Live, love, laugh is the popular brandish of a good motivational conversation but not everyone knows in detail what each component represents, nor can they, since living connotes different things to various people, love comes in diverse forms and people do not necessarily find the same things funny.
How then do we strive to fit into a categorization?
Have you noticed that you tell the same story in different ways depending on the audience?
To some friends, you share the most intricate details of the event… To some, you share the vulnerable moments, you share your shame, and yet to others, you simply state facts.
In another conversation, you repeat the story vaguely, a curated version you are comfortable masking behind.
That’s the adultery of our memories, constantly changing patterns and narration, watering down the integrity of our experiences because not every audience can adapt to the tale and we can only rely on our instincts hoping we are right about who we trust with our scars and vulnerable spots.
Does this make us a fluke?
No, it makes us human, guarded and flawed. Awesome in flaws-flawsome.
Lately, I have been thinking maybe if we can walk through the shame we’d be able to tell our stories with unwaivering courage.
Maybe it is not just shame that makes us hide away from telling the story as is, maybe it is the need to preserve a little bit of ourselves that we consider most precious for fear of all we stand to lose when it is our heart on the line.
I heard that the dash on the tombstone represents the time we spent alive (1985-2062). The dash is really short but it is a sum total of living, loving, and laughter. The question is how do we spend this brief dash, living, loving, and laughing?
Sincerely,
From an overthinker 😂
Connoisseur of Memories 