Here’s a lovely poem about snow falling on San Antonio by Mo H. Saidi, an obstetrician and writer who, in addition to his medical training, has a Master’s degree in English and Literature from Harvard. [Introduction by Ted Kooser.]

The Night of the Snowfall

Snow falls gently in the Hill Country

covering the meadows and the valleys.

The sluggish streaks of smoke climb quietly

from the roofs but fail to reach the lazy clouds.

On Alamo Plaza in the heart of the night

and under the flood of lights, the flakes float

like frozen moths and glow like fireflies.

They drop on the blades of dormant grass.

They alight on the cobblestones and live awhile

in silence, they dissolve before dawn.

The wet limestone walls of the mission

glow proudly after the night of snowfall.

Lately I’ve been living with someone who has nothing good to say about me, who takes every opportunity to put me down and tell me I’m not good enough. In fact, she’s kind of a witch.

She’s my inner critic.

When I put pen to paper, she’s right there with “helpful” comments about how boring and bland my words are, and her most cutting criticism is that I have nothing to say. This criticism becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy and suddenly I don’t have anything to say. No words come. I sit staring at my blank page, bereft of ideas, frustrated that my writing time is slipping away with nothing to show for itself.

My inner critic has nothing constructive to say. She (my inner critic is a she) only tries to shut me down. Nothing I do is ever good enough, and I am not even close to being “good enough.” If she has good intentions, she’s going about it all wrong.

You don’t have to be a writer, artist or “creative” person to suffer from an inner critic. You may have one who trashes your appearance, athletic ability, intelligence, childrearing, housekeeping, or level of hospitality. When an area of life is important to you, you may find you have a small—or large—inner voice criticizing you. Your inner critic may try to keep you from doing what you want, or it may lash out when you’ve been human and made an error.

Frankly, I’m tired of my inner critic’s B.S. I don’t need any inner voices tearing me down. If she has nothing helpful to say, she can just shut up. I don’t let real people talk to me like that—why do I let her get away with it? Here are four things I’m doing to shut up my inner critic:

I hope you don’t have such a vicious voice living inside your head, but if you do, try one or more of the above techniques to silence her. You don’t have to put up with that!

Do you have an inner critic? How do you silence him or her?

As you might expect, I have an interest in positive psychology, the relatively new branch of psychology that focuses not on treating mental illness, but on building mental health and increasing happiness.  Positive psychology is not just “happiology”—about feeling good all the time. It strives to understand the elements of a truly satisfying life.

In Flourish: A Visionary New Understanding of Happiness and Well-being, Martin  Seligman, a psychologist and one of the pioneers in the field of positive psychology, builds on (and explains the weaknesses of) his work on “authentic happiness theory,” refining it into what he calls well-being theory. Seligman writes, “I used to think that the topic of positive psychology was happiness, that the gold standard for measuring happiness was life satisfaction, and that the goal of positive psychology was to increase life satisfaction. I now think that the topic of positive psychology is well-being, that the gold standard for measuring well-being is flourishing, and that the goal of positive psychology is to increase flourishing.” 

In Flourish, Seligman adds two more elements (Relationships and Achievement) to the three elements already named in authentic happiness theory (remember them by using the mnemonic PERMA):

Each of these elements contributes to well-being without defining it.  Some are measured subjectively and others are measured objectively. Seligman added these additional dimensions because he feels that “life satisfaction holds too privileged a place in the measure of happiness” because “how much life satisfaction people report is itself determined by how good we feel at the very moment we are asked the question.” Many people who lack a natural cheerfulness may have more engagement and meaning in their lives than those who are more outwardly “happy.”

Flourish is an interesting book, and though it’s more theory than practical application, it does contain some interactive exercises (I mentioned one of them here). The book also contains a bit of history of positive psychology and Seligman’s career, as well as a defense of positive psychology against critics.

What I took from the book was the idea that well-being was a broader, richer concept than simple “happiness,” and that you can have well-being without constantly feeling cheerful or “happy.” I don’t believe it’s possible—or even desirable—to feel happy all the time. I do, however, feel that pursing the elements of PERMA will help you build a more deeply satisfying—and, yes, happier—life.

“What you think ‘the real world’ is is composed directly of the stuff you see and read. If you choose to read awful things, you’re going to think you live in an awful world.”

—Leonie Dawson

“Everything natural—every flower, tree, and animal—has important lessons to teach us if we would only stop, look, and listen.”—Eckhart Tolle

I’ve had various pets nearly all my life. Aside from their cuteness and cuddleability, pets can be expert teachers of life lessons (and if you doubt me, check out the delightful book Guardians of Being). Currently, I have one elderly dog, a “teenage” kitten, and a middle-aged horse. They’ve taught me many, many things (including don’t wear any clothes to the barn you’re not prepared to ruin, and no, the kitchen counter is not tall enough to keep food away from either the kitten OR the dog…). 

Here are a few of my favorite life lessons from my pets:

From Prudy:

There is a time for play and a time for cuddling. Know your priorities and stick to them.

The world is to be explored.

Like everyone until they prove unlikable.

Assume everyone likes you until proven otherwise.

From Scout:

Do everything joyfully: get up in the morning, go to bed at night, eat, announce your presence to the world.

Sleep when you’re tired, even if something interesting is going on elsewhere.

Don’t put up with bull$&@, but only do as much as you have to to get it to stop—don’t overreact.

From Tank:

You can make huge progress by taking many small steps.

Relationship is more important—and ultimately more satisfying—than tricks or blind obedience.

Hold out for your favorite treats. Spit out the ones you don’t like. Don’t waste time (or calories) on them.

Don’t let the turkeys get you down. 

Animals live in the moment. They don’t worry about what might happen tomorrow, or what the dog next door has, or what the horses in the next paddock might be saying behind their backs. Seems like some pretty valuable wisdom to me.

Have you learned any life lessons from an unusual source?