Tell Me Your Story: Part 1

[T]here are surprisingly few occasions--or rituals--in which people are

expected or invited to tell the story of their lives from whatever they think the

beginning is: or to tell the even odder story that is their dream. (`The Telling of

Selves' Phillips On Flirtation 1994:75)

If there's one thing you should know about me, I love stories. So when I came across this quote in my African literature class, I was captivated. Ever since I read this, I have wanted to change it. Ever since I read this, I have been dying to ask someone, What is your story? What is it that made you the person you are today? Who are you and why are you here? What is your purpose? What do you wish you were doing? These questions roll and toss around inside my head, but I haven't given them voice, yet.

I want to be the kind of person that gives you space to tell your own story. I want to provide an exception to this quote. Part of this is my love for stories, the other part stems from my personality: I have a strong desire to overcome obstacles and constraints. Don't tell me something is impossible, because I will try to prove you wrong. There is something invigorating for me about struggling for something and achieving it, making the reward that much sweeter. This quote is just a constraint for me to break. There are few occasions for people to tell their stories? Then I will give them occasions. I will give them chances. I will give them spaces to be heard.

Last week, Jake and I talked about something similar to this. We were talking about life when he said, "I think the first episode of my life ended when I was diagnosed with cancer." Then he asked me how I would divide up the episodes of my life. The question caught me off guard, but I enjoyed answering it. I found that the first episode of my life ended when we moved away from Santa Rosa. I loved seeing how we split up lives differently. Though we've grown up together, we don't see ourselves the same way and I love that diversity!

I was telling him about how compelled I was by this question, "but I haven't asked anyone yet." I've been tempted; I've thought about it. But the words just haven't come out yet. So we turned it into a game: first person to ask someone else what their story is wins "a prize" (which will probably be merely mild gloating rights. It's not the prize that makes it fun; it's knowing that someone else is doing it too.). Jake was all, "I'm going to ask someone tomorrow... No, I'm going to ask someone right after I get off the phone!" "Whoa whoa, that's not fair!" I protested, "I'm going to sleep after this!" (Secretly, I also think it's not fair that he has such a large pool of people to pull from being at college, while I study locked up in my room all day!)

I get the feeling that this will become much more than just a game and it won't end with one story r two stories. (Hence the "Part 1" in the title of this post!) I see us collecting a multitude of stories like little puzzle pieces--fragments of a larger story that is begging to be told.