This is an AI-generated transcript from auto-generated subtitles for the video The Inner Critic (2 of 5): Bringing Kindness and Curiosity to the Critic ~ Diana Clark. It likely contains inaccuracies, especially with speaker attribution if there are multiple speakers.

Guided Meditation: The Inner Critic (2); Dharmette: Working with the Inner Critic (2 of 5) Bringing Kindness and Curiosity to the Critic - Diana Clark

The following talk was given by Diana Clark at Insight Meditation Center in Redwood City, CA on April 02, 2024. Please visit the website www.audiodharma.org for more information.

Guided Meditation: The Inner Critic (2)

Today I'm going to continue on this topic of the inner critic. There are a number of different ways we can define the inner critic, but I'm influenced by Rob [Burbea]¹ when he talks about it. He says it's almost like a sub-personality inside of us. I'm saying that not being a psychologist, so we don't have to read any psychological meaning into that—just common, everyday usage.

It is this voice, or constellation of experiences, that is constantly putting us down, belittling us. It is this voice of negativity that's blaming us and nagging us. Maybe it's accompanied with a sense of shame—shame for what we are, or how we are, or who we are. It has this climate of harshness.

Not only that, part of the way that we might even know that it's there is this feeling of inadequacy: "I'm not enough," "Whatever I'm doing, it's not enough," or "I'm not worthy," or "Who I am as a living being is inadequate, not enough in some kind of way."

There is so much pain and dukkha² that can be wrapped up in this structure.

For the guided meditation, like I did yesterday, I'm going to do one that's not the usual guided meditation that we find in Theravada³ retreats or instructions. It's not that general one. To give myself some credibility, I want to say that I learned this from Sharon Salzberg⁴, who is a very influential figure here in Theravada Buddhism in the contemporary West.

Part of the reason why I'm choosing this type of guided meditation is because it kind of usurps power from the thinking mind and the inner critic—it co-opts the thinking mind. I want to use a guided meditation that's not the usual. Not only does it maybe undermine the thinking mind that likes to protest, but it also brings a quality of spaciousness and warmth, and that's what is needed.

So we're going to do this kind of guided meditation. I recognize that many of you are regular meditators—and if not here in the 7:00 AM for years now, which is such a beautiful thing, you maybe have your own meditation practice. But just give it a go. See what it's like to do a meditation practice that's a little bit different than the usual, just with the idea of bringing some warmth and spaciousness without a whole amount of striving and trying to get there.

Taking a meditation posture, a posture that has some uprightness and some ease. This is a posture that expresses our intention to cultivate meditation, cultivate spaciousness, and warmth for the next little bit.

Maybe take a few longer exhales just at the beginning to promote and support a sense of well-being or relaxation. Longer exhales can be a big support for that.

Then, we'll do some loving kindness towards the body in a simple way. You can repeat silently after me. The thinking mind may want to show up and say, "Oh, this is different, this is not the way real meditation is done." Can you just bow to the thinking mind in respect and love it, and then continue with the meditation?

May the head be happy. May the head be peaceful.

May the eyes be happy. May the eyes be peaceful.

May the neck be happy. May the neck be peaceful.

May the shoulders be happy. May the shoulders be peaceful.

May the arms be happy. May the arms be peaceful.

May the hands be happy. May the hands be peaceful.

May the upper back be happy. May the upper back be peaceful.

May the lower back be happy. May the lower back be peaceful.

May the chest be happy. May the chest be peaceful.

May the belly be happy. May the belly be peaceful.

May the hips be happy. May the hips be peaceful.

May the right leg be happy. May the right leg be peaceful.

May the right knee be happy. May the right knee be peaceful.

May the left leg be happy. May the left leg be peaceful.

May the left knee be happy. May the left knee be peaceful.

May the feet be happy. May the feet be peaceful.

We're using the expression "May the body part be happy" as an invitation, not as a demand. Sending goodwill and warmth with well-wishing.

And working our way back up the body:

May the left knee be happy. May the left knee be peaceful.

May the left leg be happy. May the left leg be peaceful.

May the right knee be happy. May the right knee be peaceful.

May the right leg be happy. May the right leg be peaceful.

May the hips be happy. May the hips be peaceful.

May the belly be happy. May the belly be peaceful.

May the chest be happy. May the chest be peaceful.

May the lower back be happy. May the lower back be peaceful.

May the upper back be happy. May the upper back be peaceful.

May the hands be happy. May the hands be peaceful.

