story work

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Have you heard of story work?

I recently watched a documentary with some input from some of my favorite mental health / neuroscience teachers, called Is Your Story Making You Sick? I was able to watch it for free via Tubi.

While I wasn’t thrilled with the cinematic value, there was some pretty solid therapeutic content. And hey, who am I to critique something I’ve never done (movie making)??

My favorite line of the movie was probably this one:

“Most of the time, people are oblivious, and they’re oblivious that they’re oblivious”

I will gladly admit that I’m oblivious about a lot of things. Gladly oblivious! But I’m grateful to be learning about brain science-y stuff, especially as applies to addiction, attachment, adhd, and related issues. So, if these are areas of interest for you, I encourage checking out the movie, and I’d love to know your thoughts as well!

One of the people in the documentary spoke of story work as “narrative medicine”. For many, doing story work has been more healing for them than anything they’ve experienced with pharmaceuticals. For some, a combination of both seems to help. What I’m learning / trying to synthesize about story work is the what is it part.

“Like fish live in the sea, we live in stories.”

“As soon as we start recognizing that our stories are not reality, we become the storytellers of our own lives.”

“Ya gotta get a different perspective on your perspective.”

These are all quote from the documentary. We all have stories, and we are constantly telling ourselves a story. When we are first introduced into the world, we are handed our story. Other people have already been writing our story for us – from their vantage points. A parent who might be excited and/or scared, even angry about our arrival. A sibling who might view us as something to love or disdain. They, and others, are already writing our story. And for starters, we can only receive our stories from others.

From the beginning, our stories are fabricated, and yet we experience them as truth.

Add in a little (or not a little) abandonment, abuse, and/or trauma. How does this affect the stories we tell ourselves? And how do these stories literally change who we are? Not just what we think of ourselves, but our actual physical embodiment of self. We change. We adapt. We protect. And we literally kill off parts of ourselves to do this. Autoimmune disease shows up. Chronic inflammation. Fatigue, pain, mental distress and illness. All of these things are related to our stories – the stories we tell about ourselves, and the stories we are told.

We can rewrite our stories. Literally! This is story work.

Rewriting our story usually involves actual writing, but it’s not just the writing that changes things. There is something that happens in the brain when we write. I know, for me, my thoughts tend to be a jumbled up mess- like a bowl of cooked spaghetti noodles. I’m able to better organize them through writing. And as I’m writing, I can begin to even understand and synthesize the stuff I’ve been reading and studying. My brain learns as my fingers move!

But, on my own, I will still have an incomplete, inaccurate story! The work of story work happens when I share my story with others. Change comes with community. Caring, compassionate, capable community.

When I tell you a part of my story, and you reflect back the pain that maybe I don’t even allow myself to feel, something changes in me. I feel a little more seen, more safe. I feel more myself. And the story work is done. When I tell you I think I’m a pretty laid-back, easygoing person, and you reflect back to me how intense and even aggressive you experience me to be at times (true story for me, btw), I have the opportunity to receive that as kindness, and my story is rewritten. When I share the deepest, darkest, most painful experiences and feelings of my story, expecting revulsion and horror, anger, fear, and you respond with empathy and compassion, my story is rewritten. I have a new story to tell! And, interestingly, I experience the healing not only in my mind and emotions, but in my body as well.

There are different ways of doing story work – in groups, in pairs, with a therapist, with a loved one. But it always includes others. It is always with. For me, even this blog has been about story work. So…let me end this post by saying thank you to those who stop by and take time to reflect back your insights and experiences regarding my story. I’m grateful! And a little less jumbled up!

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19 thoughts on “story work”

  4. How fascinating, David! I’m away from home so I can’t watch the documentary but it makes me think of an On Being podcast I heard with humorist Kevin Kling. He was experiencing some PTSD about a motorcycle accident that was keeping him awake. He worked with a therapist and she had him rewrite the story as if he didn’t have the accident and didn’t lose his arm. The quote that stuck with me was, “We need to rewrite our story sometimes just so we can get some sleep.” Sure, he had to wake up and realize that he still didn’t have use of his arm – but at least he could get some rest.

    I especially like the part of what you’ve written where you think that what you reveal might be met with horror but instead is met with empathy and it helps to rewrite your story. I’ve found the same when I’ve revealed my wounds. Beautiful!

