Ever watched ‘Dexter’ 🔪? You know, that show about a Serial Killer where the his inner thoughts are like a never-ending Twitter feed, but he barely utters a word?
That show was my lightbulb moment — the moment I realized my inner voice wasn’t just a mental notepad for grocery lists and chemistry formulas. It was more like a live commentary of my life.
Fast forward a bit, and I’m realizing my brain is like a quirky sitcom with two main characters.
First, meet the ‘Sage’ — my inner philosopher, doling out wisdom like free samples at a grocery store. Helps me navigate the complexities of life… like people, religion, empathy.
Then there was the ‘Monkey’ voice — like a a caffeinated squirrel on a sugar rush — impulsive, reactive, always ready to jump into action without a moment’s pause. It usually chills in the background, but the moment it smells a hint of trouble, it’s like, “Hold my banana; I got this.” But, most of the time, its ‘help’ lands me in a facepalm situation.
I’m not your textbook ‘nice guy’. Snappy, irritable, mood swings — you name it, I’ve been there. My go-to scapegoat? Mr. Monkey Mind.
I always figured if my inner primate could just chill for a sec and chat with the Sage, maybe I wouldn’t end up putting my foot in my mouth so often.
But then, I stumbled upon a quote by Tony Robbins that made me rethink everything:
‘The quality of our lives is directly proportional to the quality of our questions.’
It dawned on me that maybe, just maybe, I was being a tad unfair to my inner Monkey. Was it possible that this impulsive part of me was merely reacting to the narrative I’d been spinning?
I realized I’d been serving my Sage a junk-food diet of whiny questions:
‘Why is life so unfair to me?’
‘Why does everyone misunderstand me?’
‘Why does my toast always land butter-side down?’
No wonder my Monkey was always on edge, ready to pounce at the slightest hint of trouble.
So, what if I switched things up?
Instead of asking ‘Why is this happening to me?’, I could ask ‘What can I do to improve this situation?’.
Instead of wondering why everyone misunderstands me, I could explore how I could communicate better.
It’s about shifting from a ‘Why me?’ mentality to a ‘What can I do about it?’ approach. It’s about swapping the ‘Woe is me’ playlist for a ‘Let’s fix this’ jam.
A small shift in the questions to the Sage might just be the nudge my Monkey needs to swap its boxing gloves for a detective cap. It could give me that precious moment to respond thoughtfully rather than react impulsively — a few seconds to think before I do my usual verbal cannonball.
This isn’t about lying to myself that everything’s peachy. It’s not about fooling myself into believing life’s all rainbows and butterflies.
It’s about asking better questions — upgrading my internal Q&A sessions, ones that empower the Sage and pacify the Monkey.
It’s a small tweak in my inner dialogue, but who knows? It might just be the change that guides me to act with more wisdom and less regret.
So here I am, ready to give my internal sitcom a new plot twist. Maybe, just maybe, this could be the beginning of fewer facepalms and more high-fives in my mind’s wacky adventures.
