Why I talk to monsters

A crochet monster

One of my friends think I shouldn’t be talking to my monsters, which are just a metaphor for ego anyway, but should instead starve them to death with inattention. And really; why do I assume that their intentions are good? Surely that is just what I want them to be.

Um… yes. Of course I want their intentions to be good. Assuming otherwise would mean assuming that I am sabotaging myself intentionally and knowing exactly what would be good for me. Even the worst of my monsters wouldn’t go so far as to suggest that.

Even though I find my friends attitude incredibly hurtful, I would like to take a moment to explain what I mean when I say I am talking to my monsters and why I do it, except for the obvious reason that it works. A monster can be a collection of recurring thoughts that inhibit action on a certain project, or elicit a general feeling of insufficientness and stuckification. A monster can also be a pattern that is triggered by certain ordinary events, leading to stucknesses. Both are products of my brain, my personality, my past experiences and the current situation. In essence they are parts of myself. Which, yes, means that I talk to myself.

Behavioural therapists have a model wherein our actions are determined by a trinity of a passive (child like) part, an active (parent like) part and an integrating (grown up) part. The passive and active are usually in conflict and action needs to be mediated by the integrating part. Therapy seeks to strengthen that integrating part. The monsters are like the child and the parent parts. I guess you could also call that ego. But really where is the fun in that?

And that is one reason I choose this metaphor. It is inherently playful and creative. Remember the movie Monsters Inc., the catchline of the company was “We scare because we care.” Which pretty much sums up what the thoughts and patterns are meant to do. Each monster disguises a need I have, as each pattern satisfies a need. Talking to the monster lets me discover the need behind it and then maybe satisfy it. But how would I talk to something as amorphous as ego? Right, I wouldn’t. I would simply starve it to death without ever discovering the underlying need.

A monster can be scary, but it has a shape and a defined space and a personality. It can be bribed and understood. It can accept invitations to tea. And at the end of that tea, I know myself better, I have a little more ease in living in this world and I can move forward with my projects.

So yes, I have monsters with good intentions and I feel protective of them. It’s not their fault that they have the facts all wrong. I can talk to them and set them straight. That is scary but always worth it.