We are our stories. We carve them in stone, we repeat them in our minds like a mantra, they become the fortress that is the "truth" of our life. We allow others to see us through the prism of our stories, told and repeated over decades. Indeed, this prism is the lens through which we see and understand ourselves. These stories, carefully packaged and ever ready to display, are borne throughout our existence. Yet in spite of new experiences offering us a depth and subtle shading to our perspective, our stories often remain frozen in the moment they were honed. Our understanding of the world is formed and reformed, but rarely do these self-defining stories change in the face of new experiences, new information.
The whole purpose of storytelling -- whether on a date, around the table with friends, or over the phone staying in touch with family -- is to help others understand how we think of ourselves and our place in this universe. Most of us have a catalog of stories that we go to for a given situation. These stories are the ones carved in stone. They reveal everything about us: where we're stuck, how we've evolved, our biases and desires. The epic stories we tell repeatedly: that Bad Relationship, the Unfair Divorce, that Life Changing Car Accident, of Graduating From College, or Why I Don't Talk to (fill in the blank) Anymore, are just stories frozen in time. Rarely do we bring them forward to examine in the light of new awareness, new perspectives, or evolved consciousness.
The downside of never reexamining the stories through a lens of hard-earned insights is that we remain forever in that fortress constructed from lower conscious beliefs. This realignment is a step beyond the exercise of recognizing the gift or lesson of a particular situation, or "seeing the pony," as one friend describes it. By tearing apart and rewriting a story that supports your awareness in this moment changes the way that you present yourself to yourself and, by extension, to the world. As we become aware of new ways of thinking (apropos of Maya Angelou's maxim, "When you know better, do better"), part of doing better is re-understanding our life stories with that new knowing.
In a recent conversation with a friend, an authentic and curious woman who firmly walks the path of awareness and higher consciousness, she told me a story about why she didn't get into Stanford and went to a UC school instead which, in her mind, was a tragedy. Her story described uninvolved parents, a (private) school advisor who unfairly wrote a mediocre recommendation letter, as well as a series of other unfortunate events that were supposedly out of her control. As we talked about the circumstances around her story called "Not Getting Into Stanford," which I had heard on several occasions, I asked questions with genuine curiosity. Her story telling was so completely at odds with her current state of consciousness, of taking full responsibility for her actions, that I was confused by it. When reminded of the principles that guide her day-to-day life, this carved-in-stone tale began to crumble. There was some resistance, some victim consciousness arose, but as she used her evolved awareness of how the universe works, she slowly began seeing and describing the event quite differently. Not only did the story change, she realized that where she went to school had been the best possible place for her. By releasing outdated versions of how she described her life, she allowed a forward momentum to take over and move her closer to her best self. She even reached out to the advisor on whom she had bestowed so much unfair angst over the years and apologized.
For many of us who have been on this planet for more than five decades, we have had ample opportunity for our consciousness to expand. Every experience we've had, and will have, is an opportunity to see the world, not through the blinders of ego and victimhood, but through a lens of empowerment and self-awareness. The stories you perpetually tell can either keep you frozen in place, in spite of hard work expanding your consciousness, or they can be re-written and re-understood in the light of awareness. It often is the missing stepstone that someone else needs as well.
The next time you are in meditation or quiet reflection, find one of those carved-in-stone stories. Think about what you know now that your younger self could not understand, what new information you can bring to that story to release it from the past and pull it into the now. This may be uncomfortable and sometimes painful because we are examining dissonance. If discomfort arises, use your breath to move through the physical and emotional sensations. See the feelings as you would thoughts during meditation. As they come into your awareness, recognize and then release them. As the release happens, see what thoughts appear that rewrite the story knowing that the only person that ever needs to hear the revised story is you.
It is often helpful after this exercise to journal the experience. Writing is the best way to make changes in your thinking and incorporate your new understanding of a past event.
