There is so much power in the stories we tell. If we could bottle it we’d power the world for centuries.

And we’re all story tellers. Every day people tell others a story; how was your day? Well, let me tell you…

We talk about our co-workers, our parents, our doctors appointments. We talk about our fears and desires and ambitions. We plan, regroup, devolve. We talk of bacon and bus drivers and burnt toast and politics and weather and dementia and holidays…

We tell ourselves stories, too. About who we are and who we want to be. And those stories stick with us, burrow in and grow. Those stories can wreck us or build us, depending on the words we’ve used to parse them together. Words of self-loathing or self-love, words that discourage or encourage. The stories of self that change with every decade, at least to some degree.

And then there are the stories others tell of us. Their perceptions of who we are create a mythical version of us that exists in their world. And what a wonderful story that can be. Other people can give us a path, character attributes, and qualities we’d never think to add to our own versions. They can make us villains or heroes and so many combinations in between. And we may never know what their story of us is…

As we go slide into inky winter, I’m considering my story. Who am I right now? Who do I want to be-come at the return of the light? What story do I want to write myself into?

I can’t wait to find out. How about you? What’s your story?