Every Story Begins Inside Another Story
“Every story begins inside a story that’s already begun by others. Long before we take our first breath, there’s a plot well underway with characters and a setting we did not choose but which were chosen for us.”
I have only ever done things that I am sure that I could do. One might think this speaks to a fear of failure but I think it actually may speak to a fear of success. Now that I am older, I am not as driven by failure and success, I just want to follow my heart and feed my passions. And when those butterflies start fluttering in my stomach, I know I am on the right track.
Since I was a young girl I have wanted to write a book. I think it was Dorothy Sayers who said, I don’t want to write a book, I want to have written a book. But now I actually want to write a book!
Over the last few months, I have been making notes, ordering books, and losing myself for hours on the Internet as I explore ideas. The nervous excitement I feel tells me this is something I want to do. I have started researching but I have not yet started writing, although some would claim that research is part of the process. You see, as much as success and failure no longer factor into the picture, I am struggling with imposter theory. Who am I to think I can write this book? I am not an expert. Others have more experience to write this book. But then I recall Madeleine L’Engle’s words, “It’s all been said better before. If I thought I had to say it better than anybody else, I’d never start. Better or worse is immaterial. The thing is that it has to be said; by me.”
Why am I sharing this with you? Well, if I keep it to myself, I may never write this book. By sharing my plans with those of you who are rowing north with me, I feel I am making it real, it becomes a commitment to you, and to myself. So let me tell you what I want to write about because I suspect some of you may want to join me on this journey.
When I was young I kept a diary, then a journal, and in my twenties I began writing my life stories. At times I can only make sense of my own life by writing out my experiences and feelings. In rewiring my life, I decided that I wanted to share this process with other women and trained to become a guided autobiography instructor. I now facilitate life story writing workshops. I introduce women to themes and enlightening questions that foster memories and recollections to help them write their life stories. Life stories can be a legacy and I believe they are also a powerful catalyst for learning about ourselves and our shared female experiences.
But two things happened this past year that have had me reflecting that our life stories start long before our birth.
The first was a conversation I had with my mother past winter. Out of the blue, my 86-year old mother shared something from her childhood that she had never mentioned before. At first, I dismissed the story. My mother’s memory had started slipping into forgetfulness and, while she did not lie, she was known to fabricate events. Yet I kept thinking about the story she shared because if it was true, and I suspected it might be, it completely changed my perception of my mother, a woman with who I have had a difficult relationship for most of my life. I wondered why she had never mentioned this before? Although I know from my guided autobiography training that it is not unusual for older people to disclose distant memories.
And then I read The Speed of Mercy by Christy Ann Conlin. The publisher’s description states that the book shares “what happens when history is suppressed, our past is forgotten – yet finding the truth can change the future.” A reviewer wrote that the book is “about the pain women carry across generations, in their bones and hands, how their voices are silenced and suppressed, and what happens when they try to take them back.” I don’t want to give the plot away except to say that it is a powerful generational story about women and if you haven’t read it yet, you should!
I have come to realize, in the words of Richard Blanco, that “every story begins inside a story that’s already begun by others. Long before we take our first breath, there’s a plot well underway with characters and a setting we did not choose but which were chosen for us.”
And there you have it; suddenly I had this nugget of an idea, fed by the butterflies in my stomach, that I wanted to write about generational stories. Let me share with you what I think I’d like to write about.
What fascinates me most is family narratives and the intergenerational impact on women. Are we more resilient when we know our stories? Do we learn to break the cycle of generational patterns? Do our generational stories create bridges or chasms? Those are only some of the questions I want to explore.
And then there are the generational stories themselves. I come from a family that did not share family narratives. I know little of my past. When I was young I was told – and I can’t remember who said it - that I come from a long line of strong, independent blue-collar women, some of who had their own business. But when I mentioned that to my mother, she scoffed and said, I’ve never heard that! And I have no one left to ask. I know many of the facts of my past but not many of the stories behind those facts. But I do know some of the stories and I believe they have shaped the woman I am today.
Generational stories can be oral histories and folklore. They may be hidden behind a wall of secrecy or veiled in community secrets. The narratives may be incomplete or the stories we remember may differ from versions heard by other family members.
As you can see, at the start of this journey the river is wide and at times turbulent. I am not sure yet what tributaries I will explore.
What I do know is I will not be writing an academic tome. In the late 1970s I read two books by Jane Howard, a journalist with Life magazine – Families and A Different Woman. I remember thinking that is how I want to write. I love exploring the ordinary, not the extraordinary, and writing about the ordinary in simple words. And frankly, I find the ordinary quite extraordinary!
So, your thoughts? Does this peak your interest? Do you have generational stories that you might like to share? Are you aware of research that can shed light on this topic? I welcome questions, your comments, and your stories!
I am working on content for a winter workshop series to explore this topic with one or two small groups. Details to come.
If you are interested, or would like to share any resources or comments with me, please email me at agelesspossibilities@shaw.ca. I look forward to hearing from you. And you are always welcome to comment below.