When my children were young, I discovered a clever little series of books which, at certain points in the story, allowed the reader a number of choices regarding what the characters would do next. For example, their journey brings them to a river in flood. What will they do? Will they cross by the rickety bridge? Will they tie ropes around their waists and try to swim across, or will they turn back to look for a safer route? One decision would direct the reader to another page from where the story would continue based on what they had chosen. A different choice would take the story along in a quite different direction, and yet again, a third choice might bring the story to a sudden end.
Apart from some valuable lessons for children about choices and their repercussions, for parents, these books have the advantage of added value. Once the story is finished, the reader can start again from the beginning, make alternative choices, and voila, a whole new set of scenarios unfolds. The ending also, of course, is often also radically altered. How clever is that?
In life, choices we make impact on our own story in much the same way, except of course, we rarely get the chance for a rewrite. We don't get to revisit those decisions and we don't get to begin again. Our story keeps moving forward regardless. What we do get, are certain choices about how the rest of our story unfolds from this point on. Do we choose to keep moving forward, accepting the lessons of the past and attempting to write a brighter outcome from the scenario we have to work with? Do we alternatively bog down in regrets, guilt, bitterness or grief over the past and bring our story to a standstill? Fortunately, relatively few of us (though still way too many) choose the third alternative and end our story before it is complete.
Sadly, I have known a surprising number who seem to get stuck in one chapter and never seem able to move past it. Somehow, they got lost in the echoing canyons of "If onlys" and "Might have beens". Instead of the focus being on the chapter they can write today or the scenario they can start building for tomorrow, the focus remains resolutely on the past. "Writer's block" becomes their permanent state of being.
Highs and lows, joy and sorrow, celebration and grief are as much a part of the human condition as they are the ingredients of a good story. They are the building blocks that shape who we are and who we will become. They can make or break us, but the resolution of the plot is of our own choosing.
Will we emerge as the hero of the victim? Will the outcome of our story be an inspiration to others or a maudling "Somebody done somebody wrong song"?
That choice is always ours.
Apart from some valuable lessons for children about choices and their repercussions, for parents, these books have the advantage of added value. Once the story is finished, the reader can start again from the beginning, make alternative choices, and voila, a whole new set of scenarios unfolds. The ending also, of course, is often also radically altered. How clever is that?
In life, choices we make impact on our own story in much the same way, except of course, we rarely get the chance for a rewrite. We don't get to revisit those decisions and we don't get to begin again. Our story keeps moving forward regardless. What we do get, are certain choices about how the rest of our story unfolds from this point on. Do we choose to keep moving forward, accepting the lessons of the past and attempting to write a brighter outcome from the scenario we have to work with? Do we alternatively bog down in regrets, guilt, bitterness or grief over the past and bring our story to a standstill? Fortunately, relatively few of us (though still way too many) choose the third alternative and end our story before it is complete.
Sadly, I have known a surprising number who seem to get stuck in one chapter and never seem able to move past it. Somehow, they got lost in the echoing canyons of "If onlys" and "Might have beens". Instead of the focus being on the chapter they can write today or the scenario they can start building for tomorrow, the focus remains resolutely on the past. "Writer's block" becomes their permanent state of being.
Highs and lows, joy and sorrow, celebration and grief are as much a part of the human condition as they are the ingredients of a good story. They are the building blocks that shape who we are and who we will become. They can make or break us, but the resolution of the plot is of our own choosing.
Will we emerge as the hero of the victim? Will the outcome of our story be an inspiration to others or a maudling "Somebody done somebody wrong song"?
That choice is always ours.