As the end of November nears, my mind wanders to stories told around the Thanksgiving table at my grandparents’ home years ago. The gatherings included our small family along with an assortment of friends, some taking a break from hunting and some who didn’t have family nearby and were welcomed into ours. 

Even in their small home, my Grandma would make more food than we could finish, and then the adults would share stories. Some years those were tied to past deer hunts, some were related to adventures shared with guests around the table, and some were family memories. No matter what, I was thoroughly entertained.

I grew up surrounded by storytellers. In particular, my Grandpa was known for his wild tales that had it not been for someone else to corroborate the story one might not have believed them. He knew how to draw you in, mixing humor, descriptors and truth. He kept the listener guessing and engaged. 

Looking back, I see that aside from my first job as a carhop, every job I’ve had involved an element of storytelling from writing articles and newsletters to choreographing dances. In my current line of work as a life coach, I work with the stories my clients tell themselves. 

All of us are storytellers. It’s how our brains make sense of what happens in our lives. When something happens we decide what we make it mean for us. While we may all agree on some things (like the date Thanksgiving is celebrated), there are plenty of times when everyone has a different story (for example, some people insist on pumpkin pie as the best while others prefer pecan, apple or even mincemeat). 

One of those stories shared on a few Thanksgivings is an example of the same situation meaning something different for all involved. My version of “the time the fishing boat ended up in the middle of Mathews Lake without us in it” is usually told with a giggle and a smile. I was about 10 years old at the time and I thought it was humorous watching the boat float further out into the lake while we looked on from the landing. 

I was giggling, but my grandpa was grumbling. I’m not certain what went awry on the boat trailer to create this situation, but Grandpa didn’t find it so humorous in the moment. His version of the story brought about laughs in later retellings, but only because in time he chose to rewrite his story. The boat ends up in the same place in all versions of the story (kindly returned to shore by two fishermen), but we each made it mean something different in the first draft.

We can’t always control what happens to us, but we do control how we choose to tell the story. The words we use have power as they create our emotions. And how we feel drives how we show up, and what we do and don’t do. And all of that creates our results. The key is seeing our brain’s story of our life as “in progress” rather than a final draft. 

While most advice columnists will tell you what to do, coaches see it just a little bit differently. What story you are creating for yourself right now? How do you want it to be different? Do you need help writing and revising your life’s next chapter with intention? Readers can send questions via e-mail to midwestmoxie@heykarianne.com OR fill out the form on the “Ask Kari” tab.