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When we think about it (and I try hard not to): Everything we do is because someone, somewhere thought it was a good idea. And told a good enough story to someone else to have them buy in. And then to another person and then another person. Soon that other person is us and we think it’s a good idea. Soon those who bought in – including us – are all telling the same story. Then we get more people on board. And the original story teller may not have to work as hard anymore as they have others telling the story for them. This is what our lives are built on. This is what the “pros” in the sales and online world are selling – story telling and getting it to be so compelling that others tell your story (and therefore help market your brand.) This is not just what the internet is built on. It is what fuels our societies, our traditions, our cultures, our beliefs and our expectations, EVERYTHING. That’s what we do as humans. Make up stores about our actions, good or bad, justifying our choices. Justifying what we want in this world. I’ve made myself a good story. A good reason for not doing something. I had no intention of taking off from writing and sharing in August. But I did. I could and will briefly tell you the story of how it worked for me. How actually (instead of writing) I spent August connecting one on one with over 20 people in person or Zoom. I can say that I needed space for that – I did. I can say it helped to restore and refresh me – it did. I can say it left me ready to dig in and write again – also true. I can lie to myself. I can also hold myself accountable. I can also flagellate myself for no reason (one of my most curated skills.) For this story though, I don’t have an ending. And I don’t want to make one. The facts are: I wasn’t consistent, I didn’t show up. I spent my time with others instead of writing. Okay. And SO WHAT? Maybe not everything needs a spin, an insight or a lesson. What if it just happened, what if things just happened, stopped and started, no explanation or acknowledgement? Could we live without story? With the lesson, the closure, the neat little ending? We know life doesn’t always give us that – why are we forcing it? How many stories around us drive us to do things, believe things and parrot things that we know that we don’t like or agree with deep down? What would it be like without those stories. What if moments of our lives are just moments? Nothing to get out of them but living in and for those moments as they are. What would that be like? October Listening Exercise Do you find yourself wanting to make everything into a story? Wrap it up in a neat little package? Justify the time and effort for those moments? What does it feel like to imagine NOT doing that? Just letting moments be moments? Scary, exciting, relieving? Are there places you are telling stories that you don’t even want to? Do you notice when you do it? Could you maybe notice when you do it?
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