This weekend, I was at a church. It was my first time going to a church by myself, and not as a tourist. I went there in search of something. Meaning. Solace. Faith. Something.
My takeaway from the rather inspiring sermon was “Stories we tell ourselves” and “And do those stories help us grow?”
I lot of how we see the world is a function of the narrative in our heads. Yes, tragedies do befall us, and successes happen. But its really the stories we tell ourselves later that matter the most.
“How did I contribute to my success?”
Am I grateful? Or is it just a feather in my cap? Do I take my success for granted?
“How do I perceive a great tragedy?”
This is something that I am struggling with now. I swing from “empowered warrior” to “Devastated victim”, sometimes many times in a day.
Empowered warrior: “Life is a beautiful gift. Savor it despite your tragedies. Experience the many joys it can offer. Fight for your self, your son, and for the time you will be happy again”
Devastated Victim: “I cannot believe the ease with which she walked away from it all. I sacrificed so much. I love her so much. I feel like a failure”
Its sometimes difficult for me to imagine, that those voices are both me. That I identify to deeply with both of them. I expect these alter-egos will struggle for quite some time to come. I will lend them voices occasionally. But I know which one I am rooting for.