I’m starting to notice something.

People live their story – the story about themselves they keep cycling back to, if you spend enough time listening to them. I’m noticing it especially in 2 people closest to me. Both continuously telling the story of their sickness and both of them continuously living it.

Now I don’t claim to be so arrogant as to claim that is one causal to the other.

The 2 are products of vastly different nature and nurture complexes, and both are genuinely, sorely afflicted in ways both physical and emotional, and so, maybe if I was living their life, at the bleeding edge of being sickly and in near-constant pain all of the time, perhaps I too would feel and speak otherwise.
I don’t know.

It just feels to me like they dwell in that place where, every time when given a choice, they will cycle a conversation back to their sickness, and then I can’t help wondering if a self-fulfilling prophecy is also not in part playing itself out.

But in reality, whether I’m correct or incorrect, partially or at all, is not my point, but rather that there hides in this co-incidence, an inferred lesson that could be learned from.

On the off-chance that the hypothesis is true that words influence your reality…

What will my story be about me?

And perhaps (maybe even more importantly…), do I even know what stories about me, I’ve been telling? Am I even aware?