Once upon a time when I was young, if a kid told a made-up story, it was either considered a fib or perhaps a significant lie. There were consequences for this, all the way from spending time alone in our rooms or maybe being shamed by an adult, and it looks like we are still telling stories, and there are still consequences. Only we are grown ups now and the consequences are very different. They are often self imposed and the results of what we have been saying. Often we speak of brokenness and unhealed places in the mind that continue to bleed.
Captives of a story..
We all have memories…no question about that, but memories are different than stories. Memories let us know we have a past; stories define the past, and they act as a foundation from which we refer. Author, Daniel Quinn, said that “we are all captives of a story.” Well…maybe. We may see ourselves according to the stories we may tell ourselves and others, but they are not all forms of hostage taking.
Invisible black bag...
Stories become a problem when we can’t step out of them, when no matter what we attempt to do, we drag the stories along with us in Robert Bly’s invisible black bag slung over our shoulders. I remember an old friend who would laughingly say, “That’s my story, and I’m stuck with it” whenever she was delving into a long memory. What she did not realize was that she was cementing a path into place that she could never leave, and in all the time I knew her, she never did.
A clear touch...
When we understand what we are doing to ourselves when story time comes up, that’s one thing. A clear touch can help us recognize an old refrain and maybe begin to write a new song. But if we tell the stories so often that we do not even notice we’re doing so, that’s quite another. We are in danger of forgetting who we really are and becoming the story we tell about ourselves.
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