Over time our stories change based on reflections of past experiences and newly lived experiences. They change when people move in and out of our lives; when we meet new people and they begin to weave themselves into our stories. They change when people in our stories no longer play the roles they always had, the roles that kept the story secure and unchanging. They change when people in our stories die.
Our stories also change when new information is presented to us, when a new piece of a chapter is created by someone within our story. Do we lose our narrative author-ity when this happens? Who has the right to change our stories but the author? Who has the control to change the story? Of course, when someone tries their hand at our ink we can chose to not accept their revision, but it is difficult not to acknowledge that our perception of our story has been challenged.
Do we owe a responsibility to the unwanted collaborator to acknowledge their edits? If the story is ours, possibly not. They can live in their version and we can live in our own. Whose story holds validity? The revision may not change the events of the story but may alter the theme or feeling, and what if the original author does not accept the new them or feeling?
When we write about people - specifically intimate others who have long been a part of stories - we take the risk of starting fires. The trick is to see what is left behind, what survived, when the smoke clears.
Sometimes it is difficult to figure out what it is you need to see, in order to move on with your life. Although the future may be unclear, if you are patient the smoke will clear and what is in store for you will reveal itself. It is up to you to choose if the glass is half empty, or half full.
The Smoke
- Jennifer
- Humans are story telling animals. We tell stories about our lives, and we live within those stories. We use stories to create our past, present, and future. We find our beliefs, values, and morals embedded in our stories. We are fragile, breakable, and inside each of use there is something more, there is the smoke left over from the fire in our stories.
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