Follow the feathers, to the threads, to the lines, to the meaning of sentences strung together to tell the stories of one’s life. Every work day, this is the practice. People tell themselves all kinds of stories: of experience, of identity, of luck, of illness, of sacrifice, of privilege, and on and on. Words stacking, halting, halving, ripping and joining.
Some stories they have been given, repeated across a litany of years for so long, they no longer remember who is the author or that this matters.
What are the stories you live by? How do they help you make meaning of the path to now — this present moment — or provide guideposts to a future you dream of?
This is the work of self-reflection and awareness. And this is only a part of the story.
The body has its own narratives, its own remembrances, its own way of stockpiling and telling our truths, of sense-making. Of course, we are one being, but over time, we are taught to segment, to separate: mind, body, energy, spirit, soul, life force. Candace Pert was the first one to scientifically prove that emotion exists at the cellular level. Even still, we segment. We parse. We divide within ourselves and are left to put the pieces back together into wholeness.
Investigate the threads; this is the invitation. What are the stories you are telling yourself? Are they life-affirming? Who and how do they serve? When should a story be set down or reframed? When is a new story necessary for flight, for freedom?
