July
27, 2020
Greetings
from the storyteller,
How do you feel about your life in these strange days? All of these adjustments and accommodations. Staying home, washing hands, wearing masks,
doing Zoom meetings, sacrificing, and delaying gratification for some grander
purpose. Well, and maybe for own purpose
too. The truth is, how we feel about any
of this is no different than how we chose to feel about the days before, and
the days to come.
We live our lives, and we create stories to tell ourselves as to how
it is. We have our day, recount it as we
undress to go to bed, and find solace, or discontent, or some other thing. Lay on the pillow and sift through the images
and cringe or smile or simply dive quickly into dreams to create some other
day.
This is how we feel about our selves, our life, but it is only a part
of it. If we are honest, the rest of how
we feel is when we hold our story up to compare to everyone else’s story. Other stories come to us, and we ask which
color is brighter, who has the richer experience, the deeper love? Who had it better, or handled it better, or
got lucky? Was it fair?
You say: I spent a lovely day in the yard. Thought it might rain and it didn’t, so I had
time to trim the hedge and work in the garden.
It felt good to have my hands in the dirt, the sun on my back. And we cooked that steak I got on sale and it
really wasn’t bad. I would liked to have
had the neighbors over, but it was fun talking to them at the driveway and we
promised to do something soon.
Or you say: Another day wasted on yardwork, nice sunny day made for
the beach. Must be nice to have a
service come once a week like some people.
I shouldn’t have planted so much garden it just sucks up my free time
and half of it goes to the rabbits. I
don’t know what the neighbors are thinking, having all those people over for a
party. And not everyone was wearing a mask.
Tsk. I’d love to go to a restaurant
instead of eating frozen steaks. When
will this be over?
I don’t mean to oversimplify our lives, but the example helps me to
check my own story. Almost everyone is
living with some version of change right now, and I want to make the best of it. But, if I’m honest, some days I paint a less
than encouraging scene of my life. Some
of it is the grind, the isolation, and some of it is spending a minute too long
comparing my tale to the impression I get from others.
We have our own quiver of stories.
We accumulate them, weave them with others, sort out some and save
some. Some we can tell, and do. Some are only for the dim moments alone, when
we take them out and imagine the world knowing.
And either smile or wince.
The stories of other’s lives come to us and we shape a perspective
about our own existence. When someone is
doing well, does envy form, or inspiration?
When someone is struggling, do we feel empathy or judgment, or gratitude
for having been spared that burden? Or
is it just scorekeeping?
We are the narrator of our lives, pointing to pains and disappointments,
or outlining the wonders and beauty we have experienced. I don’t want to live in a naïve, Pollyanna existence,
but I also think I am made for more than just cataloging my struggles.
I wasn’t going to share this, because not everything is about running
for me, but it made sense in my head so here: When I run a marathon I have a running
dialogue in my head. It is me telling myself
the story I am in. It is a description
of how I feel, mentally and physically.
I also look at how others are doing but that is not my story. It is like being at a Twin Drive In, where I
am watching my movie, but I am aware of the one playing on the other screen. That show is not driving the plot I’m
involved in.
I can hold this conversation as I run, this narration of the
experience, and it shapes how the next mile goes, and the next, and how I feel
when the race is over. I am conscious of
it even as I create it, and I am aware that the words I choose to tell the
story will matter. I am telling myself
the story I am in, and I get to choose if I am a hero.
The stories around me matter. I
am curious, I want to know how they arrived at this place, I want them to
enjoy, to feel satisfied, in some cases, to not give up. I am driven to reach for more because of
them, I am given the chance to see more possibilities. I can ask more of myself because those around
me are doing it. It’s possible because
that’s the story I tell as I run.
But, in some races, thankfully not many, I begin practicing the story
I’ll tell people later that will explain my slow time, or failure. It is the heat or the shoes or cramps or the
hilly course or my poor training. It is these moments when people pass me and I
think, “How can that guy be faster than me?”
Not my proudest experiences, but it happens. What I learned is that when this narration
begins, it can spoil any chance I have to change for the better. I ruin my run in advance with this voice-over.
It is a lesson I am lucky to carry with me off the road into my life. That’s really how I got here this morning. What story am I telling about my life this
morning, and how will that shape the rest of my day? Am I going to tell this, or will I let someone
else give me their story?
It is a different time, we can’t always say everything we want to the people
we are separated from, we can’t include them in our story. Things are taken away, or harder, or just
different. I know, I know. But it’s still our story to tell. I’m writing this for me and for you. Choose the narrator, choose the one you
want. Tell the story that gives you the
rich, satisfying day. You are your own happy
ending.
Hope
this finds you creating your voice,
David
Copyright
© 2020 David Smith
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