Make a Visual Image of...

Your Story

“Storytelling is at the very heart of life…In finding our own story, we assemble all the parts of ourselves. Whatever kind of mess we have made of it, we can somehow see the totality of who we are and recognize how our blunderings are related. We can own what we did and value who we are, not because of the outcome, but because of the soul story that propelled us.”

Marion Woodman

          Psychotherapy is all about telling your story, and having it witnessed and validated. When I was a practicing counselor, I heard many stories of broken hearts, broken homes, terrible mistakes made in moments of desperation, as well as tales of redemption, reconciliation, and triumph. All the components of a good novel are in everyone’s life every day. It is in trusting someone enough to tell the truth of our story—without varnishing over the ugly parts—that we begin to knit ourselves back together. Once we can rise above the wounds, we get an aerial view of how each component fits together to make the whole—even the things we have done that we aren’t proud of are essential to the total picture. This is not easy work—it requires ruthless self-examination, which makes us feel vulnerable, even naked. Marion Woodman, the grand old dame of Jungian Psychology in North America, said this about vulnerability: “At the very point of vulnerability is where the surrender takes place—that is where the god enters. The god comes in through the wound.” And it is the god that heals us.

          As someone who has lived a long time, I can tell you that there is nothing in your personal history that hasn’t been done before—unless you are Einstein, and even he had a disastrous personal life. All of us, thankfully, make loads of stupid mistakes. That’s good because that’s how we learn. Sometimes, we feel embarrassed and ashamed by things we've done—speaking for myself, of course—and we want to hide them, or just leave them out of the story. When that happens in therapy, it feels like there’s a hole in the fabric—like a run in a silk stocking. It feels like the missing tapes, or the erased emails—a gaping space where connections break down. That is because all the parts play a role and add substance and legitimacy to the story; we can’t leave anything out.

          Not everyone can afford to spend years in therapy sussing out the pivot points in their life. Having a good friend who can listen and respond helps a lot. And practices such as journaling or making a personal timeline or a collage picturing the events of each decade of one’s life can provide visual entry. Sometimes just seeing the images we have chosen for our collage or timeline engenders more compassion within us for ourselves. Telling the story that the images depict allows us to view it as if it were someone else’s story. Someone who came to us for help and made themselves vulnerable by telling the truth about themselves. We would feel compassion for that person, right? And we would find their story interesting, even compelling. That’s you. Your story is just as interesting and important as any celebrity or socialite. And telling it to at least one other person is healing.

          We are our stories. Don’t be afraid to tell yours. It’s important.

                                        In the Spirit,

                                        Jane