The Two Voices

There are 2 voices in our heads. More often than not, we hear only one. We start with just one as children. As we grow up, the world teaches us to stay safe, and that slowly makes us risk averse. In our effort to protect ourselves, we knowingly or unknowingly develop judgments. These can be allies if used well. The word 'judgement' is often perceived wrongly, but without it, we'd remain fallible children—getting tormented by the realities of life in ways we can't imagine. That said, each of us sharpens our tools differently, and that creates an imbalance in our judgments. And it’s from this imbalance that problems often arise. We start gauging people subconsciously, looking at them through our 'safety' lens. We begin to believe that someone else is to blame for the pain we experience. If not a person, then luck. But whatever it is, it feels external, bad, and beyond our control. That’s the narrative of the first voice.

The other voice is quite contrary. If you have ever observed small children—really small, before they even begin to speak—they are remarkably welcoming and open, especially towards other children. They see other kids (most if not all) as their friends, approach them with warmth, curiosity, desire to play, and sometimes, even care. They don't judge. They don't fear. That's the pure feeling of love we all start with. There are no walls, no layers of defence, but a raw, trusting energy. As it's said, the Absence of fear is Love. And if anything, love is the strongest emotion we exhibit as children. But where does this love come from? Maybe it’s our deepest instinct, one that remembers the truth—that we all emerge from the same source. Call it God, light, the universe, or whatever you will.

​There's no right or wrong voice. One voice protects our bodies and the other nourishes our souls. They both are intertwined, and we need both. But as adults, we rarely hear the second one anymore—the voice of love which we all used to hear as feeble, yet fearless children. And it's not gone. It’s just suppressed under layers of logic, responsibility, and fear.

As adults, practicality, rationality, and even judgements, have their place in our lives. They keep us and our loved ones safe. But maybe, even the people we fear or dislike are also coming from that same instinct—to protect themselves. So much so, that they become too centred onto themselves and see themselves above others.
Yet, even the hardest people often soften in front of a child—a fragile being who doesn't reciprocate their energy at all. I’ve seen it, and so have you, probably. You’re in a foul mood, angry at something, and suddenly a child comes by. Not doing anything special. Just being. And everything changes. You smile. You breathe. You remember something softer in yourself. Isn’t that hard to explain? The energy we radiate matters. And sometimes, to change what we radiate, we need to interrupt that 'default' voice which we inherited while growing up, and give the other voice a chance. What if we could experience that again? What if we could send out love and care towards a stranger passing by on a street, for in them resides the energy of that very kid we were curious to play with, and it sill does. Wouldn't that be a beautiful experience?