—
There’s a lot of critical talk in “conscious communities” about our “stories” – the tales our minds are telling us about what’s happening, seen through the filters of our past experiences and conditioned beliefs. Many suggest that stories are something we should recognize as false and therefore disregard. That they are hindrances on the path of personal and spiritual growth, and they do not “serve us.” That stories are something to transcend or ignore, not to search for value in.
Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m not a big fan of that story about stories. So I’m writing a new one, and it goes a little somethin’ like this…
Our stories hold the key to discovering and expressing our unique soul purpose, and returning to wholeness and love. Each tale carries with it an opportunity to rewrite the ending of an old story with the ink of compassion. And as we do so, fragments of our limitless potential return to us, and we take another step back into the infinite love that we are.
Stories are the vehicles through which precious cargo is transported from the dark corners of our being to the light of awareness. They carry with them repressed emotions and expressions of our unique divinity that have been relegated to the shadows. Made wrong and shamed by society, our culture, our parents, former lovers, and others from our past, they have retreated to our underworlds.
These external judgmental voices became the voices in our heads, and from there they continue to do the work of criticizing and shaming us, causing us to hide, avoid, and deny parts of ourselves, and to judge (or perhaps envy) everyone else that doesn’t reject these parts of themselves. And we often do this without even realizing we’re doing it, and the cycle continues.
Aspects of our being that do not receive the compassion and love they seek, through the arrival of their stories, are not integrated into the light when their tales are told. Instead of returning to Oneness, they return to the shadows and get to work on the next story they would be perfectly cast in. The next opportunity for us and those we love to access and choose compassion in response to their pain. The pain we feel as our own.
Stories, and the emotional expressions that accompany them, can arrive at any moment. Perhaps our partner has made plans that don’t include us, and tales ready to be told rise to the surface, many of them familiar reruns. Aspects of us that felt neglected by our father or abandoned by our mother step onto the scene in a starring role. Thoughts that they don’t have enough time for us, or that we are a burden or “too much,” carry with them fear and loneliness, anger and disappointment. These emotions may not have been welcomed in our past, by ourselves or others, and they are longing for a new experience. They’re hoping that this time it is okay to exist, and they will not be judged and shamed.
If these parts of us are met with love, the story may begin to soften, the pain beneath it may be grieved, and the writers may become less ambitious. If not, the characters may return to the shadows, and the story may take a more dramatic turn. Continuing to feel the lack of compassion and acceptance they desire, they may begin to rage more fiercely, striking us down with physical ailments or circumstances that create emotional instability so their voices may be heard. These rejected parts of us may bring us to our knees if we do not learn to hear their cries for love.
Why are these emotions arising now? Perhaps because our souls have decided there’s no time like the present. They’ve deemed us ready for initiation. We had limited ability to cope with the intensity of these feelings in the past, to face the pain that lies beneath. We felt far too little comfort in the moments in which we originally experienced them, so these expressions of emotion headed deep into the darkness to hide. There they learned the art of storytelling, and began working on their future scripts – the ones which create the potential for a new final chapter in which they are welcomed with open arms and feel safe again. And now that we are stronger and more resourced, we may, at last, be capable of co-creating these new endings with them, perhaps with the help of others.
In order to shift judgmental ways of relating with ourselves and others, it can be helpful to bring awareness to what is happening within us. Through this process, we may notice that we have internalized the messages we’ve received throughout our lives of what is and is not okay to be and express, and that because of the lack of acceptance this has created, we may be unable to welcome and integrate aspects of ourselves that do not fit these narrow parameters. This may lead our shadow authors to continue to manifest situations which have the potential to create new experiences for these forsaken parts of us, and to help us soften into a less judgmental way of being.
Sometimes we co-create experiences that free us from our conditioning in relationship with others. When someone, perhaps our romantic partner, responds in compassionate and accepting ways that contradict our old stories, we begin to accept and have compassion for these parts of ourselves as well. This guides them toward completion of their journey of returning to Oneness, reconnecting us with aspects of our unique expression that have the potential to help us do our soul work in the world. And without our stories, these shunned expressions of emotion wouldn’t find their way back to us. The stories are their ride to the re-union.
The parts of us that were rejected in the past are searching for an experience of acceptance. Much like us, they are looking for a safe haven in which they feel welcomed and can be themselves. Where they no longer have to hide and feel safe to be fully seen. Sometimes another comes into our lives that can help co-create this safe space for all the dynamic expressions of our being to be seen, heard, and loved. And sometimes we are able to do this for them as well. We might call each other “soul mates.” But we can be our own soul mate as well. We can become that safe haven for ourselves in addition to co-creating safe havens with others.
Our stories are the wings on which our repressed expressions return to us. Feelings arise, hoping for a new experience that we did not get in previous relationships with ourselves, our parents and caregivers, and other important people in our lives. Those that we placed expectations on in order to feel safe and create opportunities for resolution of old wounding. We can provide that experience for these expressions of our being now, simply by noticing that the voices in our heads that make ourselves and others wrong are not our own. That they are recordings that were placed there by others.
This awareness ignites an organic process of recognizing our conditioning, moving through frustration and other emotions we’ve suppressed, grieving the pain of separation our wounded choices have created, experiencing compassion for our suffering and the suffering of others, and providing a welcoming space for these banished parts of ourselves to return to the light. And as we do this for ourselves, we naturally begin to provide this compassionate space for others.
In the beginning, this process may be gradual, and we may go into survival mode quite often, causing a fight, flight, or freeze response. And there will likely be many moments of intense frustration in feeling a lack of liberation at the hands of our conditioning, and much doubt and confusion about who we are without it, and who we wish to be. But with the gifts of stories creating endless opportunities for us to wake up to our programming and move beyond our conditioned ways of being, and to welcome home parts of us that were previously excluded, we gradually begin to soften and feel more free. And to judge and shame and avoid less, and allow and accept and appreciate more.
And although these stories may never go away, over time, this idea doesn’t bother us so much. Because as we become a welcoming space for all of the expressions of who we are, we begin to discover that it was the resistance that was creating much of the suffering. And we gain a deeper appreciation for the process of allowing our stories and feelings, and for the essential role we are playing.
That role is to embody the love we wish to experience in the world. To become a compassionate container. And as more aspects of our being return to us, we learn our unique way of being this for ourselves, for others, and for the world.
And we return to love.
—
A version of this post was originally posted on TroyCohen.Wordpress.com and is republished here with permission from the author.
—
