3 Ways to Meaningful Internal Dialogue

As someone who loves solitude, I have spent a significant amount of time in my own company. I am my best friend and worst enemy. In the recent past, in fact, I have had some of the most meaningful conversations with myself. And been able to pause when I catch myself overthinking, a point from where things only spiral downwards.

What I am most thrilled about now is being able to identify the various dispositions of my internal dialogue – constructive, compassionate, honest, strategic, defensive, harsh, reflective, creative and, my favourite kind, amusing.

I have always found the concept of internal dialogue fascinating. I wanted to master the art of conversing with myself and found guidance in my five-year-old daughter – a disguised teacher – who is gracious enough to share all her internal dialogue with me. Less internal and more thinking aloud, it was annoying at first, to be honest. Silence is important for me, even if just a few minutes every day. Not only did my daughter’s generous broadcasts push silence into a rare and scheduled time, it also interfered with my internal dialogue – I could only listen to one voice at a time, her or mine. There have been times when I have resorted to a loo break, just so I could talk to myself for two minutes in peace, but my relentless daughter would be at the door knocking, “Mom, come out, how long will it take?”

Her persistence won and, in hindsight, I am so grateful because she taught me so much! I learnt by simply watching her. I observed her, someone who has far less exposure to the outside world than me, to understand how to talk to myself in the most undiluted, natural way. Here are my observations:

Focus 

I noticed that when my daughter talks to herself while doing something, say painting, her conversation is focused on that activity. It’d go something like this, “Should I paint this pony teal or should I use teal with a light layer of gold? Ah, a light layer of gold, and pure gold for the wings!” The next 15 minutes are dedicated to the pony and its colours. There is no jumping between subjects; the next topic begins only after the current one (in this case the pony) is done.

This made me wonder how often I allowed topics to blend into each other, thereby diluting focus. Just this awareness has helped me process one topic at a time and reduce the noise inside my head. It isn’t easy to maintain focus because our brain is processing numerous sensory impulses at all times. Unless one is thoroughly absorbed in painting a pony or makes a conscious effort to bring back one’s awareness to the topic that needs attention, it is easy to get lost in our internal dialogue.

The Negativity Bias

When I compared my internal dialogue with my daughter’s I realised that at her age the only threats she recognises are those related to physical harm or loud noises (both of which are primal fears). Unless there is something that signals physical danger, she is absorbed in what she is doing – unfazed by whether the audience (me) is enjoying or not. There is no fear of judgement.

My adult brain, on the other hand, was prone to acquired fears of unfavourable judgement, criticism and failure. I realised that what we experience can add to the list of what we fear – especially if the experience was negative. We are wired to be cautionary in order to protect ourselves, but we can draw the line between protecting and overprotecting/overthinking. We are not born with these acquired fears and can therefore rationalise them, as and when they surface. We can explore and assess whether they serve us or not, and if there is something in it to work on and learn.

If there is work to be done, we can treat fear as a gift. If there is no scope for personal growth hidden in that fear, we can move on and get busy doing what we love. I acknowledge that this is easier said than done but it comes with practice; I can assure you of that.

Humour 

Watching my daughter laugh at herself taught me how to use humour in my internal dialogue. For instance, while playing with water she would say something like, “Oh I got my sleeves wet!”, followed by, “But I am playing with water, what else did I expect?”, followed by a chuckle. When sitting besides me in traffic while I drive and grumble where all the cars came from, she says something simple yet wise like, “We are on the road, mumma, there will be cars and buses and trucks because they are driving just like us.” That reality check shuts me up.

Now, when I walk into a grocery store and instinctively complain about the queue at the checkout counter, the witness within me says something to the tune of this: “Others are here to shop too! You chose to come here at 6:00pm on a Sunday and not 2:00pm on a Friday afternoon. The queue is not to torture you Manisha, there is no evil plot here. This is the perfect timing that you picked to see all these lovely people in the queue and to make the queue just a little longer. Also, you didn’t come alone, you got your five-year-old with you who will now jump like a bunny and chatter.” Things sure lighten up when we add a bit of humour to our internal conversations. 

The subject of internal dialogue is vast, intriguing and entertaining. I encourage you to begin in – it’s an indispensable way to get to know oneself better and thus, ground oneself.