Who would I be without my "story?"

I went to a surprise birthday party the other night and in conversation with a former co-worker asked him what he had been thinking about lately.  To say he was sort of surprised by the question is an understatement.  An explanation was required:  the basic and simple reason I asked is because I want friends who talk about ideas.  Still at a bit of a loss, he turned the question back to me:  asking “What have you been thinking about lately?”

Short answer is that I have been trying to answer the question “Who would I be without my ‘story’?”  It’s one of those Japanese koan types of question – there is no right answer.  (Nor any wrong one for that matter.)  But for me, releasing my story means that I am neither fat nor thin, successful nor unsuccessful, old nor young:  those designations come from accepting judgments or distinctions that society embraces.

Current society probably considers me overweight.  A hundred years ago, my weight might have been seen as a symbol of prosperity – a goal to be envied.  In a society where a Rajah was said to demand that his subjects pay him his weight in gold and jewels, the Rajah might consider me to be woefully thin.  So without my story – without a context to hang it on – I am neither fat nor thin.  I am whatever I decide I am!

The same arguments can be made for age.  My age on my driver’s license is not me, since I am not my driver’s license!  At 60 years old, I might be considered ancient by a child, but barely middle aged by a Hunza elder who is herself 120 years old.  So how old is “old?”  During my day-to-day activities – i.e., when I’m not looking at a mirror – I am 18 or 20 or 30.  That’s not what my outside looks like, but it’s what I look like from inside my eyes looking out.  So am I “old”?  Am I “young”?  Again, I am whatever I decide!

Or maybe I am whatever age “we” decide.  Some people might look at me and think “little old lady,” putting me in a pigeon-hole of their own choosing:  “past it,” “wise woman,” “nuisance.”  Others might choose to focus on my radiant smile or peaceful look and choose different pigeon-holes:  “mentor,” “role-model,” “person I can talk to or trust,” “weirdo.”  But notice that those pigeon-holes reflect their story – not necessarily mine.

I can choose to retain my own story and let them think what they want.  I can choose to buy into their story for me and reflect back to them what they think they want.  But either way, they are going to see what they want to see.  So do I really need my own story?  If no one is going to see me for who I “really am?”  Does it really matter what I think about myself?

So.  I’ll leave you with a couple of questions:

If my story is just my attempt to influence how people see me, what happens when I let go of it?

And:

Without some sort of story, can I even interact with other people?

Til next time, Create a joyous day!