Stories

We all have a story of how we got to where we are. The stories of our lives. There are songs about it ("The Story" by Brandi Carlile) and there are books about it (A Million Miles in a Thousand Years by Donald Miller -- one of my very favorite books, one I can read over & over, one I highly recommend you check out). I love listening to people's stories. It provides so much insight into who they are, and why. I seem to always learn something not only about them, but about life and people, too. I usually have "A-ha!" moments as I'm learning about someone's journey that makes me think about it in the context of my own life. I also typically find that we have more in common than would meet the eye.

The problem is: not a lot of people share their stories. And, not a lot of people revisit their stories. {Or maybe that's just my perception.} Everyone talks about their bucket list, or their 30 before 30 list [or something], but the conversation topic is not often "What I have done." So many of our social interactions in this day in age are on the surface. We accept people at face value for who they are. I want to know why they are the way they are. I want to know who and what made someone the way they are today. 

I'm all for bucket lists and whatnot; I'm actually creating mine right now. I love dreaming big…it opens a world of exciting possibilities! It literally makes me happy just thinking about all of the amazing things I have yet to experience in my life, if I am so blessed to be given that time here on Earth. And, I don't think people should necessarily live in the past and dwell on the things they used to do, or once did, or regret not doing at the time. BUT, I do think we should give ourselves credit. For every item on our things to do before 30 list, I'm sure there is one that we have already done that makes us who we are today. 

 I love to reminisce. It keeps things fresh. When I take the time to remember who I was at a particular moment of my story, it makes that part of me become alive again. My family & I love to tell stories. We'll talk about my childhood, or my Dad & his brother will tell stories of our family and our little, small town. My Grandma will tell stories of her life: growing up in a small town with all of her siblings, when she was a working mother of a young family, of her memories of days spent with her grandkids. I would say this happens often, probably weekly. And I love it. It's good to remember where you came from and not always focus just on where you are. 

My Grandparents on my Dad's side are now gone and I think of them often. There are a lot of little things that remind me of them. My Mom calls me "Little Betty" on an almost daily basis and we laugh, because there's a lot of my Grandma in me. And even though they often come to mind, I still like to visit them at the cemetery from time to time, as I did recently. I remember thinking when they passed that I didn't know a world without them. And then somehow you get used to this world without them in it. You get used to them being more of a memory than anything. And that's kind of how we are with moments in our life. We get used to them being a memory. We may call them to mind from time to time but that's it. They are no longer alive. That's why I still visit my grandparent's grave -- it makes me do more than just think about them, it takes me back to when they were still alive. It renews my connection with them. The same goes for looking back on memories. When my family & I tell stories of my childhood, it makes me reconnect with that little girl and reminds me to keep her alive as I go through life. It reminds me to live life looking through her eyes a little more often…the sheer delight at the simplest things. 

I was reminiscing with a friend yesterday about when I got the call offering me my first job after college. It was less than a month before graduation and I knew I was moving to California but I hadn't secured a job yet. I remember hanging up the phone and just being on cloud 9. I remember the PURE excitement (and relief!) of knowing I had this job, and this new life awaiting me. Looking back, I was 22, living in this new city and working this new job and all I can remember being is happy & carefree. {I think as we get older, it gets harder and harder to remain carefree.} I get used to that particular life story, I get used to it being in my past, a memory. But the importance of reminiscing is that it reminds me to try to live with that carefree spirit, even when my life doesn't seem to be made up of the new and exciting or when life has taught me to be a little more cautious or skeptical.

One day, I will want to pass these stories down to my kids. Tell them about how their grandparents grew up, or stories from their great-grandparents childhood, stories from my childhood. Tell them the history of my life experiences and how it led me to where I am in that moment. I want to keep the memories, the people, the experiences alive. I want my past and the past of my family to be alive inside me so that people don't just think I am who I am because I am. I didn't just show up like this, and neither did anyone else. I want others to know, and relate to, why I am who I am. Who influenced that. And I want to learn the same things about them. I love to share stories.  I love to remember stories. I love to CREATE stories.