The Mystery of Me
What is your story? What is that little diddy that you keep telling over and over to others? The one bit that draws people in, gets attention and turns heads?
We all struggle. We all feel pain. We all celebrate joy and birth. We get bored, tired and lonely. All of it. When I wrap my arms around any one of these, and attach a story to it, I am stuck; stuck in an old story. And I miss who I am in the moment. I like to tell stories over and over again that get me attention. They can be stories of great accomplishment, or stories of great weakness. Again, it is not the accomplishment or the weakness that gets me into trouble. It is my attachment to them, and how they affect my self esteem. I will grasp onto a story that will get me attention, because most of my life, it is attention that has boosted my self esteem. Why? Because I was desperate for it.
A friend recently told me that some of my stories bore her. And then she sat across from me, holding my hands, and told me she loved me for who I was, regardless of my story. The intimacy was palpable in that moment, as we sat looking into each others eyes, tears flowing into hers. It was in that moment I realized, that not only do I hold onto the stories and tell them frequently that make me look like a hero, I also hold onto the ones that make me look weak and in need. When I hold on and define myself by my story, I am not being true to me. I am looking to draw someone in. I am not living from the inside out, but from the outside in. John O'Donohue says many of us are confusing our identities with our biographies. I am more than any story I have to tell. I am more than any emotion I feel. There is a place deep inside of me untouched by all of that. My soul longs to live from that place. The place without the story is unknown territory. We must trust deeply to live from it.
I am getting ready to head back to the Michigan, my hometown, where I have not been for eight years. I plan to visit my father's grave, the homes I grew up in and meet some of my old friends and family. And coincidentally, for the past week, I have been downstairs going through old pictures and letters, keeping a few and am burning the rest. A prayer of love and gratitude sent up to the heavens in smoke. The Love is always there. The letters don't hold it. The photos don't save it. It is always flowing.
I am ready. I am ready to live the question, Who am I without my stories? I live this question by being very conscious of how I connect with people. What are the first words that come out of my mouth when I meet someone new? Those are the meaty ones usually. When have I told a story a second time? What do I do when I feel insecure? Do I go to my breath, or do I try to reel someone in to like me? If I am not doing something "big and grand" do I start telling stories of struggle and weakness to get the attention I am craving? These are the questions I am living with, and there is no finite answer to any one of them. I pray to just live with them. And with each breath, become more and more, the mystery that I am.
Yes to it all, Jenny!
Reply to this
dear dear friend...have I mentioned that I love you deeply? xxoo
Reply to this
Jenny, Good luck on your journey in Michigan. I will be thinking of you!
Reply to this
I love you so much dear one. xxoo
Reply to this
Nice topic, Jenny. I find I tell certain stories over and over. Sometimes it is because I'm trying to connect with someone. They tell a story about grief and I tell a story about grief. Sometimes it is because I'm processing through something. Like when I tell the story of my mother's death I notice my energy at the time and find that I still have some anger over the way she died. You are blessed to have a friend who is that honest with you. Are our stories stuck? That takes some great honest feedback. One time I told a story every morning of a retreat I was on. It was during my morning shower and my room mate heard me every morning. I wasn't even aware I told the same story. She finally told me that she had heard that story all week. I was shocked. But it made me aware of how much that topic bothered me and I took the time to reflect and pray about it. Now I can't even remember what the story was! ha. love you,
Jacque
Reply to this
Really liked this entry.....I am taking to heart...just curious why you are burning photos....do they hold you to the past....just curious.. would love to hear your thoughts on this....this could be really powerful...Love to you....Neeta
Reply to this