Every movement has a story.
Every nation has a story.
Every community has a story.
Every person has a story.
I believe you were born to tell yours.
People are natural storytellers. We’ve been sitting around fires for forever telling our stories. Humans are meaning-making machines. We connect things together, telling our stories as we see them, even when the gaps between what took place and what we think it all means in the grand ‘ole scheme seems far fetched.
Regardless, our stories are important. They help us identify our place in the world and learn about each other and ourselves. (You’ve probably heard that something like 80% of communication is gossip. If you think about it, what is gossip? Stories! Talking about others with others enables us to figure out what our values are, what we like and don’t like, and who deserves our trust or mistrust.)
Part of being alive is dreaming up a better story for yourself and our collective future. If you’ve been staring in a tragic opera or uninspired by your role, you’ve been telling yourself the wrong story. If you’re one of the “lucky” ones who have it all and “should” be fulfilled but aren’t, perhaps your story needs a rewrite?
There’s enormous power in weaving a new story, rewriting a tired tale. Sometimes we just need a good therapy session to see that we have the power to let go of a story that’s been holding us hostage. Sometimes it’s about penning our story to share with others. I’ve had the honor of writing for bestselling authors, Emmy and Oscar winners, and business leaders. People who know exactly what they want to say, and those who have no idea—little more than an ache in the pit of their belly to get their experiences up and out where they can serve others.
A few things that captivate me about stories:
- We all have them.
- It’s easy to fall into the “I’m better than you” story.
- Nations and religions have stories (some certainly in the “I’m-better-than-you” category).
- Tipping points come from stories. Millions watch The Secret or read A New Earth and all of a sudden our vocabulary changes and the world is different. A defining reason for the fall of the Berlin wall was that Eastern Europeans started getting VCRs and watching movies. Western movies. Why don’t we have grocery stores filled with abundance? Why don’t we have carefree lives? Why can’t we vote? As they began learning the narratives of the West, they wanted to star in the same stories. When Regan challenged Gorbachev to “Tear down this wall,” he created a new narrative for people to believe in. An American President effectively rewrote the story of an entire country, Russia.
- Stories harm or heal. The stories you tell yourself give your life meaning. Or not. You have your childhood story. Your career story. Your love story. Your old-age story. Your stories inspire you to move forward, or hold you in place. One thing I’m certain of is that you can be broke, living in one room, and eating nothing but beans and chips, but if your story inspires you, your mission juices you, you will be happy. If you have everything and still obsess on the mess of the world, I have a theory: your story underwhelms you. Your mission lacks serious meaning. You’ve lost your mojo. Perhaps you did what “they” said to do, but “they” were wrong. For you.
- If you’re not careful, your story can be so “good” that you’d rather live in the story than in real life.
My “story” with my ex was the stuff of movie scripts. The synchronicities of how we met and married were cinematic. We were on a network game show a million years ago called Sweethearts, where Charles Nelson Riley and a celebrity panel of guests didn’t believe our story and gave us a bunch of money for fooling them. Our shared story—that started in the produce section of Whole Foods (literally feeding our obsession for organic produce)—was a big reason we stayed married. Our story shaped our beliefs and values as much as our beliefs and values shaped our story. For years we thought we were “destined” because of the magic of our story, when in reality, our values were a mismatch. It sounds funny to say this now, but I think we may have been more married to our story than to each other.
If you’re on a “spiritual path” (who isn’t, right?), you might think your story will lead to your salvation. In that case, it sucks to wake up one day and realize that you haven’t got a clue about where you’re headed or where you long to go.
What amazes me about coaching writers is that they all have a story to tell (usually many), and yet often have rampant fears about telling them, no matter their talent. If I have any advice on this, I’d say:
- Honor your story, while staying grounded in reality.
- Know that your stories will change. Like feelings, they come and go, and that’s okay. Most writers have completed manuscripts in a drawer or closet somewhere they will never shop. I have three. Those past musings “needed” to get down on the page once, but don’t necessarily need to see the light of day. There’s no wasted time working on your craft.
- Have fun with your stories. Even the painful ones. Get them down. Sort them out. Clear your head. Give them time to breathe and cook, and then see what’s true for you now. If telling the story is between you and your God, or only for your family, be proud you did it. You gave it its due! Now let it go. Maybe something else will whisper in your ear, asking to be written. Sometimes freedom comes in relinquishing our expectations and surrendering to the not knowing.
- Trust that you’ll know which stories to put out there. When you do choose to share a story with the world, put a plan in place to make it happen so that you honor your time, energy, and your story.
I am always deeply moved by our heartfelt, courageous Carmel storytellers, and this March’s Writing Retreat group was no exception. (Click here for video testimonials of our time together.) These beautiful women remind me daily that I never want to stop learning, growing, or sharing the narrative. Amen.
Yours,
Linda
xx
