Choose Your Own Adventure

Back when my daughter was a child, there used to be a popular series of books called “Choose Your Own Adventure”. In these books, you read part of the story, and then at a decisive moment in the plot line, that thread of the story would end abruptly and you could continue on only by choosing one of several action options; for example, if you were being chased by the abominable snowman you could 1) run away 2) hide behind the closest tree, or c) attack the monster and try to fight him off. Once you chose your action, you turned to the corresponding “action” page and took up the story again. Ultimately, the sum total of your choices led to a unique ending. Someone else could read the same book, but their choices would be different and would ultimately lead them to a completely different ending.

While these types of books were very cool, and were all the rage back in the 80’s, they were not a new concept. The same idea had been around for a long time but we called it something else. We called it “real life”: the ultimate “choose your own adventure” story.

Every day, each of us faces a multitude of decisions, large and small; of great import or nearly negligible. And it is the sum total of those decisions that constitute the life we have at right this very moment. We make a choice and then stuff happens. Sometimes it’s “good” stuff, and sometimes it’s “bad” stuff, but there is no denying that we are shaping our own reality one decision at a time. Most people don’t like to hear this. When good stuff happens, we are usually quick to take the credit. But when bad stuff happens, we see ourselves as victims of circumstance. And sometimes, we are. But even in the most unfortunate circumstances, we control the key plot element to the happy ending – our interpretation of our life’s events.

I cannot tell you how many times I have heard someone say, “If I had it to do over again…”. Well, that’s the rub. You can’t do it over again. Your past is the thread from which your present is woven, and your “now” absolutely cannot be separated from your “then”. As the filmmakers of old would say, “it’s in the can”. You may as well try to un-ring a bell. So if you can’t revise the event, what can you do? Well, how about revising the interpretation.

Consider these two women. 

Dana preferred her own company to that of other people. She had been an only child and spent the majority of her formative years playing alone.  As she grew, she found socializing with others to be difficult, and often avoided gatherings where she was not closely acquainted with all of those in attendance. As a result, she had a very limited group of friends and often felt like an outsider. In addition, she had been plagued with serious illness throughout most of her life. She struggled to maintain attendance at school, often being medically “sidelined” for weeks – and sometimes months – at a time. When she married, her husband’s work obligations further complicated her unique set of problems by forcing the family to move frequently, and providing her with little in the way of a support structure or predictable lifestyle. Looking back, she sees a “perfect storm” of circumstances that predisposed her to leading an unfulfilled, frustrating and lonely life.

Lynn was also an only child. She was born to two hardworking parents who were devoted to their daughter. In spite of the fact that she lacked playmates, she never lacked for entertainment. Her imagination was vivid, and she could lose herself for hours in the adventures of Nancy Drew and The Hardy Boys. She remembers her trips to the library with her mother as some of the happiest moments in her young life. She loved sitting in the company of adults, listening to their conversations and imagining all of the things she would see and do when she was old enough to be on her own. Adult life seemed so rich and exciting! She, like Dana, was not a healthy child. But she views her periods of “forced isolation” as those times when she learned and grew the most. And also like Dana, she traveled the world with her husband, learning that she could be her own best resource and that she could “hold her own” regardless of where, and in what circumstances, she found herself. Looking back, Lynn credits her unique life experiences with turning her into a strong, independent, compassionate and resourceful woman

So, whose life would you rather live – Dana’s or Lynn’s? 

You may be surprised to learn that Dana and Lynn are the same person. They are both me, and both sets of facts are true. It is only the interpretation, the perspective of the storyteller, that is different. I intentionally choose to frame my life in terms of what I have gained, to see things from “Lynn’s” point of view, rather than to frame it by what it has lacked (Dana’s point of view). And you can frame your life story in the same way.

Clinical psychologists call this reframing of one’s life story as “narrative therapy”. It’s not about being unrealistic. It’s not about changing the past. It’s about viewing the past from a different perspective. 

You see, we all “spin” our life story. There is no way that we can think of ourselves in terms of everything we have ever seen, done or experienced. We will all, by mental necessity, choose to select certain events and circumstances and frame our identity around them. And in that way, we are writing our own story each and every day. 

You have had experiences. You have made choices. These are your plot elements, and they cannot be removed from your story. But they can be “reframed”. 

So how will you choose to “write your own adventure”?