By Debbie Lynn
The content of our life, the blood we’ve shed, and the tears of joy or sadness—this is our story. It is who we have been, who we will be, and who we are right now. Tell it like it is or let it go.
Our self-story is the moment-by-moment way of being honest with ourselves—taking a few chances, but not making our stuff overly dramatic and hopelessly romantic. It’s about learning to keep it real for the sake of our soul. And over the years our story morphs (or might even disappear) but the one thing that will always remain is the change this story had in us, to us, and with us.
This change (big or small) whether we believe in it (or not) is nothing short of spiritual alchemy. Yes, change really happens and we can’t do a thing about it, so acceptance is a cool thing to put in our pocket.
It is a playground of experiences that are maxed out and stretched out, that put us out-of-our-mind because in all this mental hopscotch it seems like we are the only ones suffering (reality check, we are not).
So when we grab a hold of our world gone mad, shake it to the core and little diamonds begin to tumble to the ground, we get to pick them up and either use them to cut our story apart or to wear them. It’s a choice.
And after it is all said in done, will our tale matter?
That is one more piece of the mysterious puzzlement of our purpose; it is personal, artistic and alive. We need to be open to the possibility that perhaps it didn’t matter at all except in that one tiny moment of our life, and then life goes on.
So when we look in the mirror, do we embrace the years of a worn-torn vision? The one that is caressing an image (our story that we hold in our head), or do we play it safe for the sake of our sanity? Do we meet it, greet it and let it go? That is a hard call because it is difficult at best to look deeply into the eyes of a time come and gone and accept that some of our decisions were probably not the best.
Yet, somewhere down the line we have to drop it instead of replaying the situation over and over. We might just ask where was it that we went awry?
The intensity of retelling our “stuff” can ignite a flame that should have been put out long ago or it can be cathartic, and the art of the tale is how it is told. Did we learn? Did we share it with wisdom, or beat it to death in drama and bitterness?
If it holds no credence anymore perhaps it should be released from the repertoire and we can start a different conversation.
But before we can say, “The end” we need to be completely honest with our heart. If it doesn’t hold relevance anymore when we speak about it, put it bed, it is done. If a twinge of raw emotion still appears in our gut, there is more to learn, more to know, more to grow.
With any luck at all, we find serenity in our story—a solemn serenity that we all have to face sooner or later. It can be cold and brutal, soft and exquisite but it is the best form of enlightenment that is out there. And we all own it.
Our story is in fact, where we meet our selves. Extend your hand gratefully and say, hello.
Editor: Dana Gornall
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