Telling, and improving, stories

I recently ran across a line in a book called Metaphors in Psychotherapy (by Henry Close) that said, "If a story is worth telling, it is worth improving upon." What an amazing thought... it took my mind immediately to Dr. Suess' great, but in my opinion, woefully underlooked book, And To Think That I Saw It on Mulberry Street.

Perhaps you remember the story. A young boy is exhorted by his father to pay careful attention to all that he sees as he walks home from school, and to report to him everything that he saw. Walking down the street, he notices a horse and wagon, but that doesn't seem like much to him, so he imagines telling his father that the wagon was being pulled by a zebra...then that seems a little too tame... and before you know it, an entire circus parade is making its way down Mulberry Street.

I love letting my imagination run wild. Thinking of all the things that could be, not necessarily what should be, is a thrill to me. That plain horse and wagon, oh my goodness, wouldn't it be better if it was a circus train? That boring meeting at work? Wouldn't it be better if it was an international summit on world peace? That ham and cheese sandwich? In my imagination it's cordon bleu.

Imagination, improving on the story, is the driving force behind all human achievements. I think that all great inventors play a game with themselves called, "I wonder what would happen if...", then they proceed to find out. Poets and writers can take a simple everyday event or emotion and make it into something extraordinary by imagining different ways to tell the story.

And yes, I'm sure you knew I would get around to it eventually... telling the stories of our lives is a very imaginative process... and one that can bring great healing. But it's even better, if in the telling of the story, we improve upon it. Perhaps in this telling, we ascribe nobler motives to other people's actions, perhaps in this telling we had just the right words to say, or we behaved much better. Perhaps in the version we were wiser, or more courageous. Perhaps in this telling we are much wittier, or much more at ease in a variety of situations. Perhaps this telling motivates us to make the improved version our story, to make the changes in our lives that we know we need to make.

One word of warning, however. When telling, and living, the improved version of our lives, don't forget the good parts of the original story. Don't leave out the wonderful, ordinary "horse and wagon" parts of the story, for it in those parts of the story that we can have the most extraordinary joy.