Observer.

I pulled out my journal as the plane leveled out from its ascent and settled into a three-hour flight home from our thirtieth anniversary trip (that number still explodes in my mind). After a week of deep rest and refreshment on a tropical beach, my heart was actually heavy. The morning’s departure seemed plagued by stresses and mishaps, and I felt disoriented. As usual, I tried to sort out the inner clutter by writing.

It all started when we went for a run that morning, and on the uneven ground, Kellie twisted her ankle. Pretty badly, actually, and hours later she was still limping with pain. I wound up doing the packing for both of us before heading to the restaurant for a rushed breakfast. Checkout had complications that left me feeling stressed, and the shuttle to take us to the airport arrived late. At the terminal counter, we found out that my flight reservation had been accidentally cancelled by them, so that took an extra half hour for them to figure out…while the flight was already boarding! We did manage to make the flight, though, and while I was writing all this down, I realized I didn’t have the new sport coat I had been carrying; I must have left it in the airport! Wow, rough way to end a great week.

I closed my journal entry with this sentence: “I’m dragging myself home from paradise a little ragged.” Opening a book, I tried to read a bit but found my attention wandering back to all I had just written. What did it mean, this rocky transition back toward our real lives? Where was God in all this?

I closed the book and re-opened my journal. Looking at that last line again, something kicked into gear inside me. That’s the story I’m telling myself, I thought grimly…but it’s not necessarily the only story. Or the right story. Or the most helpful story. Could there be another way to look at this?

My Inner Observer had showed up. Finally.

Have you met your Inner Observer yet? It’s that part of your awareness that can separate itself from all the emotional content you’re feeling, step outside yourself as it were, and take a more objective look at what’s going on. This is an absolutely critical skill for the psycho-spiritual journey we’re all on. Very little transformational growth can occur without it.

We could call the Inner Observer the Holy Spirit, and that wouldn’t be wrong. But using this fresh language for one aspect of the Spirit’s work in us leads us to a vital realization: The art of spiritual growth requires us to recognize our over-identification with thoughts and feelings so we can respond to a much larger Reality. We have thoughts and we have feelings…but our true identity, our essence, lies in neither. Which means that we can listen to the information coming from head and heart (and body as well) without being bound to it. Our three information centers are here to serve us, not to enslave us.

Here’s another way of looking at it. We are subject to a constant stream of data flowing into our lives every day. We have conversations. We go places. We initiate certain activities. Other circumstances, not always of our choosing, find their way into our lives. Stuff happens…and then we assign meaning to it. We take a collection of events and then wrap a story around those data points that makes sense to us. This is all very normal and human. It’s just not always the truth.

The danger here lies in assuming that interpretation is reality. The events themselves are real; the story we tell ourselves about those events is—let’s be honest—a fiction. A creation. Our storyline is one possible interpretation out of a host of various possible interpretations. Some of our stories are more credible than others, but they are all intensely subjective. Thus, the need for another “Observer.” A third party. The Holy Spirit.

In my case I had stitched together a whole string of unpleasant circumstances (which were objectively true) and then concluded that I was “dragging myself home ragged” (a subjective narrative to try to make sense of those circumstances.)

Was my story wrong or right? Well, maybe there’s a more useful question to ask here: Was my story helpful or unhelpful? Was that story going to help me live more easily out of my true self, more in sync with God? Would that story help me be more present and available to love others well, or would it tend to mire my attention in self-preoccupation? I think we all know the answer to that one.

So here’s what happened.

My Inner Observer kicked in and offered me the crucial insight. I didn’t even have to create a new story for myself. All I had to do was detach myself from the old one. My feelings about the challenging events that morning didn’t change instantly, but I began to feel lighter almost immediately. And over the course of my flight home the hues of color began to return, inviting my soul out of the dingy monochromatic where I had begun. And, as it turned out, Kellie had my sport coat all along…so that was a mercy. But by the time I realized that, it honesty didn’t matter. My heart was free.

ThriveTip

So what are the stories you’re telling yourself right now? Narratives about your job, your boss, your marriage, your finances? Are they true? Maybe. Partly. Are they the whole truth? Probably not. Now the real question: Are your storylines helpful? Spend a little time journaling your thoughts around that.

The spiritual practice I have found to be most helpful in activating the Inner Observer and easing my attachments to storylines is Centering Prayer. Got a few minutes? Check it out here and try it now.

Takeaway

Take a step back from your stories.