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    1. Yeah. Sleep is good. I love sleep! I definitely see how story work would help with that.

      I heard Dr. Curt Thompson, in a podcast episode one time, refer to receiving empathy in the place of horror as “the beautiful surprise of grace”. For whatever reason, it makes me think of a Monarch butterfly. At least, that’s the image that came to mind, and it stuck!

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  5. I think many of us are more oblivious than we realise. I’m definitely oblivious to a lot of things. I tend to rewrite a lot of my stories. A large number of things I write start out with something I’ve experienced and then go from there.

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  7. My degree is actually in filmmaking—and I’ve been certified in meditation and hypnosis, with an exceptionally during draw towards neuroscience and psychology.

    What I’ve come to realize is that the torment we put ourselves through, repeatedly, is a way for our subconscious minds to create a sense of understanding for us to reflect on. “What did I do wrong?,” “Did I really deserve that?,” “I can’t believe I fell for that again!,” “ What the hell is wrong with me?,” and “Here I go again…” We absolutely need to solve this Rubik’s cube, so we can move onto the next step. You just need resolve.

    One of the things that really irks me is anyone telling someone else how to feel and following up with, “Get over it—the past is the past.” While it’s true that you cannot change the past, you need to be able to learn from it so that you don’t repeatedly make the identical errors. That’s often times where a therapist, who walks your conscious mind through the steps of what happened so you can figure it out with his/her assistance; or, a hypnotherapist, who works with your subconscious, so you don’t have to go through the trouble of thinking through it—your subconscious already knows the “why” behind the things you do.

    As far as our bodies go, you’re absolutely correct that our health is impacted by the way we think. As a matter of fact, weight loss is fractionally affected by exercise; not by the content of food as much as the amount we eat and the time slots we eat between. And as far as exercise goes, it isn’t working the muscles that causes weight to drop off…it’s the increased blood flow, they encouraged digest track and expulsion of waste. If you haven’t worked out for a while, and then you do for a few days, you will literally feel physically different, and your body will have sweated out and expanded more waste—but, back on the subject at hand.

    Your writing is great and easy to follow, but your content is genuine and so thought out. It’s funny—the times your entries mean a lot to you, create some sort of… I can’t quite put it into words… like a sincere energy. It’s genuinely appreciated that you take so much of your time to think things through as you write them. Thank you so much for entrusting us with your thoughts.

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    1. “…the times your entries mean a lot to you, create some sort of… I can’t quite put it into words… like a sincere energy…”

      Wow, and thank you.
      And yeah…you also picked up on a trend – an inconsistency in writing that mirrors how I’m feeling in the moment.

      But thank you, again, for the generous and thoughtful response.

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  8. Dear David, I’ve read your post three times now, learning more about this topic each time. Your post here is truly remarkable, and it had me fixated all the way through, wanting to know more about your experience and this world of rewriting our stories. It’s fascinating and is something I feel I really need and want to do. I should be getting a place with a new counsellor in roughly two months’ time, and I’m wondering if she could work on this with me. I can but ask, but I feel it will definitely benefit me.

    You explain it all so well so that it makes perfect sense; you’ve spoken about it in such an understandable, honest and genuine way. Thank you for sharing your own life as an example to your readers. I am very honoured to have read part of your story. Unfortunately, I cannot get the film in the UK for some reason, and although Amazon has the book, it costs over £19, which is way out of my financial league. I will see if my local library can lend me a copy.

    I know that my childhood abuse and trauma have negatively affected me physically, emotionally and mentally all through my life. I wonder how different I would have been without these experiences. As your previous commenter, MJ, said, I, too, have had people say to me – it was all in the past, stop dragging this around with you and get on with your life. It was such a hurtful thing to say and just made me feel inferior and incapable. I’m not sure how I could receive that as kindness, as you say, but perhaps, that’s something I need to learn.

    Physically writing our story is something I feel is important. I know that I learn and study best if I write facts and feelings out in longhand.

    Thank you for sharing this part of your life, your thoughts and ideas. I really do appreciate that – you’ve opened up a whole new train of thought in my mind and made me feel more positive that I can rewrite my story, too, and perhaps, begin to heal. I wish you all the best in rewriting your story, David. X

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