I’ve been experimenting some other sorts of writing/thinking recently. Here is part of the fruit of that.
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Think back on your life. How old are you? No, don’t tell me. It doesn’t matter. Think of your very first memory. And now look at where you are. How did you get here? What did you overcome? What challenges did you face? What did you conquer? What conquered you?
Think about all of these things. They are your story, your own personal story. No one else has one exactly like yours. This is because you are unique. But then you already do that. We are all told that from the moment we learn to listen.
Except you aren’t so unique. Sort of. The reason you aren’t so unique is that everyone has a story. I’m willing to bet you haven’t realized that. It’s okay if you haven’t. Most people don’t in their entire lifetimes. They think that everybody else make up the bit parts in their lives, flat characters who pass in and out of their stories, while remaining static when not in their ranges of experience.
Remember when you thought back to your beginning? That is now part of your story, but it isn’t what I wanted to draw attention to. Now, if you will, consider a family.
This is an average American family, with one son, one daughter, a husband and a wife. The children are in their teens. Typical enough. Now consider that each of those people has a first memory as well. Each of them also have their own stories and backgrounds and tales. And each of those stories is filled with characters.
But they aren’t just characters. They are all people, each with their own stories and backgrounds and tales. And each of these stories is filled with characters.
See where this is headed?
Some of these stories at nearing their end.
Some will end early in a rush of fire or under the palor of disease. Others will continue on into decades and decades and decades, until their stories become legends rather than just accounts of a life. It is these elevated stories which guide the stories of those that come after them.
Some stories will end happily, full of love and affection right up until the very end.
Some stories will end tragically, with their lead characters bitter, cynical and wishing for a happily ever after, even though one will never come for them.
Recall, if you will, our family. You haven’t forgotten about them, have you? I hope not. Flash them forward 15 years. Just fifteen years. The children are now grown and are starting families of their own. Their children are just getting to the age where they too can remember their first memories. With this remembrance comes a special gift. The children of the children remember their parents, who in turn remember their parents who remember their parents, who remember their parents (though their stories have now ended). In life, they remembered their parents, and so on. Contained within each memory is another memory, and in that, another. There are memories of memories of memories that are the original memories of the beginning.
Stories don’t end, do you see? They simply move on and pick new characters.
Take my hand. Let’s start a story of our own.