The Stories We Tell Ourselves

Living in a small community has many advantages. People know each other, meet regularly, and often help one another. But there is also a more delicate side: information travels quickly and, along the way, it often changes shape.

More than once, I have heard a comment, a remark, or a story and noticed that my mind had already begun doing the rest. Filling in the gaps. Creating explanations. Imagining intentions.

And perhaps this is where much of our suffering begins.

Not so much from the facts themselves, but from the stories we build around them.

Someone doesn't say hello, and the mind thinks, "They must have something against me."

Someone makes a comment, and the mind adds meanings that may never have been there.

Someone shares a story, and as it passes from one person to another, interpretations, assumptions, and conclusions are added.

The curious thing is that we often react to our fantasies as if they were reality. And these fantasies can hurt. They can hurt us, and they can hurt others.

Because when we believe something without knowing whether it is true, we risk creating distance, tension, and misunderstandings that might never have existed in the first place.

Many years ago, according to a story attributed to Socrates, a man approached him eager to tell him something about a friend. Before listening, Socrates asked him three questions.

Are you certain that what you are about to tell me is true?

The man admitted that he was not.

Is what you are about to tell me something good?

Again, the answer was no.

Then tell me: is it useful?

Once more, the answer was no.

Socrates concluded that if something is not true, not good, and not useful, perhaps it is not worth saying.

I do not know whether this story actually happened, but its message remains timeless. Before repeating a piece of news, a rumor, or an impression, perhaps we could pause for a moment.

Do I really know this, or am I imagining it?

And perhaps also ask:

Is it helpful for me to believe this?

Is it helpful for the other person if I pass it on?

In Logosynthesis®, we often observe how much energy can remain trapped in our inner images, expectations, and fantasies. Not necessarily in what happened, but in what we imagine happened.

Over time, I have learned that not everything I think is true. And not everything I hear deserves to be carried further.

Sometimes the greatest gift we can give ourselves and others is to stop the chain of assumptions.

To let go of a story.

And return to the facts.