The hothead “doesn’t need this crap” and starts demanding great outcomes or else. It demands results and misses the chance to have more of them than it could ever imagine. Meanwhile the doom prophet in me cautions against “believing in fairy tales and good outcomes” reasoning it will only make me sad in the end. But the doom prophet keeps me from honoring my soul’s trajectory and accomplishing what is mine to accomplish, and that makes me sad.

I welcome all parts of myself to have a voice. But I will not give them the choice to derail me. A Course in Miracles has taught me how to “choose again.” No matter what is going on, I can choose again. I can choose from the deeper wisdom within me, the part that is connected to Something Larger and Infinitely Loving. This is the secret to right focus and walking into a brand-new future.

So back to my loud friend at the coffee house. He wears a dingy undershirt and a Yankees ball cap. He’s old school New York to the bone. I imagine him being the cartoon version of my ego, the part of me that is opinionated, quick to judge, and slow to buy in to a new way. Suddenly, he turns to me and balks at the “awful” coffee house soundtrack. “Can you believe this music? Give me a break. Give me some Stones. What happened to rock and roll? Welcome to the future, I guess,” he said.

I started to feel bad for him as he called friends on his cell phone. They were super short conversations. “Hey how’s traffic on the LIE brother?” he asked loudly. Soon after he said, “Love you man,” as the call ended. He quickly dialed someone else. Maybe he was lonely. I had this weird sense that he was an “interrupter,” disrupting the flow of people’s everyday lives.

He was stuck in his knee-jerk responses and the past, just one way of seeing that didn’t seem like it would change. Maybe that’s true of my “interrupter,” or inner doubter. I felt a rush of compassion flood me. I felt sad and wanted to hug the loud man with his phone, and I wanted to hug this part of myself, maybe even send it a bouquet of roses.

Still, I will say goodbye to this part of myself, the interrupter, the one who keeps trying to keep me in my past. The one that turns hiccups into hysteria and diverts me from deepening into a new behavior. I will focus on my intention. I am sailing off on a single red boat into the seas of the present moment, following the moonlight, listening to the drumbeat of my truth in the moment. I’m no longer going to listen to the oldies but goodies.

No, I can’t say exactly what will happen. Still, I have a feeling of promise. No, I don’t have total control. But I’m not going to interrupt my focus and deflate myself with a thousand questions. I’m investing in the quiet dignity of my spirit. I’m choosing again. And again. No matter what it takes.

My neighbor got up. Maybe there was no one left to call. He walked back out into the heat of the street. I kind of felt bad for him, and for that part of me.

But it was time to focus and be free.