Our neighbors at the campground are making the most beautiful memory. They are sitting on the edge of the Columbia River, toasting marshmallows and watching barges float by while the sky erupts in violent shades of crimson and fuchsia.
Meanwhile I’m spying on them through the blinds in our motorhome as Josh prepares the TV so we can watch The Office.
It’s not uncommon for us to spy on our neighbors. We find what they do and the things they shout at each other in public endlessly fascinating. Like exotic zoo animals or victims of a car crash.
A few days ago I watched a video called Homework for Life. In it storyteller and writer Matthew Dicks asks you to write down the most story worthy moment that happened during the day.
I was excited for this assignment until I actually sat down to do it. What I noticed is that I spent an awful lot of time watching other people’s story worthy moments instead of living my own. That made me feel kinda sad.
If this had happened a few years ago, I would have asked myself, “How can we have fun like them so I can feel better?” I would have changed everything thinking that would erase the sadness.
But really the opposite is true. It’s how you think about the things you do that creates how you feel.
So the question really is: how can I love what I’m doing right now (watching other people) instead of rejecting it as being wrong?
If spying could be story worthy as having a fire on the riverbank, what would I see instead?
I would see two humans who LOVE being voyeurs. We could lean into that. We could make up elaborate stories about their lives pieced together by the things they say and the stuff they brought with them.
Or I could sketch out the memories I witnessed them creating and leave the note anonymously on their doorstep.
Or anything really.
If I accepted what I was doing as a valid (because it is), I would open up to it instead of using it against myself.
I would actively acknowledge my life not just as story worthy, but worthy in general.