The Stories We Tell Through the Life We Live

I tend to view life as a book.
The front cover is the day we are born.
The back cover will be the day we leave this world.
The inside liner is a brief synopsis of who we are and is often written for the world to see through social media sites or a chance meeting with someone. The liner gives others a general idea of the things that are important to others, or the job they do, or the interests that they have, but you don’t really know who the person truly is. The meat of everyone’s life is in the middle.

Our life’s story is most often told by ourselves in the first person through our daily actions and interactions with others. Other people tell our story from their second person perspective and interpretation of those actions and interactions; whether they are witness to our story or a participant in it. As we daily live out the telling of our story, I think it becomes clear that all humans have very specific needs that we desire to have met in order to feel fulfilled.

The first of those needs is love – the giving and receiving.
Another need we have is to feel as though we have somehow made a difference in the lives of those around us – the feeling of significance, as if our existence on this earth was Divinely inspired for a greater good and not merely a chance formation of random matter.
A third need that I feel we inherently have is the need for connection with others. We tweet to reach out; we update our status to let the whole world into our private universe; we pin our interests and ideas. It seems as though our validation or “worthiness”, too often comes in the number of “repins” we receive, the “likes” and comments from our status updates, or the “followers” we have amassed for our tweets.

I began thinking of my own life’s story the other day as it relates to my children.

My oldest daughter has reached the glorious age of 11. It is now that I am beginning to see how her viewpoint of me as a central figure in her life has begun to shift. My ideas or suggestions are now met with eye-rolls instead of thoughtful consideration that my life’s experiences may warrant some degree of wisdom. My requests for compliance over simple household chores is now met with foot stomping, which clearly indicates to me that the “demands” of her life are of greater significance than that of an orderly room. My time with her one-on-one is being replaced with time alone in her room to read, play, or communicate with friends (via text, FaceTime, or on the phone). My reminders of proper conduct are met with the criticism that such lady-like behavior will somehow make her life miserable.

Don’t get me wrong – I remember a time in my life when I viewed my own mother with such disregard. It’s a natural part of the “growing up and growing away” process that all offspring must go through. But in the midst of this, I can’t help but wonder what stories she will tell to her own children about this difficult time of transition in her life. More generally speaking, what story (legacy) will I leave behind for my children to pass along to the generation that they will usher into this world? Will my life’s story leave behind a rare treasure trove of wisdom and guidance that will grant them a bit of safe passage through this thing called “life”?

As we live out the story of our own lives, we must remember one certain thing: none of us are told beforehand how many chapters we will be allowed to write into our book. For some, the story will end suddenly and for others, it will slowly and concisely come to a neat, clean conclusion. Regardless of the length of our life’s book or the chapters therein, if you will, I believe we must live with such purpose, depth, and authenticity that length will not truly matter. Instead, when the book on our life is closed, the readers who witnessed our story will somehow be transformed and will write a piece of our story into their life’s book as well. My own life’s book is not exclusively “me” in nature, but a conglomerate of threads from all the wonderful stories of others’ influence that I have woven into my
story as well. I hope my children will do the same of me as well.

Live well Reader…and write a fabulous, thrilling, page-turning life’s story.