Our Stories Create Our Realities

Most evenings after work I spend a pleasant half hour walking our dogs through the fields and woods. The exercise is good for us all.

Through the winter months and when the moon is in its first or last quarter it can be very dark. I have to peer through the night to pick out the shapes of a very badly behaved puppy Border terrier and her older brother whose favourite pastime is sleeping by the fire.

The other evening on a particularly dark night, I found myself thinking of the risks of being out alone in the countryside, barely able to see the ground underfoot.

Scanning the torch over the field in front of me, the light reflected in a pair of eyes to my left. They were gone almost instantly but something didn’t sit well about these eyes, whether the height above the ground or their size I wasn’t sure.

As we walked into the woods I noticed that the dogs were very close when usually they would be off chasing rabbits. Perhaps they had seen us coming and decided to go to ground until we had passed. But a little further on, the silence drew my attention; the crows roosting in the trees were unusually quite.

To the side of the path, some 25 metres ahead, I thought I saw a flash of red in the torchlight. I wasn’t sure if this was real or imagined but nevertheless unusual in the normally monochrome  woodland night.

Walking on, I began to notice small rustlings in the bushes. I felt cold and it seemed I could feel a shiver on my back. I slipped my hand through the strap on the torch so that if something sudden happened I would not drop it. I began looking at the ground for a stout length of fallen branch to defend myself if needed.

….. It wasn’t.  As I later pondered why this evenings walk should have taken this turn, I recalled walking the same route with one of my daughters the day before in the spring sunshine.

When I told her that I walked this way regularly in the deep darkness she had said that she wouldn’t have the courage to do that.

I had begun to wonder what she might be afraid of and in doing so had begun to create a reality where my attention had begun to pick out things that reinforced that reality. This in turn had created bodily sensations which further strengthened this internal narrative of danger. My behaviour started to change in sympathy with
this. (using the wrist strap on the torch and looking for a length of fallen wood). Thoughts drive feelings, feelings drive behaviour.

It is useful to be reminded that the stories we tell ourselves about the facts affects our emotions and the actions we take.