Stories

Last weekend, I shared my 'story' with someone. My life story; the whole thing, birth to present. It took a long time, honestly, more than an hour and a half. I had never before done it all in one go. This person had specifically set up our lunch date to hear my story - no one had ever asked before, and I found myself eager to share it.

I'm not really sure where this eagerness came from. Maybe it's a secret fear that (I hope) we all have, that we'll be forgotten after our moment in time is over. We're all just blinks in the universe's eye. Are we making an impact? Does anyone or anything care? I have answered those questions for myself, but it is still daunting and overwhelming to ponder upon your potential legacy. What will you leave behind? Who will remember? Will your name still be known in three generations?

Telling my story was an emotional drain. Not because I find my story particularly dramatic, but because I was processing my entire life as I was telling it. The most interesting part for me was realizing later who and what I included, and who and what I left out. There are parts of my life that have felt mountain-shattering, that have ripped me apart and made me feel like I would never be able to tell which way was 'up' ever again. There have been times of extremely negative and overwhelmingly positive emotions; there have been times I have given up; there have been moments of triumph and pride; there have been people I have loved, I have betrayed, and others who have done the same to me. Some of these things and people didn't even get a footnote in my story the way I told it. Others, unexpectedly, got full chapters.

Listening to my own story unfold (through my own eyes, I should add) reminded me that maturity is a long road, and I hesitate to say I'll ever be an upstanding human specimen at the rate I am going. I don't say that in a self-depreciating way; I say that because I really believe there are always things one can be doing to better oneself.  Listening to my story reminded me of where I came from and who I have been. It reminded me how I have already grown quite a bit, sometimes by leaps and bounds over short periods of time. I think I'm closer to the person I would like to become than I was five years ago. Hopefully I'll continue in the right direction as my life progresses. I wonder what changes will occur in the way I tell my story as it continues.

A day later, I sat on the bus. It was a long ride to my destination, so I brought my book. I was clearly engrossed (or so I thought), when someone asked to sit next to me. He was probably in his mid- to late-thirties, and although he didn't look disheveled he gave the vibe of someone who was probably on the outskirts of society. Someone who had probably been put there against his own wishes, I would also guess. He started asking me about the weather. I nodded and smiled my appreciation of the sun on my face. He asked about the Seattle Public Library. I said I liked it. He mentioned his Kindle. I smiled. After each of these brief interactions, I put my head back down into my book. He quietly moved away from me to an adjacent seat just a few stops before I got off the bus.

As I exited, I realized how selfish I had been. I am not saying that I should have dropped everything and engaged this man in conversation...but why not? Why didn't I? He was clearly looking for someone to talk to. Maybe he has no one to talk to. Maybe no one has ever asked his story.

I think never telling your story to anyone, because they don't want to listen, is probably as draining as telling your story. Except the former hurts more, because those questions of what your life means in the universe are probably (erroneously) pointing towards one thing: nothing.

If this post comes off as depressing, I apologize. I just found it odd how these two, mirrored events occurred within 36 hours of each other. This post is really meant to say that your story is important, and you should tell it. In pieces, all at one time, whatever you want. Just share it with others. It's what connects us as humans, and it is what reminds us that we're all struggling with the same problems: selfishness, pride, control, fear, love, heartbreak, greed, lust, and the great unknown.

Before the end of the year, I would like to really challenge you all to ask someone their story. Maybe a parent or a friend, maybe a stranger. Maybe they will not know what to say and laugh it off, maybe they will get defensive and ask why, but maybe they will tell you. And we should listen.

Thankful for all of your beautiful souls. Thankful that you've all been a part of my life so far. Stick around, ok?