Who would you be without your story?
Hello Dear Ones!
Something has been on my mind and in my heart of late that I wanted, and needed, to get down in print.
The past several days I have been contemplating two issues:
1. Who am I without my stories?
2. Who I am without my stories.
Interesting, isn’t it, that a simple change to the placement of one single word results in converting a question into a statement.
The first, as question, is a seeking. The second, as statement, is a finding.
Let me explain:
It was only today that I saw Byron Katie’s famous quote flowing through my Twitter stream. The past several days I have been contemplating this very aspect of my beingness. So seeing this quote now was a lovely synchronicity. It prompted me strongly enough to do a blog about this very issue in my life.
Being an observer of life, and my role in its unfolding, has had me listening to the stories I tell as I move through my day: with my hubbie as we chat about this and that; with friends when we get together; in my head as I walk to work; with coworkers as we interact daily; with customers as they ask my counsel on perceived health care issues; with extended family when we connect via text, email or by phone; even my Twitter presence has its own influence on the stories I choose to share. It is quite fascinating for me to realize that each scenario has me responding in different ways. I am always telling stories. I’m good at it. I am, after all, a writer by passion. Yet this week’s observations had me realizing there are as many different aspects of me as there are varying influences around me.
So… what happens if I remove the stories I tell myself and others? Who is the me beneath it all? Who am I at my core? Without the stories, what do I have to talk about? And with whom do I share those aspects of myself? When I peeled away the stories … I found that I had, well, I had nothing to share. GULP…
Scary. I couldn’t leave myself empty of value. Though I felt I had nothing to share story-wise, what DID I have to share? That was the question I was asking: Who am I without my stories?
That’s when the statement came to the forefront. I needed to know who I was without my stories. What made me, me?
And much to my own surprise this is what arose for me after a brief mediation of glorious deep breathing.
This is who I am without my stories:
I am my smile. The sweet curve of a smile is the gentlest path to the heart. It is safe to be with me.
I am eye contact. I see you and am willing to be seen by you.
I am my ears. You are truly being heard.
I am the brief touch of my hand to your forearm, your shoulder. You are supported.
I am a hug. You are cared for. You are loved.
I am an open heart. I am willing to be vulnerable with you.
These are the things I am at my core. I like what I have found here within me today.
In the days and weeks ahead I trust I shall find ways to communicate these qualities in my daily life and with people who also value these aspects of life and living. I do not know where any of this may lead. In the moment I do not need to know. I have asked the question. I have received my answer. Though I started with a story here, I am closing this post by sharing me … at my core.
Bless you for being one who also has an open heart and who is, or just may be, willing to be vulnerable with me.
In Light and Laughter,
Note: I would be honoured if you would comment on what you have read here today.