Sometimes the story someone is telling, isn't the true story.
All stories are true... I say this, but sometimes, the story being told is covering the true story. The story I'm telling is only one layer of the story, perhaps. Or it's the skin of the Lindorm, and I need a big pot of strong lye and a pile of scrub brushes to get down to the truth.
Do you get what I'm not saying?
Sometimes, I'm smiling and saying how well everything is going, and how good things are, and that is true. And perhaps underneath it all, it is true, deep and shining and secret. But in all the inbetween layers between the skin and the beating, pulsing heart, there is rot and fear and desperation. That is true, too.
I need a pot of lye. I need a stack of scrub brushes and a whole protective wardrobe of nightshirts to get through it sometimes.
There is good news -- I have been selected as a Calof Emerging Artist Fellow by Story Arts of Minnesota for 2014. You can read what that entails on their website. It's a lovely honor, and a gateway into the storytelling community. It is not a job or a grant or a stipend. But it seriously rocks.
So today, when someone tells you their story, and you can see that fear and get a whiff of the rot underneath, know that the shining is waiting within, under the layers. But also know that the layers are true, and really have to be acknowledged.
Hi. That's me. I write, sometimes, about parenting, storytelling, and about living a life with stories.