The Battle of Mind and Soul

I don’t know about you, but I often feel sort of like I’m at odds with myself. Like there are two parts of me, always battling for the spotlight.

I’m talking about my mind, and my soul.

My mind encompasses my physical body, my thought patterns, and my feelings. It’s the practical side of who I am, and usually has an answer for everything. It can appear with an “I don’t care” attitude, and is the first to have road rage or to yell at people when I am feeling attacked. My mind sort of preys on my insecurities by pointing them out when I doubt myself. When I want to take a weekend off to rest, it tells me I should finish a chore first. It tells me to work harder, and that any argument is my fault. It throws anxiety at me when I try a new dinner meal, take a different route to the store, and drive at night. It makes me feel less than. Although my mind is never this dramatic from day to day, it is definitely in charge of setting the tone for my day.

But my soul, it's pretty much the opposite. It encompasses my heart, my intuition, my emotions. It likes to dream, and finds excuses on why I SHOULD take a vacation or a weekend to relax. My soul has my best interest at heart, and always leads me in the right direction. It reminds me of my strengths, gives me grace during difficult times, and doesn’t judge me when I get it wrong. My soul likes to play by being challenged with new opportunities, and although scared, it often sees the discomfort as a welcome challenge itself. My soul believes all people are good, is quick to trust, likes to give freely to people, but has healthy boundaries. She does everything slowly. Methodically. With intention, even if just to purposely go slow. She’s not perfect, and doesn’t want to be.

My soul plays small, and stays hidden in the hobbit house surrounded by a whimsical garden, and talks calmly and kindly to me. She loves tea and reading and rainy days. In her hobbit home, she doesn’t care about the dusty shelves, just that they are full of lovely books. Her hobbit home is full of dry flowers, mushroom stew and warm sourdough, tables full of creative projects, oversized chairs with fluffy pillows and soft wool blankets, a fire crackling in the stone fireplace with a kettle of warm tea nearby. Candles light every surface, and if you walked by the front door, you would feel it call to you, “Come in. Take a load off. Warm up.”

My mind is more bold, yelling at me like someone stuck in the bottom of a dried up well. Always trying to get my attention, feeling caged in and lonely at the bottom of a dark well, looking up to see the blue sunny sky and wishing someone would walk by. Some days it challenges itself to get out of the well, by breaking sticks or digging holes, while feeling like there is hope of rescue. But it usually ends in defeat, sitting down and waiting for the next idea.

I have spent most of my life in a relationship with my mind at the front, leading me.

My mind, aka my ego, thinks it’s the most important. The most valued. It will butt in with any conversation and try to control the situation. My soul tries to coax its way in, reminding me of my humanness and desire to be treated fairly. Lovingly.

My ego has bullied me. My soul has soothed me.

My ego has put up roadblocks, and my soul has pushed through the defense.

My writing career has been mostly mind - lead, and then my soul comes in to soften it up.

These last couple of years, I have dedicated more of my time to the relationship with my soul. I have built trust in her again, and have let her lead me through several life choices.

In all honesty, if I could have a choice, I would live fully from my soul. It feels like home. It feels like shelter after a storm.

But, I know that in order to live fully, I must accept myself fully, both the mind and soul.

I value and respect both parts of who I am, and sincerely want them both to be a part of my life on a regular basis. But it is a daily struggle to referee who will take the lead on each thing done that day. Neither can lead full time, or I lose parts of me that make me who I am. Neither is more important than the other.

I’m working on bringing these parts of myself together, so they can see the value of each other and live in coexistence.

But I have no idea how to do that. So for now, here’s what it looks like:

When I share on social media, it’s being led from the mind or soul. And either one that chooses to show up that day, I am kind to them. If I’m hard on myself, saying it’s not good enough, I remind myself that it’s a part of me, and because of that, it’s good enough.

When I make plans to have a restful day, it’s usually because my soul needs extra care. So when that day comes, I reassure myself that although my mind isn’t excited about it, I’m still taking the restful day. And ask my mind what it needs during that time - usually something challenging like word puzzles or crochet.

When I meet with my personal trainer for weightlifting, I calm my mind by: reassuring it of its value while my physical body is being challenged. Without my mind telling me to take a break, drink water, and breathe through the movement, I wouldn’t be able to do weight lifting. And I thank my mind for that. Tell it I will come back and pay attention to it, when the dedicated time for weightlifting is over.

And then I actually do come back to my mind. “Thank you for helping me today. I appreciate you giving some time to my soul, by allowing it to care for herself physically. Is there anything you need right now?” And most often, my mind is at peace.

When a crappy driver cuts me off, my mind starts to yell and panic and defend me. My soul soothes me, saying we are safe, and that it’s not worth the trouble. And my mind relaxes in the comfort of not having to fight every battle that presents itself.

My mind and soul grow more and more each day, building a relationship based on trust, kindness, and validation. Some days are easier than others. But they both offer one another grace… that although one will mess up, it's part of the human experience.

And messing up, doesn’t mean losing worth.

It means having worth, even when messing up.