind and generous. It’s my spirit understands the power of a smile. And it’s my spirit that breaks the shadow that springs up between me and others when I assume they are judging and criticising me in the first place.
Because the Head Murderer feeds on fear.
Fear I’m not accepted. Fear I look funny or fat, or not tough enough. Fear I will be ripped off, tripped up or ridiculed. Fear of being too much. Fear of not being enough.
Nothing like I feel when my spirit is awake and active and doing what a spirit does.
I’ve decided the best course of action is to put my Head Murderer into rehab. I have designed a program based on the one I saw work at the rehab farm my husband went to a few years ago. Back then, what I saw was something amazing in action – something that changed lives, and which I have come to learn is the only thing that can.
It’s based on sacrificial love. A very wise lady once told me that people need love the most when they deserve it the least, and so I will endeavour to extend to Ms. Murderer the love I know she so wantonly craves.
Or get myself smote in the kneecaps trying.
Look out Ms. Head Murderer, like it or not – you’re goin’ into The Program.
Step 1 – Whenever we go out, Ms Murderer, we will wake spirit up first and take her with us. In fact, I think you’ll find, spirit is up before you anyway. In fact, Ms Murderer, you will make sure you are accompanied by spirit at all times. No exceptions – not even ducking out for milk. Especially not when ducking out for milk. It’s those short, unplanned trips that get you – or should I say, get everyone else head murdered – every time.
Step 2 – Ms. Murderer, you will from now on not simply blather the first thing that springs to mind, which has in the past usually been something designed to create a safe distance between you and the outside world, i.e.; something critical, judgemental or ill-mannered. Actually, it’s all just been plain, old nasty. Instead, you will immediately defer politely to spirit, who will be waiting with something kind and respectful for you to think instead. And you’ll do it, or there’ll be no caramel latte, now or later on. Capiche?
Step 3 – Ms. Murderer, you will listen carefully to what spirit has to say, because spirit has something to tell you. Something like you are great, you are awesome, you are unique, you are loved, you are okay, you are capable, you are not too much, you are more than enough. Stop being such a cow. Because when it comes to you, Ms. Murderer. You’re loved, so much. Despite your terrible behaviour. That’s grace. Suck it up.
Step 4 – Ms. Murderer, let’s face it – you’re a stubborn, obnoxious shrew. Because of this, spirit reserves the right to call in the big guns whenever necessary. Yep, that’s right, big ole Holy Spirit will be called in whenever an intervention is called for. So look out.
Step 5 – Just remember – everything is going to be all right. *insert big hug here*
Because when it comes down to it, Head Murderer is just a big girl, who really just needs some love.
I’ll let you know how the program pans out, and whether Ms. Murderer remains compliant. So far, so good. Spirit is a tough cookie. And after all, there is caramel flavoured caffeinated beverage involved.
How timely… I have three people I’m struggling with. One of them is actually a very nice person, but annoyingly clingy with no boundaries, but nice, so the Head Murderer feels very guilty about her feelings. But in more general terms, you’ve hit the nail on the head, it has more to do with how I feel about myself and my fear of my unacceptability or what they are thinking or feeling towards me. I’ll have to try your steps next time I can feel my defensive hackles rising.