Tuesday, November 17, 2015
Hello there, friend,
I have been struggling with my own story, the one in my head that I tell myself. It has taken many years of my adulthood to wade through all the versions of the story -- the one I was told as a child, the ones my parents each individually tell, the one I've cultivated on my own. Right now, the story is shifting. I'm realizing that even the story I tell myself has boxed me in. It has also served me and given me purpose, but it has put up walls around me and the walls are made of fear. Now I don't know how to get out.
So I tell the story again, this time a little differently. Maybe it wasn't so much about what happened to me; maybe it was more about who I inherently am. I'm edging away from the side of nurture in favor of embracing my nature (though we both know that it's some imperfect combination of both that makes a person). I tell the story, see if it rings true, then I tell it again.
And maybe this is what life is all about. We tell our stories, define things in a way that feels true, tell them again, and adjust. My hope is, as the story is told each time, it takes me closer to the truth and it takes me closer to my true self. I hope I see clearer each time.