We Are the Stories We Tell

I heard on a podcast this week that a person is nothing more, or less, than their ‘story.’ We ARE the stories that we tell. I love the way this idea brings what’s really important into focus. When I tell my story, I don’t talk about my job, my education or my possessions -- those are boring details. I talk about what I think and believe, my hopes and dreams, my sweetheart Walter, my daughter, her husband and pets, my Mom, Aunt and brothers, the history of my family, friends, and people I’ve met, what I’m reading, silly little adventures in my life, and my sweet little dog, Roxy. I recall moments of pleasure and sadness, grandeur and absurdity. I recollect the times I faced enlightenment when the truth was so hard to bear. I laugh out my pain and weaknesses, foibles and failures. I tell these stories because I love to hear others’ stories about the same things. A story given for a story received is a reassuring echo that connects me to the human family. The well told tale celebrates a love of humanity. Of all the clutter that fills my days, stories are the raindrops of joy that guide my little life-boat in the sparkling river of life.