This is My Story

“We cannot wish old feelings away nor do spiritual exercises for overcoming them until we have woven a healing story that
transforms our previous life’s experience and gives meaning to whatever pain we have endured.”

Joe Borysenko

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When was the first story ever told? We do not know. We do know that storytelling has been an intrinsic part of every society and culture.
Before we could write, we told stories. Stories shape our world. Stories are everywhere: in songs, books, news, religions, art – wherever we look we are being told a story. Stories resonate, we remember stories. Most historians and psychologists would assert that it is storytelling that defines and binds our common humanity.

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The stories that we are told or tell ourselves dramatically shape our world. Both sets of my grandparents were wonderful storytellers. My Oma, from my father’s side, would recall memories of what it was like to live in East Prussia. She would paint pictures with her words of lush forests, mushroom picking, and the giant lake of Lyck (now Elk) that was synonymous with ‘home’. My Oma, on my mother’s side, would
reminisce about what it was like to be one of nine children, the tragic loss of her brother in WWI, and describe the lives of everyday people of Northern Germany. Their stories defined them, how they lived and their interaction with the world. Their stories impacted my life. So, in a sense, I tell my own story, but the stories of my ancestors live on through me.

There are some stories we live by that need desperate revision. We may find that there are a few life experiences that remain attached to the recording device in our head. Our perspective of those experiences, or the words directed at us through those seasons, will determine how we view ourselves and how we relate to others. David Denborough writes, “Who we are and what we do are influenced by the stories that we tell ourselves  herold-letters-436502_1920e are many different events in our lives, but only some of them get formed into the storylines of our
identities. Whatever storyline we have about our lives makes a
difference in who we are and how we act.
  There are some narratives that need revising in our lives because they paralyse us or affect us in a profoundly negative way. It is time to take back those false memoirs and say: “No, that is not true, but this is my story.”  Perhaps it is time to give yourself permission to rewrite those toxic lines into a healing
autobiography?

Stories are one of the things that make us human. They help explain the world and make sense of what, at times, seems nonsense. For people who are grieving, stories provide a way of coping with loss and assists in healing. Telling one’s story has proved to have significant health benefits as it contributes to creating a sense of meaning and belonging, because we feel both seen and heard. One of the greatest gifts we can give each other is to listen. Listening is the gift of kindness. It is a modern tragedy that we have so many elderly folk now sitting in isolated care homes, with a rich tapestry of life and adventures, with no one willing to listen to their story.

So maybe it’s time, dear friend, to take a pen, or your computer or iPad, and begin to write your stories down. Live them as you write them.
Describe them in intricacies and with a sense of wonder. Reflect on them as you read and re-read your story. What does your story tell you? How do the whispers of the past beckon you to consider your ways today?
Remember, this alone is your story and your story matters, because,
after all, no other human being will see things, dream things or
experience things just the same as you. This is your story – it is time to remember.

“Don’t let anyone tell your story. Pick up a pen and write your own.”
– Majid Kasmi

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