What’s Your Choice?

I’m sitting in my local café, you know, my second
office.  It’s the place I come when I need some
space and inspiration.  Strangely enough the
bustle, movement and background music gives me the
peace and quiet I need to write.

The space is right, the deadline is here (and I
love deadlines, they never fail to get me into
action) and the music is great!

I’m in such a place of serene calm that each idea
that surfaces just makes me smile and the page
remains blank.

Every now and then email arrives in that 2 second
flash at the bottom of my screen; enough to take
notice and see the first few words, not enough to
know the full content.  The email tells me that my
website is being erratic, my assistant is trying
to resolve a problem, a client has a query, and my
students are submitting material for review. 
And I’m distracted enough not to write, but
remain in the calm space of the blank page. 

And then the story pieces start to show up…..

We met after many months.  I adore his energy,
his humor.  He is smart, original and his work is
so important…..and he’s broke.  He’s SO good at
what he does, and no one knows him.  He’s
convinced that his story is fine…yet he’s still
struggling and telling himself more
self-sabotaging stories.

She is flying high on the salary, the car, the
great bonuses and the drugs.  No, she doesn’t call
them drugs, it’s just to get a handle on the
migraines and the pressure.  She’s loving life so
hard, it’s killing her and every time she sees a
movie, she cries.  A little girl still waiting for
daddy to approve of her…

He’s 10 years old and tells me that when he’s
really tired he just sits on the ground with his
legs crossed and imagines the light entering each
part of his body.  Starting from his feet and
going right up to his head.  It lights him up and
relaxes him, when he opens his eyes he feels much
better.  I said, you’re amazing, you’ve taught
yourself what takes most people years, to
meditate.  And he shrugs and says, must have
learnt it in my past life…

She exercises regularly, eats healthily and
sleeps like a log.  She’s super-organized,
remembers everything and never makes mistakes.
She’s always on time, reminds everyone else about
their commitments and bakes her own bread.  She
craves cigarettes and smokes whenever no one is
looking.

The stories are all around us.  Some fact, some
told, some ignored and some assumed. 
They are the people we know, the stories they
tell us and the stories they tell themselves.
They are the stories that create our reality, from
them and for us.

Did you find you?  Did you find someone you know?
 
We always have a choice, the choice to tell
stories that keep us stuck, stories that hurt us,
or the empowering stories, stories that inspire
us.

What you’re choice?  What’s your story?

Go ahead and share one below.

Best wishes and best stories

Lisa

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3 comments on “What’s Your Choice?

  1. I love this piece, Lisa. Thank you.
    Long ago, when my life was falling apart and I had 3 young children to care for, I struggled so hard to “figure it all out”. I was supposed to have all the answers, wasn’t I? No one to turn to. My parents had told me they would always love to see me when things were going well. I got the message: “don’t bring us your problems”.
    One night when everything seemed hopeless and I was at the end of my rope, I sat in alone in my darkened bedroom, looking out the window into the dark and let it all go. I screamed into the night that I could not do this alone.
    It was pivotal. In letting go I found my way and what I needed to do became clear to me. I found purpose, direction and made critical choices foer me and my children in that moment.

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