May the arms be happy. May the arms be peaceful.

May the neck be happy. May the neck be peaceful.

May the eyes be happy. May the eyes be peaceful.

May the head be happy. May the head be peaceful.

Maybe there's some area of the body that could use some kindness, some warmth, and some care. Sending some well wishes, some good wishes, some goodwill to those areas.

And then to continue with a body scan at whatever pace you like, maybe changing the words to words that resonate more. Keeping it very simple. Very simple and imbued with openness, spaciousness, and care.

Dharmette: Working with the Inner Critic (2 of 5) Bringing Kindness and Curiosity to the Critic

Good morning, everybody—or good afternoon, good day, whatever time it is where you are.

I'm continuing on this theme of this inner critic, this inner voice, or constellation of experiences, or structure, or dynamic—I don't really know exactly which word to use. But it's this thing that is nagging or belittling us, or making us feel like we're inadequate in so many different ways and in so many different situations. This voice of negativity, of blaming ourselves in some kind of way.

It might be in an obvious way—very particular thoughts that we hear like, "Oh, you're no good," or something terrible like that. Or maybe it's just a sense that things aren't quite right. But it comes with a sense of shame—shame for how we are or who we are—and this harshness. There's this feeling of inadequacy that comes with this, that somehow who I am or how I am is not enough.

So much pain can be caught up in this.

I want to spend just a little bit this morning talking about how the inner critic works. Not the complete, everything-unpacked version, but to just point to something that might not be noticed and that can be enormously helpful when it is noticed.

That is this: The inner critic finds, let's say, a fault with a particular thing—one specific thing—and then opens that up and globalizes it into an entire assessment of how we are as a person. The entirety of how we are as a person. It goes from one specific little incident and says, "Therefore, it means that you're no good."

For example, you might meditate before hearing this talk, and there might be an instance where you find your mind wandering off and not with the meditation any longer. This is what minds do, right? This is why meditation is a practice where we have to train the mind to keep on coming back to the anchor. That meditation that I guided us in, the anchor was saying phrases directed towards different parts of the body. Maybe you found the mind chattering away: things you need to do, or thinking, "Oh, this is silly, why am I doing this?" Then you realize, "Oh yeah, oh yeah, I'm supposed to be meditating and coming back to the anchor."

I don't know, maybe that happened once or twice while you were meditating. Maybe for just a few of you—maybe not. But there's this way in which having noticed that the mind wandered turns into: "Sheesh, you should be a better meditator by now. You're hopeless. You're never going to get it."

Something that just has this global assessment of how you are as a person, just because the mind wandered when you were meditating, can turn into this whole sense of inadequacy. This sense of being inadequate might be really slight and subtle, or it might be harsh and obvious.

There's a way in which we can feel just a little out of sorts or off-kilter, or maybe there's a way we feel a little deflated or unenthusiastic—it kind of takes the wind out of our sails. Or it can be really harsh and maybe obvious. It might not be obvious either, just because it's so familiar we just feel like, "Oh yeah, okay, this is the way it should be." There's this way we can feel annihilated, or deeply flawed, or deeply disappointed in ourselves. Not only in ourselves, but in the world. In this way, there is a sense of hopelessness, or this lack of energy, or this want to just disengage and move away from whatever we're doing—this way we want to go distract ourselves to try to make ourselves feel better.

So this feeling of inadequacy, it can be really slight or it can be really harsh and devastating. It might be obvious, or it might be really subtle. It might show up in specific words—I'm using words like "I'm hopeless," or "You're no good," or "You're not good enough"—or it might not be in distinct words. It might just be this general sense of deflation and losing some energy of wanting to go forward. Or if there is energy, the energy is all about, "Okay, I have to fix it, I have to be better here, I'm going to do something about it," instead of this sense of some uprightness and ability to just meet whatever is showing up next.

Just this general feeling of inadequacy or not being enough. And part of this inadequacy shows up also as a sense of "should." Like, "Okay, something should happen." Maybe it's not even clear what it is, but there's a sense of, "Whatever is happening, whatever I'm experiencing, it's not good enough. There's got to be something better. I have to be better. I have to be having a better experience. Or I have to be a better meditator. I have to show up in some kind of way."

The impact, the consequence of this feeling of inadequacy—that this feeling like things need to be better or it's not good enough—is that it squashes our ability to see clearly. To see clearly what's actually happening.

