Sorry Ilona, last night I was reading on the forum and intended to reply but fell asleep reading one of the blogs.
Have a look, does your story about past events change? Does it depend on a mood? Does it appear slightly different each time it's remembered? Does your mum, friend, colleague remember same stuff or their story is different about same event? Is there a true story about this one event? What would story about you look from different points of view, like stranger, parent, best friend? Examine this closely. See how stories about other peoples stories get created in the head.
What else do you notice about these mechanisms?
My story about past events does change and has changed many times yes, definitely, the past isn't fixed as in the thoughts judgements and sensations, points of views change, in my experience it seems like as more information is added over life it seems to shed light on past events and that seems to alter the past in memory,more information, more options patterns of behaviour=-other outcomes, like forgiveness rather than only seeing victim like theres more possibilities with more information life is gathering of information, experience,and hindsight and insight and also it affects this moment as seeing there was no one to blame then I can be with people I used to only project roles to, including my role, which was the one that really held the others in place. Like its a level field, seeing clear now sees clear everywhere, maybe very subtle, if I look back its easier to see there was never any judge but myself and the victim story was an extremely effective way to defend the belief mechanism of I as being something solid, Look I am someone after all, you were all wrong about me and I was wrong about myself, what I feared most was being nothing and being unable to fulfil the roles assigned to me by others or the roles I assumed I had assigned to myself, the roles are not personal, an I is part of the play, it makes the play playable, so there can be objects and differentiation, thus a story/script. But no one called me is writing it or doctoring it and editing out the words to make me look better than I think myself, and no one can delete some parts unfavourable and paste in happiness. Crop and trim the images and Photoshop the perceived mistakes and theres no one who can change the script, or change the characters, whatever happens is not controlled by an entity that is who I am. No. Lots of thoughts about how I sound like a know it all or a parot and this isn't really insightful or is just another clever speech from a parot, noticed that when investigating and the narrative asks questions it all gets muddled there of who is speaking and is this another BS waste of time or seeing the behaviour like a seeker and a pretend knower of truth and its like I tricked myself without being aware of doing it, another story. Listening to the rain is happening, feet move without any time to think about feet moving, only after they have begun moving does the info come about the happening of moving feet. Drinking and its the same way, automatically and spontaneously and then a thought just after claiming to be the drinker who also picked up the cup and held it, drank from it and put it back on the table, and thought about it, thinks about it right now. Just like a stream of thoughts one after another like the words on here. The story about me if looked at from a stranger or family/friend would be different to the story that plays here about me, some wouldn't have a story at all for me, a stranger in the street, my parents may have a story of me not meeting expectations and not being as functional as they would have expected me to be, but you know, I can see that its not true, cos that did go on in the story and it was me that perpetuated and milked it, they were sharing their concern for me, wanting me to do well, from that belief and I was adding all kinds of meanings to it, warping it into some mad prison/prism in my head and living in ideas and not really seeing them at all as empty as this. There is a sense of me as if located in the head, behind the eyes, looking, I don't know how to look in or take a step back, I have heard folks say to do that, or search inside, I don't know where inside is, there isn't anywhere I can find that's back or behind here, just looking, there's colours, light, sound, sensations, breathing, hair dangling down like a pair of open curtains for a window that has no glass or edge and it has no shape that can be outlined, it just isn't bound by the law of material laws, although within the view the picture appears and like magic as you said with the words, images make things and objects and people and details and meaning for some one who is real. Like an ever changing tapestry and the images within it say I am real and I am the one in control of this whole tapestry and its moving as I command it!
See how stories about other peoples stories get created in the head
Yes, and more aware of that for the other day, which felt like hell at the time but it seems like its all wiping away the BS gradually somehow, and like you said let things burn part of the process, I am just not used to staying with uncomfortable feelings or whatever is perceived as they are and the words help to just relax instead of run and this is nice to see that whats behind it is more openness to say yes to what arises without flying into a description and hiding out in another concept, its like a shallow grave, can never hide the stench for long before a dog comes digging up the old bones again and the stories start chewing, like that film, the langaliers, these little creates that come and eat reality..as in the world, except thoughts don't have bodies and they cant actually eat the world or even touch it, only by being believed and acted out is a thought affecting anything, and even then its a body building a shed and no thought can be seen in reality then either, the shed is there from a concept that's become a part of the tapestry because it was focused on? Xx