My Story, My Life, or, Magda’s Attempt at Uncensored Authenticity.

I don’t know quite how it is that I again find myself blogging near midnight when I’m dead tired, but absolutely itching to write something, anything, on this site I’m slowly growing to love.  I still don’t know what made me do it, register this space, but here I am, and I’m warming up to it.

 

I found this quote today that just made me feel all warm and happy, so I’ll share it (with proper accreditation, of course, as I respect copyright and all that.  Sometimes.  True.). 

 

“All humans are storytellers with their own unique point of view.  When we understand this, we no longer feel the need to impose our story on others or to defend what we believe.  Instead, we see all of us as artists with the right to create our own art.”

 

It’s from Don Miguel Ruiz’ The Four Agreements, but I actually got it out of my new day planner.

 

This is how hilarious my mom is: I tell her I want two calendars for Christmas, one that’s bound and I can carry in my work bag, and the other that is one of those ones where the pages pull off to sit on my desk at work.  She gives me a wall calendar.  “With pockets—so you won’t need the others!”  Sweet, mom, and I adore you for the thought.  But really, really, I live by my day planner. 

 

Of course, being practically mid-January now, all of the calendars at the bookstore are totally picked over.  Unless they’re student-oriented, they all involve cats and dogs, and while that’s nice, it’s just not me.  No domesticated animals, ok? I am definitely not a pet kind of girl.  I like dogs.  Just not in my house.  I actually love cats, but I’m allergic, so not in my house either. 

 

Which left me to the Four Agreements calendar.  I think this was fate laughing as it delivered a swift kick to my behind.  J has been pestering me to read “this really great book,” and I keep “conveniently” finding myself with another (fiction, pleasure-reading) novel in hand.   Seriously, he’s been raving about this for months, and I’ve been blowing it off as unneeded psycho-babble that I, being of course perfect in everything, needn’t bother considering (HA! Laughs, snorts, etc. emerge from the peanut gallery).

 

I accepted what I had coming and bought the calendar, and so far, I like it.  Correction: I get it.  Yes!  I’m an artist in my own life, and a storyteller!  I’m just here, saying it how it is for me, and trying not to judge those differently situated. 

 

Ruiz goes on: “How do you create a beautiful story? By being authentic.  When the main character is authentic. It is easy to write your story with integrity, with common sense, with love.”

 

Dang.  I hate it when J is just so right. 

 

Such is life, though, yes?  Here’s me, and I’m the star of my own story, which is unfolding here, across screens and in pixels that travel unknown paths across cables and through space, jumbled and convoluted only to be reunited with perfect order on arrival.  It’s a mystery.  It’s my mystery.  I’m falling in love with this space, with my thoughts, my story.

I’m going to buy this book, stat.  Stay tuned.