Addicted to Story

When was the last time you had a conversation and no one related a story? My guess? Never. Whether we talk about our jobs or our last trip to the store or the latest sports scores, stories emerge. We share our lives, our interactions with others, our impressions. Each of those moments is a story. Even our gossip around the proverbial water-cooler emerges into story.

This quote says we are addicted to story and in terms of addiction being "...a persistent, compulsive dependence on a behavior..." that is certainly the case.

Yesterday, I wrote about a friend's upcoming choices regarding a gift of travel. I asked her to keep me informed about her decision. My reason for asking? My personal addiction to story. I want to know the rest of it. What did she decide? Why did she make that decision? How did she let Uncle Joe know? If she chose to go, where would they go? and when? Did she have a picture of the rented house? For me, the story ~ HER story ~ is what's of interest. Yes, I'd love to do the travel myself, but that's not the point, is it? The point is in the tale.

That's how we share our lives and how we share in the lives of others. We watch TV shows for their drama and the relationships they build whether the shows are soap operas, sitcoms, dramas or reality shows. More and more books are being written as part of at least a trilogy. Even when we realize the storyline itself in the shows or books is less than stellar, we want to know the tale: What's happening to whom? Why did it happen? Where might it go from here? It is our drive to know more, to hear the next installment, that keeps us involved ~ with books, with TV shows and with the people around us.

What do you value about story? How do you get your story fix? Do you feel the draw ~ the addiction ~ to story? What do you do satisfy that draw? How do you add to others batch of stories?

Loving the Fool

Think about the lessons you were taught as you grew up ~ the scripts that repeat themselves in your ear every time you move slightly off point. Sometimes they were overt statements made by a chastising parent or an angry sibling. Sometimes they were literally scripted by teachers, professors and mentors guiding us along the way. Sometimes they were delivered with all the flamboyance of the religious sermon they were designed to be. The words spoken, yelled or intoned were generally well meant, intended to provide us with a framework for social interactions.

My first reading of this quote had only the first half:

"I must learn to love the fool in me -- the one who feels too much, talks too much, takes too many chances, wins sometimes and loses often, lacks self-control, loves and hates, hurts and gets hurt, promises and breaks promises, laughs and cries."

The words wash over me like a wave in Mama Ocean, knocking me over and leaving me reeling from their power. Loving "the fool in me" was a truly new concept. All those pieces, the ones that I label good and the ones that I label bad, all those swings from one extreme to another, all of it was ~ and is ~ worthy of love. Worthy of my own love. Wow. That stuns me.

The next segment appeared in a more recent version:

"It alone protects me against that utterly self-controlled, masterful tyrant whom I also harbor and who would rob me of human aliveness, humility, and dignity but for my fool."

That "fool in me" ~ the one I must learn to love ~ also encourages me to allow my too strong feelings and accept my lack of self-control for the sake of my own humanity. She protects me from my overbearing and pretentious self who resides beside her in my soul.

These words lap at my ankles, rising and falling with the tide, keeping the fool afloat and the tyrant at bay. I recognize the power-play within me. As I lean in to embrace ~ and love ~ the fool in me, the power of the tyrant diminishes.

What do you know of the fool within yourself? How do you assist the fool? the tyrant? What do you feel as you read the words of the quote? How will you continue to grow in loving the fool within?