Your Story

Storytelling is a timeless art. A well told story can make us laugh, cry, empathize, remember, and imagine. It can move us to feeling sorrow, anger, regret, comfort, joy, courageous, and inspired. Whether reading, listening, or watching, stories evoke emotion and we love experiencing life through the stories of others.

While there are great lessons and confirmation of our humanity in stories, we have to be careful not to minimize ourselves because of what we witness in others. We have been conditioned to expect and even prefer a formulaic narrative—a character is living a "normal" life, something tragic happens, the character deals with the tragedy, and boom, happily ever after. In addition to this being simplistic and unrealistic, the biggest problem is that we seek relativity in stories so if our lives don't fit that narrative then we conclude that we're a failure or we're tremendously and permanently defective.

Each of us has a story, one that is ongoing and cannot be neatly wrapped up in a 250-page novel or 90-minute film. If we had the ability to stitch together all of our personal tragedies it would exceed the time it takes to read a novel. Likewise, our greatest moments can't be limited to 90 minutes. If just one aspect of our lives cannot be contained in the time it takes to read a novel or watch a movie how can we expect our entire existence, with all of its challenges, complications, and peak moments to be resolved and fit into a storybook, Hollywood formula? It can't and we wouldn't want it to.

You will experience many threads of stories in your lifetime. Some will be resolved quickly, others could evolve into your life's mission. In the same chapter you could experience high highs and heartbreaking lows. The good news is that you have the power and responsibility to create your own narrative, one that isn't based on a formula or expectation. Actively live the storyline that will bring you the most joy, peace, truth, and love. You will live out much more life than the time it takes to read or watch the stories of others so don't compare the entirety of your story to a snippet of someone else's. The only true tragedy would be for you not to recognize the beauty and power that you and your story contain.

Not That Special

One of the hardest lessons we learn comes at the hands of others, but we serve as accomplices. It doesn't matter how young we are when that lesson first arrives or how many times it repeats, we are still surprised and hurt when it comes around again, as if history hadn't already whispered, tapped us, then shouted, shoved, and finally thrown a brick at us prior. We promise we will never allow it again...until someone else comes along and we consider ourselves much more special (and less rational) than we should.

Maya Angelou said, "When people show you who they are, believe them." That phrase is both simple and profound. I've used it to validate my choices, evaluate relationships, and protect myself. Yet my validating, evaluating, and protecting self still wanted to be more—more unique, more deserving, and quite frankly, more special than the truth. I believed that someone wouldn't treat me the same way that s/he treats everyone else because our relationship, i.e., me, was special. I thought I was special enough to have a more genuine and loving version of someone who may not have even cared to be more genuine or more loving.

If someone is unkind to others, the day will come when she is unkind to you. If someone is careless with other people's feelings, he will have moments when he is careless with yours. The person who gossips, exaggerates, is inconsiderate, disappoints, lies on, ignores, or is selfish with others doesn't do so because everyone, except you, deserves it. When you hear that first whisper, listen. When you feel that gentle tap, take heed. Don't wait for the shout or the shove—and certainly not the brick—to believe people when they show you who they are.

Examined Life

I believe in the transformative power of education. There are benefits to learning formulas, systems, history, literary devices, and methodology. It is amazing to analyze, experiment, and stretch intellectually. Yet the most influential aspect of my educational career had little to do with the classroom. My education evolved the moment I realized that I could examine every area of my life with even more focus than I ever did for any grade or course. From that point on I committed to living an examined life.

My maternal great-grandfather was the pastor of a church. I spent many Sunday mornings and afternoons in that red brick building with the squeaky, wooden pews. In addition to my mother's side of the family being active, my father's side were members of the same church so the ritual of service was as much religious practice as familial obligation. I learned lessons of love, forgiveness, and faith all while spending time with my family. So much of what I heard Sunday after Sunday was ritualized to the point that as children we recited it for laughs. I memorized as many scriptures as my time tables and trusted everything I heard without question, even when it was harmful to my well-being.

There was something nagging in my gut that would not allow me to simply accept everything I heard, read, and experienced. My journey toward authenticity demanded more of me. I stepped outside of the shadow of obligation and blind belief and stepped into the freedom of exploration. It wasn't until I gave myself permission to inquire that my true education and road to spirituality opened up. I had to first release the notion that questions were symptoms of unbelief and betrayal. It wasn't until I asked questions and sought answers that I truly learned.

If you've been taught to accept the least of what you've been offered, teach yourself new lessons. If you've been presented with a path that doesn't resonate with your soul, pursue a new path. If your notions of forgiveness, progression, or health conflict with what you need to forgive, progress, and heal, explore new notions. If you have been afraid to question faith, investigate the source of that fear. Position yourself to learn the most influential lessons by examining every area of your life without being fearful of what you may discover. Challenge yourself to live an examined life.

Lens of Truth

I am a reformed liar and there was a time when I wouldn't have even been honest about that. I portrayed more than I lived because pretending seemed less complicated, less painful, and less frightening. When flashes of reality snuck past the surface I ran back to the perceived safety of the closet containing all of my secrets and slammed the door. I told myself that the lying I did was acceptable—yet another lie—because I wasn't hurting anyone. Yet that was the most detrimental untruth because I was hurting myself.

There is something extremely terrifying about honesty. It's the reason so many clichés, expressions, songs, poems, books, shows, and films are centered around the truth—hiding it or finding out about it. Most of us have convinced ourselves or have been persuaded by others that certain areas of our lives are better concealed or easier to deal with if we don't actually deal. The problem is that we can never grow into our fullest selves without first being aware of who we are. We can never reach where we're going if we aren't first honest about where we've been. We can never heal if we don't acknowledge that we hurt.

