In the mystical inlets of my being there lives a little nymph I named Violette. She is the best in me. She’s an old-time storyteller, one who desires to change the world for the better through the weavings of her mind. Her desire to come into her own was conceived when I read Jonathan Livingston Seagull by Richard Bach years ago. First, she wanted to learn to fly. In so doing, she longed to teach others to do the same, like Jonathan did.
As she ventured out of the hamlet she called home, her innocence was battered again and again by events in her life. Some of the difficulties she encountered, she triggered herself, like we all do, and some were thrust upon her. She struggled through it all, and when she did, she found impetus to write. Everything is fodder for the writer. As she came into being and sprouted her own wings, she and I became one.
Sometimes one event alters the rest of one’s life. So it was for me and my inner Violette. My brother literally triggered the change. He shot and killed his neighbors on a damp, cold night. As I helped my loving parents through this horrific tragedy, I came to know that I must write the story of what it was like from the killer’s family’s point of view. With my first book on the subject I taught myself … Continue reading
“The word that can be spoken is not the true word.” – Lao Tzu
In my version of the People’s Story we were all born into a guessing game in which reality is continuously poking us with the question – “What should you do?” Through both our actions and our inactions, we are continuously responding, and those responses have consequences. We can choose to believe anything we wish, but we cannot escape the consequences of our choices.
Story is how we model the stimulus/response/consequences experience of our existence. Our story controls our understanding of the stimulus, which controls our response, which affects the consequences of our response. No one is born with good judgment. Our judgment evolves as our story evolves.
When I was six years old my brother told me that there was no Santa Claus. In one moment, I moved from inside of a story where Santa Claus was absolutely true, out into a story where it was all a vast conspiracy of lies designed to control my behavior. In the flash of epiphany, I caught the pattern. My story controlled my perceptions, which controlled my actions, which controlled my consequences. In that same flash of epiphany, I caught the geometry of motion, from inside of smaller false story, out into a larger truer story. It was the “Santa Claus Shift” that launched me on my life journey outward through story space to investigate the story of how story evolves. I just completed a “solution memoir” about this journey, The Game of Guessing Right, that … Continue reading