Reflection 3 Let the Stories Go

Now may be the time
to gently examine the stories
you carry about your life.

Think of something that asks for forgiveness—
from yourself, or from another.
Allow space for that forgiveness to begin.

Bring to mind the confusion,
the old wounds,
the pain that has been with you for so long.
Look at it with compassion, not judgment.

You have gathered many memories—
fragments of time, layered together
to form the narrative of your life.
These stories have shaped you,
and have given meaning to your journey.

Your stories matter.
They deserve to be heard.
But telling them is not about proving a point,
or justifying a belief.

It’s about opening the heart.
It’s about allowing yourself
to feel the emotions beneath the words.

To acknowledge the wounds,
the thoughts, the truths
that have waited for your attention.

Yes, the pain was real.
Yes, your experiences were valid.
Let them be honored—not denied.

And then ask:
How might I remember this differently?
How might I release this story,
so it no longer defines who I am?

You are not your pain.
You are not the story.
You are the one who can choose
to hear, to heal, and to let go.

When the wounds are tended to,
when the heart has been heard,
the stories can finally rest.

Let them go.

For more, read on into the essay that inspired this poem…

Reflection 3  Let the Stories Go

“Let nothing disturb thee, let nothing affright thee. All things are passing. Patience obtains all things.” –Teresa of Avila

Recently retired, I find myself in the early stages of a “life review”. I am examining and confronting my past, sometimes courageously and other times in fear and trepidation. I am reviewing both my childhood and adult years, personal and work lives, in search of patterns and connections. I am identifying and reliving decisions made at crucial turning points. Some I celebrate and others I’ve later regretted due to my lack of maturity and foresight. A part of me is still in the past, things that happened years ago, from work and career. Some changes were those that I chose. Other decisions were made by others.

As I tell my story let me be clear. I am not a victim. A victim is someone who has no control or power over their circumstances. As circumstances and situations changed, I made new decisions for my life and the life of my family. In my growing-up years, I was fortunate to live in a nice neighborhood, attend middle-class public schools, and have the support of a loving family. On the other hand, I had little control over some very important events that determined my life and personality, such as my early years in a fundamentalist church and my scoliosis-curved spine. Of course, it can be argued that, as an adult, I did have control over my schooling and employment. Yet now I see that I made choices out of limited knowledge and life patterns— many learned in childhood.

Now we strive to recontextualize our lives. By recontextualizing I mean that I am striving to reframe both my imagined as well as my real mistakes and failures. To put to rest the what-ifs and should-haves of a lifetime to find peace and self-acceptance.

Now it’s your turn.

Take time to reflect and if in a group, share as you feel able.

The statement that best fits is:

a)    I’m examining my past-- sometimes courageously and other times hesitantly.

b)    I’m identifying and reliving decisions made at crucial turning points.

c)    I still think a lot about the past; things that happened years ago.

d)    As I strive to recontextualize my life I put to rest the what-ifs and should-haves.