Storytelling and What We Tell Ourselves
Talk with someone long enough and you’ll begin to hear their stories, or at least the themes of those stories, repeat. Those repeating stories are important because they tell us what that person believes to be true about self and the world. It shows us how they expect to be treated, their world view, and what they believe.
As I was journaling this morning, I noticed my mind was storytelling about supporting others to realize their big dreams, their playing-to-win dreams. This makes sense given my professions as a clinical psychologist and holistic coach. Holding big space for someone to realize their dreams is definitely a service that feels “in flow” for me. But what does that mean for me about my own big dreams?
As I noodled on that question, I noticed some interesting tributaries to that flow. For example, it fit well with Jim Rohn’s idea that the best way to get what we want is to help others get what they want. So what is it I want? My big, bold, audacious dream is to build a pocket neighborhood/cottage court/intentional community that serves those of us of a certain age who don’t have family nearby to help us and those of us who want to be homeowners, but don’t have the resources to get over the humps of downpayment, credit score, budgeting, etc. Did you know the average first-time home buyer is now 40 years old? Clearly that “missing middle” housing issue continues to dog many of us. My vision is to bring together groups of folks who can support each others’ dreams of independence and homeownership. I get your kid off the bus when you’re held over at work and you clean out my gutters because you being on a ladder isn’t the disaster waiting to happen that me being on a ladder is, for example.
So back to my dream and my storytelling. Within my own storytelling, I can discover my self-imposed barriers to success in manifesting this community. These barriers tend to rise to the surface naturally as I work with clients. I can see their playing-not-to-lose approaches to their dreams, thus revealing my playing-not-to-lose approaches to mine. There’s an old therapy saw about us only being able to take others as far as we’ve gone ourselves. I think there’s validity in that, marked by another old therapy saw that whatever you need to work on yourself is going to walk through your door in the form of your clients.
These opportunities also occur for those of us who are not connected to the helping professions. Ever notice how irritated you get with folks who are struggling with something you’ve struggled with in the past? That reformed smoker as our most judgmental “ally” when we’re trying to quit? Pay attention to what you find most irritating in others, then turn your intuitive eyes inward to see where that is reflected in yourself. Don’t be surprised if you find yourself defending against taking a clear view of that. There’s a reason that particular aspect has been lurking in your shadows. Often they’re not fun to address, but so worth our efforts to do so as it opens up the flow toward our desired goals more fully when those shadow beliefs are addressed and released.
Another tributary that can show up is when our helping another person get what they want is actually a way to avoid working on getting what we want. We get to be sanctimonious and smug about how helpful we’re being to another, all the while martyring our own big dreams on the “helper” altar. If you become aware that this is you, don’t beat yourself up about that. It’s common. Not self-sustaining, but common. A classic playing-not-to-lose maneuver. When we’re willing to allow ourselves to take the painful look at that, it’s our first step toward being in our own flow and playing to win for ourselves.
When we get more willing to be in our own flow, it’s interesting to note that most often that flow doesn’t take us where we expect to go, but to where we’re meant to go. Following our flow opens the path before us to reveal what we’re truly meant to be doing and move away from what we think we ought to be doing or were trained to do. For example, my son is an artist who went through the trials of others’ fears about “how are you going to make a living as an artist? You’d better get an art education degree instead!” I countered by telling him to follow his path where it was leading him, not to cave in to others’ fears and insecurities. Where has that path led him? He’s still creating art and working at an art studio, but he’s also organizing farm workers with great passion. Would he have discovered that passion if he had played not to lose by getting a degree in art education? I doubt it.
Following our life’s path with all of its meanderings will lead to far greater happiness and productivity than trying to force a path that truly isn’t ours. And a great beginning for this is becoming conscious of the storytelling we’re doing and noting whether those stories that we have on repeat truly serve us or keep us stuck.
