The Disappearing Ink Practice
Be the author of your unfolding life story.
Does the Past Permanently Shape Your Future Life Story
Far too many people seem to unintentionally subscribe to the idea that their past is the best predictor of their future. While it is true that we can’t change the past, it is absolutely not true that the past has to be allowed to keep exerting such an outsized influence on our “as yet unlived future life.” When we act as though each day of our life is somehow transcribed into a ledger that records every event, every misstep, every regrettable act, and every personal shortcoming. we can become convinced of our flawed nature and heavily weighed down by what we are powerless to change.
In my work with clients, learning to be present to, and engaged with the opportunities that are “present in the present” is a frequent challenge. Clients bring in their stories of their personal history and how that history continues to hold their lives hostage. Clients also bring stories about their fears about their future. Their minds transport them to images of the future that are usually painted in fearful colors and they feel themselves held hostage to a future that hasn’t even happened.
In either case, what is missing is the ability to be present to what is available in the here and now. To acknowledge the events of the past as what was and to imagined possibilities about what might be is helpful, truthful, and even honest. But to then bring those memories or future visions into the present, where they dictate how you live today, is to inscribe those memories or future possibilities into your mind in permanent ink. That is where the disappearing ink practice comes in.
Re-authoring Your Story
In this practice, I invite you to experience your unfolding life the way an author experiences the writing of a book. As a published author myself, I know that what I commit to paper one day can be deleted the next day as new ideas, new experiences, and new perspectives shape the way I write a page or chapter. The writing is an ongoing effort, each day serving as an opportunity to shift, re-draft, or edit what I had previously written.
In this practice, I encourage you to imagine that the events of your yesterdays or worries about your tomorrows get written in disappearing ink. Each morning, you get to start fresh. Each day becomes an opportunity to draft something new and explore what is most satisfying, fulfilling, worthwhile, and meaningful. When the past is no longer written in permanent ink, you become freer to live each day more boldly. And if each night, the previous day’s events fade, like disappearing ink on a page, each new morning dawns with the possibility of pursuing a novel and more authentic path forward in your as yet unlived life.