I was thinking about the words “journal therapy” and what they mean, what it means. And I decided a better name for what I do is “story therapy.” We can heal and inspire and move ourselves by simply seeing, owning, and grabbing hold of the very story we are living.
When we write about our lives, we may step back and see our lives as they really are—an epic story filled with surprises and let downs, work and luck, longing and failing and growing. All of our experiences—the good and the bad—contain the little stories that make up the epic story of our lives. No one before and no one after will ever live the same story. Our lives are unique and profound.
The moments that inspire us, fill us with hope and break our hearts are chapters; the phases that take us to our knees and make us grow are the arcs; the angels and villains, our family and friends are the characters; what we say and how we say it is the voice of the narrator (voice of ourselves).
This is story.
What we are wondering or struggling with right now won’t be what we are wondering or struggling with tomorrow. Our lives are in constant motion, and if we are going to take charge of this story, then we need to step into it, both feet on the ground.
When we do this, we can use our creativity and determination to figure out how to be a hero within our own story.
Remember, a good story is well-textured—it goes up and down, (imagine a heart rate monitor telling you if you are alive or not) moving with the tides of our lives. No one wants to read a perfect story about a perfect character living a perfect life. We don’t want to read this story and we don’t want to live this story.
We are moved when we triumph over struggle, when we walk through our fear, and when we grow and heal from broken hearts. These are the things that move us. And without them, there is no story. Just a flat line.