These are the people I’ve so far discovered living inside
me:
The sensitive child.
The petulant, demanding adolescent.
The adventurous 30-something.
The middle aged curmudgeon.
The old sage.
The novice mystic.
The ageless person who comes out mostly when I’m driving. He
gets angry easily, shouts and swears a lot, then laughs about it. He’s OK,
really.
And, of course, there’s the dispassionate observer who
watches them all.
It’s interesting to see which one takes the lead in
different situations, and sometimes they argue among themselves so vehemently
that they bring me to a standstill.
And this post isn’t just about me. I’ve heard others
describe a similar disparate family of beings all pulling them in different
directions. I think it might be an old soul thing.
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