When the inner critic is up—again, whether it's subtle or obvious—there can be a wish to either distract ourselves because it's so uncomfortable, or there's this real sense of "whatever is happening is not good enough and we have to go seek or create or manufacture, manipulate, engineer, do something to make it better."

So when this feeling of inadequacy is there, we're not able to get a clear sense of what's actually happening. We're kind of disengaged from what's actually here. What's the felt experience of this moment? We're no longer able to be present with that. This feeling of inadequacy kind of hijacks our attention and it feels so uncomfortable that we're distracting or going elsewhere or trying to make this uncomfortable feeling go away. So we're not able to see or get a clear sense of what's actually happening in the moment.

This is often why the inner critic feels pervasive and isn't able to be seen. But also, what we can't see is what's needed to learn from the situation.

Maybe in this example that I gave during the meditation—maybe you found the mind was wandering a lot. Maybe we can learn that, oh, perhaps it's helpful to have my morning coffee before I meditate. I'm one of those people; I have coffee in the morning before I meditate. It's just what I do. I don't know, I enjoy it, I like it. But maybe that's something that I have learned: "Okay, yeah, meditation is a little bit different if I have my coffee."

When the inner critic is up and running and we can't see clearly, we can't see clearly what is true (the mind wanders) and then what is extra (this feeling of like, "Oh, I'm a terrible meditator," or "It has to be better," or "I need to be better," or "It should be different"). These are two different things: what's true—what actually happened—and then what gets added on top. This inner critic is adding some assessment that somehow we're inadequate in some kind of way.

So what are some ways that we can practice with this? This will be what we'll be exploring this week.

First of all, we want to relate to this inner critic. If we're able to see how it's showing up and belittling us, and with a sense of harshness or inadequacy or shame—or whatever way it shows up—we want to relate to it with spaciousness and kindness.

Right? Otherwise, it would just be the critic on the critic. And then there'd be the critic of the critic of the critic, and off we go—just this cycle of being critical. So the inner critic would love to co-opt our looking at the inner critic. It would love to do that. That's partly why I'm doing a different guided meditation, because that guided meditation kind of gives the mind something to do so it's not so readily co-opting our experience.

We want to relate to the inner critic with curiosity, spaciousness, and warmth. Like, "Oh, okay, here it is." And to be honest, it's not surprising if it's there. It's so prevalent in modern society or the way things are these days.

So when we discover that there's this strong feeling of inadequacy, part of the way that we can undermine—like usurp the power or the authority that the inner critic likes to give—is to just simply, and with some warmth and some spaciousness, ask ourselves: How am I right now?

How am I right now? What's the experience at this moment?

Tune into the immediate felt experience. The inner critic is always trying to get us to feel like something is better and we have to do something else. But to kind of just tune in—"Okay, no, actually what's happening?"—is a way that really can undermine this thinking mind that's trying to convince us that something else has to be better.

Just ask ourselves, "How am I right now?" in the way that we might see a child that is a bit out of sorts, but we're not sure what's happening. We just ask, "Oh, what's going on? How are you?" with care and warmth. Not because we have to fix it, not because it's wrong to feel that way, but because this is how we express care. This is how we express warmth and engagement and connection.

How am I right now?

And then just be open to what's happening. We don't have to find the answer. Don't have to dig for the answer. Because the inner critic is telling us that the experience should be different and we should be different. And so we can add this "How am I right now?" just with some warmth and some care, and allow whatever is to be found to be found.

Maybe we discover that actually we feel terrible. Can we bring some care to that? Maybe we might find that, oh no, things are fine. And can we bring some care to that?

So we can add this to yesterday's instructions of: I'm doing the best I can right now.

"I'm doing the best I can right now" maybe is a way to respond to the inner critic. Or maybe the sense of "How am I right now?"—like, what's going on? These are two different ways in which we can respond when we feel the inner critic.

Maybe sometimes one way is more accessible than another way. Maybe sometimes you can't really respond or feel into how you are right now, and maybe all you can have is this idea: "I'm doing the best I can right now." So whichever is available, these are two different ways in which we can respond when we discover that this inner critic is up and running.

And not only is it up and running, but it seems as believable and authoritative, which is what the inner critic likes to do, right? To convince us that it's correct. So, meeting the inner critic with some curiosity and care. We don't have to be critical of the critic.

So with that, I'm wishing you a wonderful rest of the day, whether it's the end of the day for you or the beginning of the day. Meeting the critic with curiosity and care.

Thank you.