Trolling around on the internets this afternoon and kind of randomly came across some thoughts that really resonated with me.
Regular readers will have discerned that I’ve been struggling a little bit with figuring out my way ahead after some rather unfortunate setbacks. But progress continues apace and I’m generally cautiously optimistic about the future. In fact, leaving my life of failure here in Korea is a huge step forward.
My new life in the Philippines is a story waiting to be written. Which is a good thing, because the content here at LTG has been depressingly repetitive, even by my low standards. So many questions waiting to be answered–where will I live? How will I achieve purpose and meaning in my life? Will I find love, or more precisely, will love find me again? Stay tuned, the adventure will be beginning in a mere 56 days.
Anyway, as I mentioned I found some nuggets of wisdom from a guy in Alabama named David McElroy. In one piece, McElroy posits that “you can change your story, but you first must throw away the old ones”. Easier said than done for me, as I’m still trying to figure out if some of the old stories are truly finished. More on that to come. Here’s the part that really spoke to me the most:
“As I listened to the stories of people dealing with their losses, it hit me out of the blue that I shared something in common with these folks. The story I’ve told myself about my life has gone off track and it no longer even makes sense. As a result, I’m suffering depression from the loss of an unrealized life that meant so much to me — a narrative that’s no longer my future.
In a flash, I realized that I don’t have just one story. Over the course of my life, I’ve had at least half a dozen different narratives — and every time something has fallen apart, I’ve gone through a fallow period that felt like death — and then I’ve emerged with a new narrative that let me move on.
I now have no choice but to write a new narrative.
About four years ago, I fell in love — and that love came with a brand new narrative. I saw all the details in my mind. It was so clear and complete. I had a brand new narrative about what my life was going to be. And then the story went off the rails. Like a mourning husband whose wife has died, I hung onto that story, though. For all this time, I’ve treaded water — cut off from the story that meant so much to me, but unable to give it up.
It’s time for me to write a new story for myself, but in order to do that, I have to give up on things which have died — things I couldn’t control.
There’s no brilliant insight in deciding that one must move on in life after a crushing loss, but until the mind is ready for it, there’s no sense in someone saying, “You need to move on.” But something in me is ready — at least for the most part — to start fresh. Even if that means giving up on the fantasy of being loved and needed by someone who meant the world to me.
I don’t know exactly what my new narrative needs to be. I don’t know what my new identity is. I know that bits and pieces of past narratives will be woven into the new story, but it will be an entirely different narrative, at least when taken as a whole.
It’s painful to give up a life I desperately wanted and needed — especially with nothing yet to take its place — but I’m coming to see that I have to give up on something I can’t control. I have to find a new narrative about where I’m going and what I’m going to do — and, hopefully, who will be coming along for the adventure with me.
It’s time for a narrative that will let me start over. One more time.”
So yeah, that’s what the Philippines represents to me, my new narrative. Getting out of this purgatory that is my life here in Anjeong-ri will be a blessing, regardless of whether I find heaven or hell in Olongapo. I’m moving forward, that’s what matters most.
“Choosing a life of safety is safely choosing something other than life.”
― Craig D. Lounsbrough
That’s another quote I randomly found today. And wait! There’s more:
“That’s the nice thing about being human. We only have one life, but we can choose what kind of story it’s going to be.”
― Rick Riordan, The Hidden Oracle
Or how about this:
“Your task is not to seek for love, but merely to seek and find all the barriers within yourself that you have built against it.”
Hope springs eternal and all that. Perhaps what has been lost will one day be found again.