We have stories about our lives that we tell later in time. When they begin happening they may not even be recognized as stories. We make choices to get a story going and are its characters and not the author. It’s not that we don’t have some control over what we do. But these are not stories we rehearse for a play. We incorporate ourselves into our stories until the plot is almost instinctual.
Once the story of some event or situation has concluded we might not even realize it is over for a while. But the story debuts at some unforeseen moment. Then we stop being a character in the story but are still not the author. We transition into editors of our life stories.
As we account for what we did, the details provided as well as left out, shapes the story. Some details change in priority based upon how we deliver the story. A written account of a story often differs from a verbal rendition. For example, the responses from listeners could queue different details being included in a verbal delivery of a story. So these stories continue being edited and revised over time.
Does the story eventually change enough that it is nothing like the original? This often happens and the story becomes part truth and part fiction. Such stories have the potential to become familiar within a given group who often create other versions.
But most of our life stories start in unassuming ways. We are going somewhere or have something to get done. Most of what we do each day is straight forward. And within all these days that often seem so similar, a story begins that makes life an evolving mystery.