The Story. (The Serious Stuff)

The Story. A professor once told me that "The Story is everything. Everything in life stems from a story of some kind." It's something that I agree with. Stories have always had a profound influence on us. Whether they be from the Bible, Koran, Torah, etc. Even to the personal stories from people we know. We can always learn something from a story. Every day we think that our stories may not matter, that they have no point, or that they are only for us and extremely private, or that no one wants to hear it. I'm here to tell everyone that they do matter, and I always pay attention.
I've had a few weeks now without several of my vices in life, and I've been reading and reflecting, only to come to a conclusion. With an uncertain future, the stories are all that I have. I have lost the right to basic human emotion long ago, and it is only through stories that I can feel. It's the same for most human beings. Stories move us and make us passionate. They enable us to do all kinds of things. Be it the story of a parent-less child in Africa, to the story of the abused in the US, to a story of the over-privileged, stories like these have gotten people to act or do things not within their pattern of behavior. It's human kinds ability to adjust and to do things that gives us hope for the future.
Every story I see is beautiful. Whether it's the story of a young LDS Artist struggling to make her way in the world, or an opinionated redhead who has to experience everything the world has to offer, or a man who ultimately desires to do many things for other people but yet has no one who does it for him. All of these stories have different emotions associated with them, some are sad stories, some happy, some are told for amusement. Many of my family and friends have wonderful stories, but are either too embarrassed or too concerned about others passing judgment to share them with the world. Which is a grave injustice to human kind.
A good, but over used saying is "The truth shall set you free". I find this is the case with many of own personal stories. I joke about it to make light of it, but I do have many unpleasant memories of my 2nd step-father. My mother married a man named Bob. Bob was alleged, but unproven child molester. Now, I can't really speak for the truth of these statements and I was only about 6 years old, but I can speak of a meetings with my mother.
Bob had a second story house. After many years, it seems the relationship because estranged, and Bob had the downstairs of the house, while my mother had the upstairs. My mother in a fit of frustration and rage, made me promise that I would NEVER go downstairs. Some of you may, or may not know this story. However, I can tell you how my curiosity got the better of me, and my young self ventured downstairs one day. The only thing I can remember is the darkness and the cold, and the brooding sense of evil in the air that it was nearly palpable. It was a short lived trip. To this day, I don't really remember what occurred after going downstairs.
It took me quite some time before I was comfortable even sharing that story. However, now I can joke about it, and it doesn't mean anything. So, if you have some time today. Share a story with someone. If it's one that you haven't told, all the better. To quote one of my favorite monologues and endings of all time, and one of my favorite movies The Prestige. Applies quite a bit to sharing these life stories of ours. In the climax of the movie the central characters are having their showdown, and the magicians speak to one another about their trade:

(While talking to Borden) "You never understood why we did it! It was the look on their faces. The audience knows the truth. The world is hollow, shallow through and through. But, if you get them to believe, even for a second, then you've done something wonderful."