When My Life and My Story Don't Match

The stories I think to write bore me. Every blog post I try to concoct falls flat. 

I am living happily ever after and I am bored with my story... How can this be? It makes no sense? 

Well, I am having a hard time coming up with a new story line in my mind (Ok, stick with me).  In my head I hear the same story, the same thoughts over and over, “I’m not doing good enough. I haven’t earned this. They won’t understand. This won’t last, it’s only a matter of time until the bottom drops out. You better get busy getting better.” 

Of course the story is not true and I have spent the last 5 years successfully listening to the story, inquiring about it, questioning it and moving beyond it. I am choosing not to believe that about myself thus opening up options to do something else entirely. 

There was a time in my life I believed those thoughts and my life reflected it. I put myself in situations where I needed to prove myself, where I over promised and under delivered. I was constantly disappointed with the results of my life and myself. 

Now the results of my life are drastically, beautifully, happily different AND YET my story hasn’t changed. I still hear the same thoughts, I feel the same sadness, dread, anxiety, irritation, etc. 

For example last weekend I was leading a workshop called Beyond Reasons where we facilitate people identifying their personal story they tell that keeps what they want just out of reach. It is a two-day workshop and at the end of the first day I went home after leading it and I could hear all the old familiar thoughts arise, “Oh man, this isn’t going well. I am not doing a great job leading them through this process. I shouldn’t be doing this yet. I need more training...etc.” 

This is not a new, I know these thoughts well. I just listened as my mind ranted, kicked, screamed and came up with really creative ways to fake my own kidnapping to get out of going back the second day. I even dreamt about people getting up and leaving in the middle of the workshop demanding their money back. 

I actually woke up laughing. My mind was working at a level of desperation to convince me to bail that I had not experienced before. Yet, I remained detached (Go me!). I listened to myself like I do my two-year-old niece coming up with all kinds of reasons not to eat her vegetables ending with a brilliant closing argument on why cookies are a more suitable dinner. I listen to her with fascination, compassion and a loving “No, sorry kid.” 

While I was brushing my teeth Sunday morning preparing for the workshop I was trying to avoid, I looked at myself in the mirror, admired my toothpaste lip liner, then looked into my own eyes and said out loud, “It ain’t over yet. I’m going to nail it today and I know exactly how I am going to do it.” 

The greatest thing happened after that; thoughts flooded my mind of all the ways I could pull the workshop together, what stories I could share to support the people in the workshop, ways I could ask questions to further the participants self-discovery and an overwhelming sense of assurance. 

Sunday night as I was hugging participants from the workshop goodbye, thoroughly enjoying our connection, I smiled inside. None of this would have happened if I believed my stinkin’ thinkin’. Not just from the night before but also from the thoughts the week before and the year before and so on. I made a very important decision years ago that I am capable of more than I think, and I won’t let old stories stop me from having what I want. 

I am in awe of the power of my mind and the creativity it exercises. Its ability to take something that I love and enjoy and create a story filled with doom and disappointment amazes me. AND that only happens when I stop giving it direction. Just like my niece would reach for the cookie if I weren’t watching, my mind easily wanders to the old story when I stop paying attention.  

When I lose site of celebrating my life, focusing on what I appreciate and being deliberate with my purpose and intention then my mind is apt to create the same, old, dull story. I am also noticing when I am so intently involved with my purpose, like in the workshop, that when I go to rest I should expect that in the down time my mind will run wild with that boring, old story. 

Until, one day, my life will only be punctuated by this story. It will cease to pervade my thoughts. I am sure it will creep up occasionally, especially when I raise the bar for myself and push myself beyond what I think is possible. As I enter this unknown territory it will rear its familiar head and I will, with fascination compassionately and lovingly say "No, sorry kid."