Writing our memoir. . . Saving our lives

I found that remembering and then writing about my past, particularly the parts that were grim or embarrassing or sometimes even shameful; released me from their hold.  We cannot be held hostage by any thing or any one without our consent.  That’s not an easy idea to believe when first introduced to it.  I had never ever thought of “hostage” in those terms.  But I was a hostage for sure.  I lived in the shame of my past for many years.  And telling all of it, every last part of it to any one any where seemed fool-hardy.  Just the opposite is true, in fact.  And only when you give the exercise a try will you believe it for yourself.

I really can’t encourage you enough about making a commitment to undertaking this worthy tribute to yourself.  You deserve to celebrate all of who you were, and are now.  I don’t  believe we can see where we need to go next without a command of our past.  We need not dwell on the troubling parts but recognize that they did play a part, a very important part, in getting us to this point.  I am constantly reminded, and then reminding others too, that not a single part of the past can or should be denied.  Each thread of it has contributed to the beautifully colored tapestry that is our life today.

I’m reminded of the book by spiritual intuitive Carolyn Myss: Sacred Contracts, in which she posits that all of our experiences here on this earthy plain have been selected by us in concert with those souls who will be a “part of the dance” when we meet here.  Of course, we promptly forget the contract once it has been made, she says.

When I first read her words, and even when I heard her speak, I was more than a bit doubtful that what “she preached” could be true.  Since that time I have decided that true or not (we’ll never know for sure until we get to the other side any way), it offers me some comfort, particularly when I consider some of the more troubling experiences I did have.  If they were meant for my growth and ultimate forgiveness of self and others, as she posited, and for the growth of my “dance partner” too, it seemed okay.  Reasonable, in fact.  I relaxed with the information and my life moved forward in a far more peaceful manner.

I would not have come to terms with much of my past had I not spent so much time over the years of my recovery seeking to accept it, to know God more intimately in the process, and to then willingly share it with others in order to be of service to them.  That’s what we do, isn’t it?  We live our lives and then share them in order to help some one else live theirs.  Passing it on.  Paying it forward, as they say.  And the human community is all the better for it.


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