how I do anything is how I do everything - apparently

I just took Atlas for his morning walk. As we were about to turn the corner towards the park, he stopped and became intently focused on something across the way. I looked myself and saw what appeared to be a piece of paper crumpled up on the sidewalk.

I told Atlas that he could go check it out. As we walked across the parking lot, the conversation in my head went kind of like this, "Wow. Look at how much Atlas notices. He saw that paper and he remembered that it wasn't there yesterday so he wants to check it out to see whether it's safe. Dogs are so good at noticing the little things. I love that he wants to investigate."

Atlas, apparently, was not clued in to my story. What did he do? He went right to a specific spot on the grass and marked it. He was not interested in the paper at all. I had to laugh.

But this did make me notice just how often I tell myself stories. Clearly I do it for the little things. I know I do it for the big things - and some of those stories become so big and weighty that I forget they really are just stories.

It got me to thinking that maybe if I can start to notice where I am telling myself a story, it'll become easier and easier to recognize them and easier and easier to step back enough to decide whether that particular story is a story worth telling. (If I'm going to tell stories, I kind of want them to be useful, you know.)

Comments

[Josiane]

Having just come back from a wonderful storytelling festival, I have once again been reminded of the power of stories. Thank you for reminding me to notice the stories I tell myself. I think it is important to be aware of them, and also to select them carefully...

[elizabeth @ retinal perspectives]

@Josiane: A storytelling festival! That sounds like such a wonderful place to be. And like a very good place to be immersed in the power of the story.