Inside Voices Inside My Head

I don’t remember a lot of things from grade school. But there is one image that is seared into my memory.

I’m in first grade. The class has just come in from recess. Our line was loud coming in from outside. The room is dark because we forgot to turn on the light in our dreadful anticipation of our teacher arriving. We know the inevitable lecture. We are not new to the ways of school. We know that outside voices are for outside and when we are inside, we need inside voices. But we disobeyed. And now a punishment awaited us.

Eventually, everyone learns the whole inside voices thing, and it’s not really a problem anymore. But somewhere in adolescence, someone starts telling people that as long as you are using your inside voices, you should be listened to.

I wish people didn’t listen to me so much. When someone gets coffee with me for the sole purpose of talking to me, I talk too much, I say things I don’t mean, and worst of all, I make mountains out of molehills.

I think a lot. It’s kind of something I do. But I waste it. I waste it on all of these gossipy things that I think are conversational mountains, but really, they are molehills. Tiny. Insignificant.

And it’s kind of like I’m using my outside thoughts, inside my head, trying to create drama among thoughts that don’t have drama. No one ever tells you that you need to use inside thoughts, inside your head, but you do.

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