WHAT'S YOUR STORY MORNING GLORY?

I have been thinking lately about all of the stories we tell ourselves...and how they can define who we are...if we let them.

I am plant illiterate. I have a black thumb. You would (if you were smart) never ask me to plant sit while you are away on vacation. So, I decided since the title of my posting had morning glory in it, I should at least know a little something about them. Thank goodness for Wikipedia. I looked it up and it's crazy fitting! Morning glories are exactly like the crazy stories that I attach to in my very busy mind.

According to Wikipedia, morning glories are described as developing “thick roots and tend to grow in dense thickets. They can quickly spread by way of long creeping stems. By crowding out, blanketing and smothering other plants, morning glory has turned into a serious invasive weed problem.” They are just like my stories! My stories tend to develop thick roots. They tend to grow in a busy mind. If I entertain them they spread quickly. My stories often crowd out and smother other nice, beautiful, peaceful thoughts….my stories are an invasive weed problem”. Who knew?

Do the stories of our past have to define us? I’m convinced if I hold onto my stories that I end up suffering. In fact, I wish we could have an on/off switch in our brains to help stop the story makin’ machine. Actually, I can’t think of a single good reason to have an “on” switch to the story makin’ machine.

My story making machine has led me to believe I am afraid of wasps. Why am I afraid of them? I am afraid of them because when I was seven one stung me on the nose as I was jumping off the diving board in Kentucky. It’s true. It did happen and it did hurt. I remember it like it was yesterday. I have held onto that story for over 30 years and now…I am a person who is afraid of wasps. That’s my story. With that being part of the story of Ami, I am a bit of a freak whenever a wasp flies up onto our beautiful front porch. In fact, last week I was enjoying breakfast (and a fascinating conference call) on the porch. A wasp flew up. One wasp. It was no where near me. I went inside. Without that story, I might have continued enjoying my morning on the porch. The only thing buzzing that morning was my head…continuing the story of Ami, who is afraid of wasps.

We can take every single event that has occurred in our lifetime, attach it to our identity and KABOOM….we are our story. We can choose to believe we are our story or we can inquire about the true nature of who we are.

What’s your story morning glory?
Who would you be right this very second without your story?