The Voice In My Head

Time to turn it off

Rob's comic depiction of the horse I backed in the Melbourne Cup. It came last.

The 2026 Melbourne Cup was held this week. My sister, who knows a bit about horse racing because she and her husband are part-owners of a couple of racehorses, rang up and asked me what my favourite number and colour were so she could put a little flutter on the horses on my behalf. I said the number five and blue. Seeing as there hasn’t been a giant leap in my bank account this morning, I assume five-and-blue got nowhere. In fact, when I phoned her up to confirm this, she laughed heartily and said my horse was still running. In fact, it came last.

Anyway, the subject of horse racing has reminded me of a subject I’ve been wanting to write about for some time, and that is The Voice in my head.

I have a Voice in my head.

I bet you have one too.

If yours is like mine, it’s worse than a horse race commentator.

It never needs to take a breath, is usually negative, doesn’t have a sense of humour and carries on as if life is a race.

The Voice In My Head

I slowly open one eye and then the other in the morning, and that’s the moment The Voice starts up:

And Marlane’s at the post, and she’s off the bed and onto the floor. A little slow with the footwork, but let’s not quibble. Any slower and she’d be called a non-runner. If she doesn’t hurry up she’ll be late for the rest of the day, and no rocketing down the outside or coming up on the inside will prevent her being nailed to the rails today.

By lunchtime The Voice carries a more accusative tone:

Marlane’s on the far side now and it’s hard to tell from this distance if she’s still moving. In fact, she’s further back now than a non-starter. Some have accused her of running backwards but we won’t go that far. Flat as a biscuit about sums her up. But after her tardy start what else could we expect?

Towards the close of the day The Voice holds heavy hints of hopelessness:

Marlane’s approaching the home stretch. She’s in the last turn in the last race of a day that is best forgotten. She’s definitely in the back of the field, or should I say she’s in the back field, which is where she belongs. This may be her last race. Let’s stand to attention folks and clap her off the track. She did her best, but her best wasn’t good enough. It never is.

It’s time to turn off The Voice in my head which never needs to take a breath, is usually negative, doesn’t have a sense of humour and carries on as if life is a race.

Life is not a race.

Life is a glorious opportunity to have a go at doing all sorts of amazing things in a way that they’ve never been done before because each of us is unique.

With love, Marlane