A friend of mine was given some bad health news recently. Of course there are pills to try and some treatments that might help, but for today modern medicine doesn’t have a cure. What makes this worse is she watched a family member die of the same disease, so she knows what is coming.
Like all of us she is busy. Her life is full of kids and work and just day to day “stuff” . Each day is packed full long into the evening and beyond. She is over worked and over tired 99% of the time, but then who among us is not.
When she told me about her diagnosis she said that she was going to have to change her life. That from now on things would have to be different. Slower. No more late nights at work with a deadline after the kids were asleep. Stopping to smell the flowers, enjoy what she has and live each moment.
In her words I heard the voices of others. Those who had talked to her soon after her diagnosis. Their prescriptions of how her life would be. The ones who gave her hope and a vision of her future.
But I also heard her new story.
The story that once you tell it enough times becomes who you are. As she talked to various members of our barn family I heard minor variations, but the major themes stayed the same. She was reinventing herself in front of my eyes. Each retelling put more faith in the universe.
We reinvent ourselves with each telling of our stories. Even when it is not our own words. The more times our story is told in the outside world the more true it becomes.
I watched how with each telling came acceptance.