Two months ago my Mum died!
My dad asked my brother and I to give her Eulogy- difficult on many levels
Could we do it? How would I manage my emotions, my brothers and would we be able to capture the force that was our Mum!
As I took on this task I worried about whether I would get the delivery right, would my public speaking connect the version of my Mum that those in attendance knew?
What I experienced though was that the work I had to do was connected to my writing not my speaking. I started to panic – I was filled with dread thinking about having to share my writing with my my wife, sister in law (both teachers) and my brother!
I am not a confident writer! I know the very time those words stuck to me – School aged 15 – Mr H. consistently calling me out for have horrible writing skills- the story I took on was “ I am not a good writer! And that is exactly what I was starting to feel and believe just thinking about it!!
It was not a new feeling for me. What I decided to do though was; This time as I put pen to paper I told myself “You can do hard things” and “You are an expert in stories about Mum!” I reminded myself that my Mum had taught me how to make people feel seen and heard.
So I took a deep breath and wrote from that place.
Sharing what I had written with my brother was exciting, emotional, and empowering. We had written about common themes and stories and as we practiced in our childhood kitchen we cried and laughed and cried some more.
That was the moment I let go of an old story about my writing abilities.
I learned the power of owning the stories we tell ourselves and choosing to believe something different is not always a comfortable journey but it is a freeing one!
What Stories do you carry that no longer serve you?
And what would you have to believe differently to choose a new belief?
