Everybody has a story to tell

It's funny how during the past two days or so I've ended up having 'real' conversations with friends I've known for sometime now but never really got to know know them, if you know what I mean. And interestingly enough those conversations have happened via FB Chat. What is the world turning to? Anyway, discussion for another time. So whether it was because we were too busy poking fun at each other or too occupied with just doing things, as in busying ourselves with 'having fun', we somehow never sat down and really talked. We never really got to talking about our lives, our families, our past experiences and stuff like that. And I realize that the reason for this is perhaps that all I thought about was myself. All along I have been the only person that has mattered to me: my family, my close circle of friends, my anything whatever that would be (sounds narcissistic, I know). It's like I thought that I was the only one with a life and everybody else just a face or a 'physical entity' I happened to stumble upon in my life. So I never bothered to ask anyone, I never noticed anyone else. Now that I say this I realize how delusionally selfish that actually is. I pretty much thought the whole world revolved around me. I mean who do I think I am?

So the thing is as I was talking to these friends I learned that they have such amazing stories to tell. And my problem was that I never listened to them, as in really listened, whether it was time constraint or willingness constraint or whatever constraint. And by amazing what I mean is that they live a life worth knowing about, even if not necessarily a news material, you know. For people like me it is really easy to think that we are the only ones that have something worthwhile to say. We might face certain challenges that seriously make us doubt ourselves, even hate ourselves sometimes but generally we come back to thinking we are.. well special, a blessing to the rest of the world. That is just how we have been wired. Let's say we overestimate ourselves too much, as in take the whole self esteem question to a whole new hyperbolic level. Or perhaps the real problem is not in us esteeming ourselves too much but rather in us not esteeming others enough. So it's good to be told and further reminded now and then that the truth is everybody has a good story to tell. Perhaps what people like me need to tell ourselves is that everybody is special. The trouble is 'technically' if everybody is special then no one is special, you know what I mean? So maybe we could chuck technicalities out of the window for this one. I don't think heaven is a 'technical' place anyway.

So basically, what I'm precisely learning is that listening to other people's stories shifts the focus towards them and increases our capacity to love. I've often wondered how to love better. Maybe this is my answer. It is too stunting to concern only with myself anyway. And it is definitely liberating to free myself of me, if you know what I mean.

(Picture Courtesy: Google Images)

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