Speaking of Stories…
July 29, 2009
I am in the midst of a moment that has me confronting a story I have been trying to release for a while, and I am choosing to write about it right now to talk about this process from an entirely different angle than I did yesterday. It is one thing to write a post like yesterday's where the sun was shining in my heart and there was nothing challenging my intention to release certain stories, quite another to stand by that intention when emotional triggers have been set off and the stories flood my brain uninvited. This is a cycle I have gone through repeatedly with a certain story, and each time it happens I get more and more agitated that the trigger is just as strong as it was the first day – maybe even stronger. I feel like I am somehow failing, that if I decided to let go of the story and was able to embrace that intention yesterday (or last week or whenever), then why is it here again, causing tears to pour out of me on an otherwise spectacular day? I get angry at myself for continuing to have emotional reactions that I don't feel like I can control, and fearful that these triggers are going to eventually do irreparable damage – that in the end, all this talk of letting go of this and embracing that will have amounted to nothing, because when it really mattered, I wasn't up to the challenge.
But this is one of those moments when I still have a choice, and that I need to recognize – with the help of a very wise friend who happens to be visiting this week – certain emotional triggers and reactions do not negate the truth of my having let go of this story. I choose not to hold on to this story in my day to day life, but under certain circumstances, the emotions at the core of that story might spew forth, but that doesn't mean it still has a hold on me.
There are certain stories that will never make sense to me, that I do not understand, cannot control and am helpless to change. The only story I can control is the one that describes my response to those experiences, and even then it is imperative I let it be OK that I am human, and as such there are sticky, thorny emotions pulsing through my veins that need to be released and heard. I can let the emotions spill forth and still release the story. I can acknowledge the feelings I'm having and still have a rational understanding of why I'm reacting the way I'm reacting. I can observe the triggers I'm having – see them, feel them, let them flow through me – and it will still be true that these stories do not define me. All of these things can be true together, in the fact of my humanity and in my determination to move through these emotions and experiences with mindfulness.
So today, I shed a few tears, talked things through with a friend, and took one more step along the journey of staying true to my intention to shed this story from my sense of identity. And none of this was especially dramatic or done with great fanfare. It played itself out quietly, in the space of small amount of time. But that is how it is done – this journey to my most centered self, to my essence, to the joy within me – in small steps, with stillness.
When things bug me, even though I think I’ve let them go, I’m thinking, maybe I’m not done with them yet. Maybe there’s something I still need to learn. I’m also learning and believing that sad passes, as does joy. I’m learning to let them sweep through me but not let them drag me under. It’s slow, painfully slow.
Your last sentence, that’s what I’m working on as well. Take care.
First, how can you fail at being you? Whatever is happening is exactly what should be happening, that even applies to tears. Second, maybe love is the answer. Maybe the answer is to love this powerful story when it rears its ugly head; maybe for no other reason than for its part in shaping you into the AMAZING human being that you are. Whatever stories have formed you, the good, the bad, the mundane, have allowed you to reach and inspire all of us way out here. That is truly something. You will probably never know how much or how many lives you have affected by being exactly who you are! A good book you might like….Loving What Is by Byron Katie.
Tonight I had a very upsetting phone conversation with a close friend that left me me in tears and anger. Then I came here and read this. And even though you are referring to a very different kind of situation, your words stirred something within me. And they caused me to send my friend an apology, they caused me to let my heart speak (reluctantly so, because I still felt upset over what she had said), and I am so glad I did. It turns out that we wrote to each other at the same time, putting our friendship ahead of all else, and then feeling so relieved that at the end of the day our hearts guided us in the right direction. Being a human being feels so messy at times and maybe that’s all we need to do to be authentic: accept the messiness and keep on trying. Hugs, Kxo
i admire and appreciate how you are processing these stories in your life and although acknowledging them – allowing them to flow through you. it isn’t easy being human – connecting, feeling deeply, holding on, letting go – but it is comforting to know we share similarities in how we approach our stories…and i believe what you said was key – ‘our stories do not define us’. take good care. warmly, s
Thanks for sharing your geniune self and your truth.
i love you.
It’s a freeing thing to find yourself and be with who your really are! Thanks for sharing you!
It’s funny how these stories appear at odd moments, reminding us of things we thought we’d dealt with and set aside. Two days ago I was washing dishes and heard a Sara Bareilles song, “Between the lines,” and suddenly I burst into tears, remembering something painful from my past. I think it’s only by telling our stories that we learn to let go of them. It doesn’t mean that we won’t remember them from time to time, but at least we won’t be haunted by them. And by confronting the residue of emotion, we move forward to embrace our present and our future. I think you are doing an amazing job with your writing; you are a true artist, in every sense of the word, Christine. xo
the words integration and disintegration keep coming up for me. all the stories, the pieces, they integrate into the fabric of who we are–triggered emotions and all. and, yet, when we tell the stories, we free them to disintegrate into the atmosphere. they become only vapors. there’s a little residue, but, like you said, that can be washed away with a few tears and the witness of a good friend.
you amaze me.
I can always relate when you write of allowing yourself to be human. If we didn’t have a little dark detail on our sparkle, it would be too perfect, unreal, fake. I have come to prefer real, if only in hindsight at times. I do wish it were more comfortable, but I suppose growth doesn’t occur out of comfort.
Here’s to your growth, sister. Love you. Your stories are meaningful!