But I love a good story!

I’m a storyteller. As a kid I made up bedtime stories starring Moi, and this blog is all about telling stories, starring Moi - all very enjoyable for me, I must admit. And it’s well documented that people learn well from stories: We have histories and Holy books, parables and tall tales, mysteries and romances and Sci-Fi-thrillers. Our parents, our teachers, our friends- everyone is telling and sharing stories. Humans love stories.

When something happens to us, viola! A new story. Like the other day, I was walking along with the dog, talking to myself and enjoying a loving morning, when whoops! Jack cut across in front of me and there I was, lying on the sidewalk with two skinned knees. This is fact. That is what happened. That is the whole, truthful story.

But by the time I got home, 3 minutes later, well, the story was much bigger than that!  In fact, it wasn’t one story, but many. “I am a clumsy ass. “ “Actually, I have new runners and the grips are really strong so I couldn’t turn fast enough.” “The neighbour now thinks I am a clumsy ass with giant feet and an unruly dog.” “That’s it for shorts this summer, my knees are a disgrace.” “I’m so embarrassed, I may never walk the dog in daylight again.” 

I had a job interview last week. In fact, I got called back for the second interview. I was supposed to hear by Wednesday if I had the job or not. But I didn’t hear until Friday afternoon. Plenty of time to tell myself lots of stories and make myself more than a little crazy: “They hated me. I didn’t get the job and they can’t be bothered to call.” “I’m a terrible person.” “I’m too old to start a new career.” “I should have dressed more casually to suit the office.” “I forgot to mention that LinkedIn connection which was a great personal connection.” Tracy! Breathe. Here’s the story: I had a job interview and I didn’t get the job. Done.

Lots of other stuff happened this week too, and I told myself a bunch more stories, and got a little more crazy each time, and then- with all the reading I’ve been doing lately- Thich Naht Hanh, Lao-Tse, Martha Beck and Tosha Silver- something clicked!

And that whole concept of detachment, of not taking things personally, started to make sense.  Somehow I was able to step back and see how I was making myself feel bad by telling myself all these (mostly) negative stories.  

I believe that the life we are living is an example of the stories we are telling ourselves, deliberately or unconsciously: I’m fat/thin. I’ve got great/scraggly hair. People like/hate me. I have (no) money. Whatever.  We live the life we feel. If we feel abundance, then we have enough. If we feel attractive, we radiate confidence and people respond to that. Conversely, if we feel like a failure, then nothing we do seems good enough. How many self-help gurus and spiritual leaders are out there saying, “Think Positive”? All of them!

I don’t expect I’ll be able to think positive all the time. Sometimes tuff happens- icky, annoying stuff- but I can remember to step back and look at it for what it is. I can stop making up icky annoying stories. I can stop trying to imagine why so-and-so did what they did, that it was all about me, that I am an icky, annoying person, blah blah blah. Maybe I can tell myself more positive stories, or maybe, I can just let it be. I can just look at it and go, “Yup, there it is, stuff that happened.” And then I can remember to love myself while I get on with my day.