Can We Really Change Our Stories?

Honestly, I consider storytelling one of our most powerful tools. Our stories define us and create the lives we live. Sometimes I wonder if, at least for me, that is why I carry the gift of being a high empath. People’s stories are pretty transparent when I open to them – and being a high empath, people easily share their stories with me. Because of this, I get a unique look at the world – I see the stories that show up again and again. I feel their pain, their joy, their confusion, ….
For years, I thought my job was to share these common stories so that people don’t feel alone. In recent years, my gifts as a storyteller have emerged and I thought this was so I could share and teach more effectively -through the use of story. Both of these roles are relevant, but lately it has become clear that there’s more to it.
Science is giving us back our stories. Biologist, Dr. Bruce Lipton challenges us not to act as victims of our genes, but rather to understand it is the environment in which the genes live that creates our reality. That environment stems from our thoughts and beliefs – (our stories). Researchers Candace Pert and Brené Brown link our emotions to our health and well-being. Our emotions and our stories cannot be separated. Physicist, Gregg Braden and Gary Zukav – thru the science of quantum mechanics – teach us that we will always find what we look for. It is the stories we carry and tell that become the lens through which we observe our lives. Cellular, emotional and quantum insights have inspired a new interest in the power of story.
We’re being invited to recognize the stories we carry and how we carry them – AND, we’re being encouraged to revise our stories so that they truly serve us. The energy of the recent solar eclipse significantly opened opportunities to reveal our truths to us – those energies are still active.
Yesterday, I was hit squarely in the eye by an old story – a painful one that shows up as a devastating thought. It goes something like this: Everyone wants a piece of me and no one can see that I’m sitting here bleeding. This is not an unusual feeling for an empath. It happens when we give and give without remembering to tend to our own needs. I never feel so alone in the world as when that thought comes knocking. It doesn’t happen often anymore, but yesterday, it busted the door open.
Those eclipse energies are helping us release stories that don’t serve us and showing us ways to move on. The really good news is…
We don’t need to wallow in the story or pick it apart until we’ve squeezed every last bit of awareness from it. We’ve spent the last several decades doing that, but it’s no longer helpful to us. The wallowing and picking just keep us in the story we no longer want to inhabit.
So how did I work with yesterday’s story? I felt it. It came as a perfect storm, where intellectualizing about it just wasn’t possible. I felt alone. I felt devastated by it. Usually, this story comes up as a direct result of some specific interaction with people. I get angry, blame them, swear to myself I’ll never help again and hide in my own corner of the world for a few days. When I was a teenager I went to the basement and blasted “I Wanna Be Somebody’s Baby” until I felt better.
Yesterday, there was no incident and no one to attach my feelings to – no one except me. I was the one who didn’t know I was bleeding; I didn’t notice.
In the last few weeks, I’ve been highly focused on learning social media marketing to promote my books and business. I was staggering under a list of to-dos that will never end. I pressured myself to post, blog and make videos; to design classes and meet with people – all so that I could continue doing what I love.
I love writing, storytelling and teaching. I’m learning marketing so that I can do what I love. Yet, in the last few weeks, I’ve done very little of what I love. In fact, the only place I was in the joy was when I was engaging with the community on my Facebook Group: Psychics, Intuitives, Empaths & Sensitives. That was the only place I was engaging in the magic of what I do.
With all this revelation, I couldn’t help but ask the question, “Have I always been the one who didn’t know I was bleeding?” My truth: I’ve always been one of the ones who didn’t know I was bleeding.
Yes, my sense of devastation and feeling alone deepened a notch or two. I sat there with tears rolling down my cheeks. What do I need to do to change this?
Because I felt a little helpless around answering this question, I metaphorically threw up my hands in defeat and continued crying. And then, something wonderful happened…
The thought came again and this time the story felt like a caress. I was shocked and I tried to push it away; I did not want this thought/story to be part of my life. But it was fierce and stood its ground, at the same time it emitted loving energy. Somehow, I heard it tell me, “I am your ally. I’m here in service to you.”
Shock and confusion can be wonderful things when a well trenched story needs to change. I shook my head and thought, what the fuck?!  (I rarely use the F word, except when I’m very stressed.)
I was at a loss; I had no idea what to do? And that’s when my resistance yielded and this new story could take root. My truth: this thought is an ally – a fierce one that knows how to get my attention and put me on alert. It only visits when I’ve missed earlier warning signs, like “I’m really tired,” and “I’d like to escape to …..”
the story matrix
This thought that I’m bleeding and everyone wants a piece of me is no longer a story about being used up, ignored and underappreciated by my friends/family/community. This ally, this fierce and loving ally, shows up as a thought to tell me I need to take care of myself, now.
I hope that I never see this ally again. And, I am deeply grateful to know she will show up, if necessary and lovingly order me back into balance.
While I’m sharing gratitude, here’s a shout out to Barry Manilow, who always noticed I was bleeding and sent me his music and lyrics as a balm. He raged with me in “I Wanna Be Somebody’s Baby”  and inspired me to give things another shot with “One Voice”.
Here’s to all our allies and here’s hoping we see them clearly.  Much love to you all! ~ Lena

2 thoughts on “Can We Really Change Our Stories?

  1. Wow, I imagine this shifting as the wind combing thru your body as you are falling from the Green Cliffs
    of Moher…combing out all that is choking and clogging your brilliant light. Love how what we resist and feel battered by becomes transformed as our ally. Good on you for remaining still and not struggling or hiding. It gifts Courage to me to be still in that painful edginess until Love breaks thru and holds me until I am done crying and I can move thru that “Story Portal” to a New Land. AHHHH.


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