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The Stories We Tell

An Existential Narrative Guide to
Understanding Your Past,
Embracing Your Present,
and Anticipating your Future

0 of 30 Stories Told

We all tell stories. It is fundamental to our shared human experience. There are stories we tell ourselves, and stories we tell the world. Sometimes, these stories are in alignment.

Oftentimes, they are not. Much like a mime exaggerates his or her expressions, our outer world overshadows our inner domain, and those around us only see the falsehoods we want them to see.

Our stories become masks and though we are seen, we are not truly known.

The mime is an excellent metaphor for the work this journal hopes to inspire in you. Modern pantomime is a silent, extravagant expression of emotion that belies the true internal condition of the mime performing the act.

Where we see joy conveyed, there is a very real brokenness underneath.

Where we see dejection, there is exuberance just waiting to be unleashed!

Where we see an invisible prison, there is actually freedom to move.

The stories we tell ourselves and those around us are misaligned. Only when we are willing to align those stories, not merely with one another, but with reality itself, can we finally, truly, be known. The psychologist, Carl Rogers, called this congruency.

The lay theologian, C.S. Lewis, also explored this journey in the last book he wrote, Till We Have Faces. In the climax of the book, Orual, the protagonist and narrator of the story, says,

“I saw well why the gods do not speak to us openly nor let us answer. Till that word can be dug out of us, why should they hear the babble that we think we mean? How can they meet us face to face till we have faces?”

We live life unknown to one another, a collection of decorated faces tugging on an invisible rope that leads nowhere. In a very real sense we have, all of us, become mimes.

But once the veil is lifted…
once the mask is removed…
once the paint is washed away…
can we finally be seen face to face.

Understanding communicates not only an intellectual awareness of something, but also a capacity for empathetic discernment.

Our past often has power over us because we do not understand it, nor grace for who we were when we experienced it. Exploring the past with bravery and honesty allows us a new understanding of it. Understanding the past allows us to name it, and by naming it, we have the power to define it. Not the other way around.

You are not defined by your past.

You are not the sum of your failures, nor is your worth only found in your victories (or lack thereof). Allow the past to inform you, not define you. Take the lessons worth learning and leave the lies behind.

We live in the tension of existence, in the tug o' war of our past and future selves. We are not who we were and we are not yet who we are going to be.

We persist in our being, here and now. And in living that out, we can be free from the self imposed restrictions of both our past and our future.

To embrace something means to accept it, but it can also mean to show it affection.

The here and now can be difficult to embrace, especially if your current situation is uncomfortable. At the very least, removing the paint from our faces means we accept reality for what it is.

But hopefully, we can also grow to love it, in all of its complexity.

In the context of this journal, anticipation takes on two different, but equally necessary, meanings. The first is to look forward to something. Specifically, that something is you, and the story you will be telling. Who will you be in a week? A year? Ten years? Be content in the present, and have ambitions you can strive for that enhance your story, both now and in the days to come.

The second meaning is to be prepared. Telling your story doesn't mean that future stories will be easy. There will always be reasons to reapply the paint. Don't! Take the tools you are learning and speak truth to the false narratives you will certainly encounter along the way. Becoming the person you envision will be a daily commitment moving forward. Stand firm!

I'd love to promise you that after completing all these exercises your face is now completely free of any paint. But that's not really reality. Even those of us trained in art of demasking struggle to be truly authentic. And that's okay. There is no shame in smudges. Nor, are they further examples of your perceived failures. Can you see more skin, more truth, than you did before? That's a win.

If you still find yourself with uncertainties, you're not alone. These guided entries do not hold the answers to all of your questions, and they did not try to. But did they open your mind to asking more questions? Do you have a greater desire to abandon the lies that come from shame and seek the truth, even when it stings? If so, then this journal has done its job.

There is beauty (or rugged good looks if that's more your thing) behind the paint. Did you find it? There is wisdom. Did you hear it? There is freedom. Did you welcome it? I am not asking if you acquired these things in their entirety. That would be impossible and foolish (not to mention arrogant) for this author to believe possible. But do you possess more than you did when you opened up this journal and read the Introduction? If so, then you have done your job.

I hope you revisit these exercises in the future, both to review, but also, to explore again. I also hope that as you continue this journey, you take along with you a trusted friend, mentor, or counselor to share these burdens and revelations with. I cannot overstate the value of exploring these topics within community.

May you ever be known as a Truthseeker and Storyteller; and though it doesn't sound as glamorous, a Paintscraper, as well.