Saturday, September 23, 2006

telling yourself a story

do people grow into themselves?

No seriously, I'm not trying to make a flower-analogi here in order to say something about how people grow and become better people, its not about better or worse, its about fate.

in a an overnatural, religious, spiritual way I'm rather doubtful that fate even exist. In the sense that we are destined for something, somewhere or even someone. Its so often an excuse or an explanation that, to me, only scrathes the surface. fate is somehow a responsibilty defier defice: "I can not help being who I am/doing what I do, its fate, I'm destined to be here, do this".

And then theres the boarderline coinsedence/fate incidences. "Wow, we met right here right now when I was thinking of you." "You called the second I thought I¨d call you". "It must be love at first sight, fate brought us together". How can anyone really say that the experience of something so spiritual or emotional is really just a coninsedence? When it feels more like the universe has taken over and guided you or showed you what you need, who you are.

But these are all things we can discuss and maybe never agree on, or maybe never feel the same about. Its all about the intensity of the experience I guess, and the framework you put it into, what you believe in... But one thing I've felt rather intensly lataly. Maybe its just growing up, I don't know, but my friends are turning into certain versions of themselves. I swear now, in the enlightend vision of hindsight, that I could have said all those years ago that off course that is how they would turn out. Its so obvious somehow, or is it just me? The caring personality traits of one friend turned her into a mother at an early stage. The restless, witty trait of another friend, turned her into a comedian without a job. The self-critical academic mind of a third friend, turned her into an ambisious, never-really-satisfies researcher. I look around myself and I look at these people that turned their lives into an expression of who they told themselves they were and i'm amazed. Is it fate, or is it just as simple as the theory of the narrative says. (shooo I could not find a good website explaining the theory.. Sorry... But if you do, let me know)

We all tell ourselves and others stories of ourselves (and others). We can distort our stories, lie and tell half truths. To a certain extent i guess we all lie. Or maybe we're just blind to ourselves? Cause looking at all my friens, thinkink "doh, off course thats who they should be", I, at the same time, cannot for the life of me understand how anyone can think the same of me. To me, I'm complex and living with opposites, torn between so many choices ant wants, that a straight line seems almost like a contradiction to who I am. And yet I know, I tell stories about me to, and maybe my story, my red line in life is my own desire to be complex. And therefor, I am simpe...

My friends took a side of themself, watered it, let it grow, and flowered. They are more happy, I see that easily. They are content with having left adolenscence behind, and the consant strive for the red line in their story. However, we loose something as we content ourself with the one story. We loose the willingness to explore the infinite possiblities of who we can be. I believe its a choice. If we stick with one story we might be contnent, even happy. Thats why Ibsen said: Take the lifelie away from a person, you take away his life as well. Or we can stick with trying to develop our story all the time. I believe it leads to frustration, to confusion. I believe artist, ideologists, visionaries struggle to develop the story but end up being discontent because the only truth is the one you tell yourself and believe it. I believe the great thinkings that suffered, did not do it for one idea, even if it might seem so, I think they suffered in order to dissolve, change and alter ideas. They might be in the search of truth, but (if we follow narrative therory), it does not exist outside oneself, and you're therefore bound to enter into a war you'll loose. But doing anything else is mediocrity. Its what we call a mediocre life.

I've had these thought for a while. i do not know if they explain themselves on paper as I want them to do, but feel ovwewhelmed at the idea of not expressing them. I'm a searcher for stories, and one the the ultimate story will dawn on me or occur to me. I know. And then you'll all hear it. And the world will be different. I know. :-)

5 comments:

Aasa said...

Weare so many expressions with popele. One person can make this side of you come out, on prson the other. It is alwasy ahrd to say that you "know" somebody in my eyes.
Also we are alwasy in a stream, and never fixed as persons.
Maybe ssome things we hold on to, some ideas we identify with strongly. Do that make those ideas us?
It is interesting quiestions you make, but I feel that amybe when you amke them into words they loose something, or maybe I am wrong.
It sounds a little "narrow"...a littel too simple, as you say.
Its like the example withthe mother. You take a thing you knwo about her and interpret it in your way fitting the situation. Onterpretations are alwasy subjective , een though they can touch truths.
I think I need to think more about this
Tahk you for the post
:)

Ejlis said...

Thank you for your comment! But i disagree. To say its hard to say you know somebody is a pretty isolationist way to look at human relationships. Sure, you are not fixed, sure you always evolve, but there are people I let in, and who know me. And I claim i "know" some people rather well. But thats not the point of my text. The text is an expression of the wonders of "growing into yourself", being who you were ment to be. So many of my friends seems so much happier, more open and content than they did just a few years ago. And their choices of education, lifestyles, lovers/no lovers seems to please them now, in opposition to earlier. They have grown as people (just as you say), but what they have grown into are rooted in their pasts. The painting they paint of themselves are based on the sketches they made years ago so to speak... And maybe you can claim that it is to fit a picture to what i know, but the thing is: I'm surprised by not being confirmed in what I know. People are NOT like they were ten years ago, but they are more grown up, more secure, more happy versions of themselves. Maybe its narrow, but to me its a wonder how people grow to be so happy just by being an almost perfect version of themselves...

Aasa said...

HM, Well, the thing about knowing somebody for real can be subjective in a way. I have often had that feeling with some people, but then everybody have different standards of closeness too :)
But as you said, that was tracking off the point....
Is it really a small thing to grow into your own frame? And is it really a frame, if not a large expandable pattern? If I understand you right, but I am not quite sure I do, I do agree in some point. I think the past and what we carry with us is crucial to who we are today. Still, the choices we take every day on how to handle that very past we are dragging with us is far more important. And then there is the element that is very important. Do we see this past we are taking with us or do we just walk with it instinctively and suconciously?
I guess if its the last version it is easy to be predictable. Then you can understand the pattern, and maybe that is what you are good at.
I don't know, just a guess
:)

Ejlis said...

I think you're right about that. That its easier to see patterns if the person is not aware of them. Thats what I try to say in the last part of the text, that patterns that do not evolve is linked to mediocrity and often happiness - that is my claim at least. Being aware of your own pattern is sort of painful because it makes you focus on change and increases your selfawareness and somehow disconnects you from everyday routine. It can be lonely. But it can also lead to greatness. This is the problem with the stories we tall ourselves. I saw "villanden" yesterday and Gregers try to change and make Hjalmar see the lies of his own story because he wants him to be great, but instead he falls to the dogs. Something that tells me that its only you who can question your own story, only you who can be prepared to look at your own story. It somehow like being an alchoholic, you cannot change until you realise you are one. And sooo many people do not want to or are not aware that they should or can question their own story. I think you react to this because you yourself work on your own story all the time, and therefor you see it as somehow unfair to be viewed in a pattern. And I agree, you are so much more than your pattern, than your story.. But it is after all striking to notice patterns in others, notice them change and notice them stay the same. It tells me something about the people around me. And it tells me alot about whether I can be a "gregers" in their life or only a "relling". And this is important to me in order to actually respect boudaries and to what limits I can take my involvement. I guess in the end, it comes back to what you said first: subjectivity...

Aasa said...

YUpp!
Totally
Thanks for the post and the thoughts
:)
Hugs