My #1 December intention – – to flip from looking backward from a whackadoodle personal mythology (pm) to the present moment celebration of ground-breaking on my Personal Legend (PL).
You’d think it would have dawned on me pre-2017 that stories tagged to each member of & our family in general would naturally transcribe from clan lore to personal myth. Nope – took me unawares, realizing I no longer had to hear a family member fling a comment to go to pieces. The messages were recorded in my brain, often playing on a continual loop.
Mom & I first read about the power of the family myth back in the early 1990s. Was it Nathaniel Branden or John Bradshaw or someone else? Whichever author, he grabbed our attention – we read & discussed it together, seeing in our own experiences the impact of stories with the weight of truth, so potent that even people outside the family interpreted us in the light of the myths.
All families have some form of fables explaining foibles & quirks, but mine seems especially strong. The tales are too numerous, too whackadoodle, too damaging to all to recount. Best leave their roots lost in the far off mists of my family’s past.
As for me – let the trumpets sound that I could, finally, step away from the power of the family myth, seeing that the tales told laid things out in ways that transformed the unbearable into the acceptable. Still, it was only this past summer that it hit me how tightly I still clung to my own personal myth, to hurtful fragments of stories told about me through the ages. A shocker to realize that – at 65+ – in many ways,I still see myself as I’ve been portrayed for eons by a few. Less, UN, Xed.
My goal for the coming weeks is to close this Year of Rising Strong with a ROAR of accomplishment, directed at giving those debilitating stories the boot by living loud my Personal Legend, embracing & ensconcing it in the pride of place where once the personal myth held court.
Stepping past personal myth isn’t as easy as saying, “Now, my eyes are open.” It would be easy if such tales are typically based largely on reason, on actual events. They are not. I have to make sense of the irrational & senseless, THEN leap past what I can understand & send the others packing.
Sure feels wonderful, having enough years under my belt that I can look back & see patterns that had been hidden from view because my heart hadn’t been tenderized enough to look with compassion rather than judgement, my brain was still counting up wrongs instead of seeing how others could think themselves in the right, my fingers were still too ready to point blame or curl up into a fist.
My personal myth spins a story of debility, but the record shows the opposite. Portrays someone who doesn’t have a clue how to forge deep connections, but the record shows the opposite. Tells the tale of a woman who is, above all, UN – unlovable, untrustworthy, undistinguished – but the record shows the opposite.
Fragments of each of each of those false fables – and others – remain embedded in my psyche, jagged pieces of emotional shrapnel. At lease now I have the tools & understanding & will to dig each out.
Finally sidelined the family myth; now it’s time to flip the still pesky personal myth into a great & glorious Personal Legend!