@HomewithDean - Homily 8/8

The story of how green grassy lawns found their way into our present is, I think, a pretty good example of how better understanding the past can help free us from it.<br /><br />Great Grandpa was so proud of his lawn because for him it really meant something. You and I were born into a world of lawns. By the time we got here the story of lawns didn’t feel like a story at all. It was just how things are. It’s simply what goes in front of a house. Less of a deeply meaningful blessing and more of a burden of home ownership. But our great grandparents knew a world where meticulously manicured green parkland was something only those of means could afford to put on display. And so when the opportunity came to have their own lawn it became a symbol that they were now the lords of the manor. That their home was very much their castle and in some significant way they were now more in control of their own destiny. That was their story.<br /><br />Powerful things … stories. <br /><br />It’s been said that human beings are meaning seekers and meaning makers, which is really just another way of saying we are storytellers and story dwellers. Stories give us context. The “facts” don’t really mean anything to us unless or until we fit them into a story we understand, like how words only really have meaning once they find their place in a proper sentence. <br /><br />I like revisiting the idea of how much power stories hold over me because—true confession—life doesn’t really trigger me, it’s how I interpret life through my stories that triggers me. And seeing my stories for what they are is the only chance I have to break free of them and write better ones, healthier ones, truer ones. <br /><br />We all have stories that trigger us. We all have stories that could use some editing. And we could all benefit from remembering that some of our stories just aren’t true. That’s ok if your story is aspirational. If you’re creating a future that right now doesn’t exist. It’s not so great if your story is delusional. And sometimes it’s not