Our Own Stories

Dear readers,

     We each have a story that belongs to us, a story that we each write. Borrowing an example from Don Miguel Ruiz, pretend you are going to the movies. You walk into one theater and see yourself sitting and watching the show, it’s your show, just the way you know it to be. Then you walk over to the next theater and you see your sister watching the movie. But, it’s not the same story! The people, places and things are all the same, but it’s different. That did not happen that way, its all wrong!

     Haha! You are seeing your story through your sister’s memories and perceptions. This goes on and on as you walk into different theaters and see your mothers, fathers, brothers, friends, all the people involved in your story each have their own version of the story. Each person is absolutely correct in their memory of events. Why? Because we are all different, we each have our own unique perception of life. Every experience we have is routed through our very own editor and written according to our perception. This can make life wonderful and it can also make life hell. Wonderful when you can use your voice without fear, hell when you believe you are not allowed to speak.

     When a person has lived with suppression throughout their life, there comes a time when they have had enough. All of my life I’ve been told, forget about it, don’t make waves, you can’t live in the past, the past is over just let it all go. The big one “there are no BUTs allowed, you are not allowed to have a voice!

     Who the heck is someone else to tell a person they have no right to speak up about personal injustice. No right to say, this event caused me great pain. I’m not talking about constant whining or living a victim mentality throughout your life. Or accusing someone and attacking them. I’m talking about just being acknowledged. Allowed to have a voice without someone else telling you to shut up, stuff it down, forget it

     There are many different ways to suppress a person’s voice. I think the worst is ostracization, to be made an outcast, to be shunned. To turn a cold icy back to the person who needs to be heard. Telling that person they are not a part of your everyday life and that they are not important to you. Or ignoring them, brushing aside their need to communicate, assuming whatever it is is an attack on either you or your family.

     It amazes me that we will stand over a loved one or friend holding their hair while they vomit during sickness. We will rush to mend a cut, bruise or broken bone. But when a heart and spirit are wounded, we push it away with swift denial. Yet at the same time we will tell the broken heart, the broken spirit, that we love them so very much. Well, as long as no waves are made, as long as we shut up.

     Why would anyone tell another to stuff it down? Maybe hearing another person’s story makes you uncomfortable, or maybe you believe you have participated somehow and feel guilty.

     As for the person who may seem to constantly whine, perhaps they whine because no one has ever listened. Perhaps it is you who hear whining rather than a plea to be acknowledged. What does this matter to you, it’s not your fault some one got a bad deal or is unhappy. I hear this repeated over and over again, it’s not my problem and it’s not your problem. However, if we truly care for the people we say we love, then perhaps just taking the time to get past our own hang-ups and just acknowledge whatever it is the other person is trying to say would help change hell into wonderful.