Lisa Sugarman’s podcast has me thinking about the stories we tell ourselves. How much is real? How much is imagined? How much is a snapshot in time, of a hurt or a grievance, that moves forward with us, often to our detriment?
One of the most impactful stories about identity is Inheritance by Dani Shapiro. In her fifties, she discovers that her beloved father, a devout Jew, was not really her father. That her heritage was a made-up story to cover for her mother’s artificial insemination, a story not allowed by the mores of the times. The truth of that story-her story- profoundly changed everything. What was true? Who was she really? How does one reconcile one’s love for a father that was real, but based on a lie?
We all have stories, big and small, that we carry. Sometimes they are comforting. Sometimes not. Many are just someone else’s projection meant to keep you small. And yet we buy into them….why?
I look at some of my own stories. I’ve always felt not good enough. From childhood to Ivy League schools, to marriage and beyond, I carried that story within me. And it’s taken years to rewrite it.
The stories we carry carry only the weight we give them. What if you could retell your story from different perspectives? Give it a go. Sit down and choose a difficult event from your life. Tell it from the perspective of different emotions: for example from a perspective of love, anger and gratitude. Each perspective shifts the story. There is truth in each element, but it’s not absolute. Doing this, the story starts to lose its power.
It’s a testament to the fact that we do have the power of choice in terms how we define ourselves. And that events and experiences usually are more complex than we initially make them out to be.
We all hit bumps that craft our stories. But we create the tales we tell and it’s easier to believe a story told from just one perspective. It’s simple, neat and usually self justifying. It doesn’t allow for understanding much less forgiveness.
Over time, we have the choice to let our stories evolve and expand. Until, hopefully one day, we tell ourselves a story of awe and grace, one that truly reflects our magnificent selves and the often difficult paths we experience as we each navigate our bumps in the road.