There’s always a story to be told. That story, that experience, is what made you who you are today. You went through it, learned from it, and carried on. You lived to tell the story. When you are telling your tale, imagines might still be in your mind reminding you of all that happened. The look on someone’s face, the pain or joy that you felt, the lessons you learned, and the fact that you were even there. It’s amazing how you can have an experience and even years after, still not be able to find the words to describe it. Some of them move you in your deepest of cores. Others cause you extreme pain and you are unsure how you will ever carry on afterwards.
But the saddest of them all is that it’s just going to be a story.
Sure you might have a memento or picture. You might even have another witness who can validate what you have said. Ultimately, it is just a story.
The experiences you are having now, even reading this, is just going to become a story after you are done.
“I went to this blog and the girl was talking about how everything we experience is only a story in the end,” you will say to someone. Maybe a discussion will come from it, maybe a passing thought, but even then… it was just a story.
I can tell you a story about how I got my first tattoo. I can tell you a story about the first boy I ever liked. I can even tell you a story about the boy who gave me my first kiss. But it’s all over. It’s now in the past. I got through everything.
Whatever you are experiencing now, you are going to get through it. If it is hard, if it is rough, if it is painful – it’s just going to be a story one day. You will be telling it to younger generations. It might be to teach them a lesson you learned the hard way; it might be to leave a little piece of you behind in the world.
There is something interesting in this all – we like to hear the stories.
My late grandfather used to tell me stories of World War II. He was talking about being on a boat and he and his roommate were fighting on who got the top bunk because being on the top bunk, you were able to see out the window; you were able to see the stars. The way he told me that story, I knew he still saw those stars when he closed his eyes. His smile was so perfect on his face, as if he were transported back to that bunk instantly.
That was one of his stories. I will always remember it. The way he told it to me, the expressions on his face, the love he had for that memory. It moved me.
When I look up at the night sky and see the stars, I realize these are the same stars he saw. Now, I look at them differently because of him.
A story changed my view on the stars.
How powerful and amazing is that?
So live in the moments that you have, both good and bad. Soak up everything about it. Write it down, make a vlog, do what you need to to remember all the details of what happened. Explain how the event/experience changed you or moved you. Get as much information stored as you possibly can.
Because one day, it will be your story… and you want it to be good.