"For every mortal in search of who and why he was born there is a conspiracy of witnesses who may not have been there at all.  A bit of the teller's dream of himself goes into every answer. There are always circumstances which are indiscernible, and the truth is in their shadow." 
Dorothy Salisbury Davis

"There are three sides to every story: your side, my side, and the truth. And no one is lying. Memories shared serve each differently."
Robert Evans

A BIT OF the tellers tale goes into each story. When we are telling stories we can’t help but put ourselves into it somewhere in one way or another. Whether it is as the cursed prince or princess or the one who comes to save the one who is cursed, or whether we are the witch who does the cursing, or the poor king and his wife who lose their children to the witch’s enchantment. Occasionally, we end up being the sentient animal – the wronged dragon or the sloth that comes to the rescue but is despised because it’s a sloth even though it’s saved everyone. In the end, we are always the hero of our own tale.

Here is an example:

Being totally irresponsible and childlike, I took his hand, ran out onto the new pavement where we stuffed tree and grass seeds into all the cracks.  Someday maybe a few of the seeds would start to grow, cracking the cement and giving new life to the earth. 

Rotten delinquents! They will ruin our walls and roads.

It is our story to tell and, in the end, it doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks. We are the hero of our own story. We are the ones who have to save ourselves. We are the ones who in the end have to save the world or so we think. We are the ones who have to save our loved ones. We are the ones who have to defeat the embarrassment and uncomfortable or the dark evil of misconceptions and misinterpretations of our lives when we allow other people to tell our story. 

Are you telling your story or allowing others to tell it for you?

A Different View

Sometime ago, many years, my nephew came into my room to check out the pictures on my wall. I was pleased.  I love when people look at the part of me I put up for myself but also for others to share.  The books and the pictures are my way of showing part of who I am.  They show the whimsical humorous side of me, the magical woo-woo side of me, beauty and mystery through my eyes, the intensity, the lightness and the connection of nature.  More than likely if you open on of the books you will see how my mind works.
The nephew came into the room quietly.  After a moment he got twitchy and put his head down shoulders up.  I asked him what was up?  He finally asked - why do you have that horrible, ugly, dark painting on your wall?  That took me totally by surprise for I look at Goya's View of Toledo as a lovely sunny picture.  It's just a print by the way.  Yes, it has dark greens and grays in it but dark, no.  So I explained to him what I saw. -See! It has sun coming through those billowing clouds and there's washerwomen at the river in the gorge below the town doing their chores in the newly emerged sunshine.  The stones of the city glow.  The radiance from the clouds is miraculous.  This picture makes me happy.  It makes me feel at home.
He looked dubious or skeptical perhaps circling his way from the painting then slouching out of the room. He was around age 11, I think.  I just couldn't imagine why he thought it was dark and ugly.
On thinking of this episode later I realize it's a good thing to take a second look at what's around you seeing it from another view.  Sometimes we are so wrapped up in our own views we forget that other people don't feel the same emotions we feel when we look at something.  They have different references that come from their own experiences.  My nephew was adopted from Guatemala when he was five or six.  While he did have a mother who loved him I'm told he ran the streets wild.  She chose to make an adoption plan for him.  She had many more children some who were also adopted out to the United States. I don't know if I'm correct at why he thought this painting had such a visceral reaction for him but I think he equated happy things with blue sky and bright colors.  I also expect that dark greens and grays held not so good memories for him.
Perhaps what we need to do is to seek out the why or how people are thinking. Discover the differences.  Feel what they may feel.
I wonder if the nephew still thinks View of Toledo is a horrible, ugly, dark picture at age 33?

The Teller's Tale

A bit of the teller's tale goes into each story.  When we tell stories we can't help but put ourselves into it somewhere in one way or another.  Whether it be as the cursed prince or princess or the one who came to save the one who is cursed or whether we are the witch who does the cursing or the poor king and his wife who lose their children to the witch's enchantment.  Occasionally we end up being the sentient animal - the wronged dragon or the sloth that comes to the rescue but is despised because it is a sloth even though it's saved everyone.  Often our story gets a bit warped from what others say.  Sometimes it gets distorted by what we believe of ourselves. 
But in the end we are always the hero in our own tale.

Even so it is our story to tell and in the end it doesn't matter what anyone else thinks.  We are the hero of our own story.  We are the ones who in the end have to save ourselves.  We are the ones who in the end have to save the world or so we think.  We are the ones who have to save our loved ones and we are the ones who have to defeat the embarrassment and uncomfortable or the dark evil of misconceptions and misinterpretations of our lives when we allow other people to tell our story.

Are you telling your story or letting others tell it for you?

"For every mortal in search of who and why he was born there is a conspiracy of witnesses who may not have been there at all.  A bit of the teller's dream of himself goes into every answer.  There are always circumstances which are indiscernible, and the truth is in their shadow."   Dorothy Salisbury Davis


My sister and I with potential stories.