The closet containing my secrets, where I perceived safety because it didn't require me to expose my hurt, was harmful. It felt comfortable, but it was stifling and suffocating. It was only through the lens of truth that I could acknowledge the negative impact of hiding my pain and open the door. It was only through the lens of truth that I could see the dark cloud of dishonesty choking the life out of me. It was only through the lens of truth that I could bear to be brave enough to fully live. It was only through the lens of truth that I could tell my story and trust that I would survive telling it as I continue to survive living with it.

Uncertainty

Uncertainty can be frightening and at times, debilitating. Wanting direction and not having a clear answer is frustrating. It can make us question every previous decision, whether connected to current circumstances or not. It can lead us to believe that we can't trust our judgment. Yet it is during times of uncertainty that we need to exercise trust the most. Uncertainty ushers in the change that we need, but have been too comfortable, too complacent or too afraid to do on our own.

While unnerving, the uncertain times in our lives often lead us to greater. Eventually, we become open because we reach the end of needing to control and we surrender. It is in surrendering that we acknowledge that despite all of our plotting and planning, we do not have it all figured out so we might as well... Might as well what? Go for it. Try something different. Throw our hat in the ring. Take a risk. Fully live.

When we surrender we stop trying to protect and prevent ourselves from being greater. We transition from making excuses about why we cannot go, do, or become and we start to comprehend the magnitude of possibility. Imagine what our lives would be like if we reached this place of openness and surrender earlier instead of waiting until we are completely frustrated and at the end our understanding.

Some of your best decisions were made after you surrendered. Some of your greatest payoffs occurred when you were so unsure of your future that you threw caution to the wind and acted out of excitement instead of fear. Instead of viewing uncertainty as terrifying, learn to accept it as an opportunity to live life with your arms wide open and in a constant state of willingness and courage—willingness to try the improbable and courage to simply say yes. Instead of allowing the fear of uncertainty to grip you, attach yourself to the adventure and enjoy the ride!

Live in Real Life

After a particularly unsettling few weeks I scheduled an appointment for a massage. I ventured out on a frigid Saturday when I could have easily stayed bundled up on my couch or swinging from my hammock so a professional could work out the two knots in my back and the knots of worry taking up residence in my mind. As I shed myself of the layers of clothing that February in Michigan demands, I slid my cell phone into the pocket of my plush robe.

I walked over to the relaxation lounge, took a few sips of refreshingly cold water, and sat down. As I waited for the masseuse, I pulled out my phone to virtually check in to the salon. Before I could type anything I thought about the ridiculousness of the scene. I came to the spa to relax, to free myself and there I was, being captive to a small electronic device. It wasn't necessary for me to check in via my phone, I needed to check in by being present, in that moment. I slid my phone back in my pocket and took another sip of water. This time I noticed that the water had a faint strawberry flavor, something that hadn't previously registered because I was too busy fiddling with my phone.

I am the first to admit that I love the benefits offered by technology. I love that in seconds I can let someone know I am thinking of him/her by sending a quick text message. It is wonderful that I can snap a photo of an amazing sunset, beach scene, humorous sign, or fabulous meal and share it instantly. It is reassuring to know that if I need to call someone instantly I can. However, convenience has turned into unhealthy dependence.

Many times we are unable to disconnect, even if it's for limited amounts of time and this causes us to miss what is taking place right in front of our faces. We aren't fully receptive to the sights, sounds, smells, feelings, and tastes we could experience firsthand. We aren't fully engaged with those who are in our presence. We are so busy checking in via our phones that we have checked out of living. The same devices that were intended to help us increase contact and be more social have led us to be less personal and superficially social. We have become so fearful of missing something that we are missing everything.

Experience your life in real life. Fully engage in the presence of others. Appreciate the sensations of your senses as you go through your day. Imagine actually being social instead of feigning it through social media! Life is meant to be lived out loud and in full color, not muted through a screen.

A Moment

Birds are distinguishable to most by their ability to fly. When we see a feathered and beaked animal walking in the grass or swimming on a pond, it never crosses our minds that because it isn't flying at the time it isn't a bird. We accept that its behavior at any given moment does not change what it is. Unfortunately, we don't give ourselves the same courtesy. Instead, we convince ourselves that we are somehow less than because of an assessment made at a moment in time, a moment purposefully chosen to confirm what we believe.

We have certain characteristics that we accept as our own. For example, we may identify with being strong, kind, intelligent, and creative. Yet there are moments when we feel less than strong, unworthy of being considered kind, far from intelligent, and uninspired. Situations can temporarily deplete us so we have bouts with emotions that leave us to question if we are truly made up of the characteristics that we've attached ourselves to or have accepted. However, feeling anything temporarily—sadness, impatience, dependence, etc.—does not equate to permanence. Who are you is determined by more than your feelings and actions at a random moment in time, especially when the moment you have selected to assess yourself is one where you feel furthest from your center.

A moment of weakness does not make you weak. A creativity block does not make you unimaginative. A crack in your armor does not make you less of a fighter. Your feelings and how you express them at any given moment does not change who you are. Your thoughts and actions at any given moment do not change who you are. Even when you feel needy, cranky, selfish, whiny, or weak, you are made up of more. All moments, your best, your worst, and your everyday make you intricate and complex, always beautiful, always growing, and always evolving.