When I work with others to “see through” their stories, I am often forced to confront my own narratives as well. It is, after all, due to the lack of true separation between us. But what do I mean about narratives?
Narratives are the lifeblood of the mind’s existence. Everyday, every second in fact, stories are being created and told, ingested and identified with, and we, as humans, are clinging to every morsel. Why are stories so important to the mind? They create who we think ourselves to be. They create identifications with the body and the world that revolves around the body. Without the constant stream of thoughts, and the subsequent running narrative of our lives, there would be no meaning at all. In terms of the “story of one’s life,” your own mind is in fact creating meaning moment by moment.
Ever retell an anecdote about your life? It is created through the initial experience, consisting of thoughts and sensory experiences, which in turn are informed by past thoughts and experiences – judgments, wounds, lessons learned- and then filtered through memory, which consists of more thoughts, and then retold in a manner that best expresses the point you are trying to make to effect a response in the “other” on the listening end. Yet more thoughts. Thoughts, thoughts, thoughts. If enough thoughts gel together closely enough, they create a construct. A matrix of identifications which form into the concept of a person and their personality, personal history, and “lifepath.” There becomes a sense of individuality, of personhood, created by this string of thoughts, judgments, actions, and reactions. All begun by a thought. But what would have happened if the thought hadn’t occurred. What happens before the thought? Nothing. Nothing happens. Everything that “happens,” happens because of a thought. The thought creates the “reality.” The reality becomes the narrative that you live by. It creates the construct that makes up the structure of the “person” and of the entire world.
These constructs then behave like lovers and gladiators. They are constantly interacting with one another. Alternating between gentle soothing touches and fiercely battling to the death. Whose death? And who is watching it all? Aware of the supposed battle. Lending life force to the appearances. Knowing that they are only wisps of nothing in a Don Quixote battle against themselves. Existing out of time, in a world only they have created. Thinking they are affecting everything or anything, thinking they are restricted by barriers, thinking they are thinking. The stories and characters are images on a screen…but who or what is the screen? Explore your stories and you may just see for yourself…