I often talk about the fact that we are the stories we tell ourselves.
There is, however, a corollary to that.
A king returned to his palace one fine morning after his morning walk in the jungle. Upon reaching the palace, he discovered that his horse was lost.
He immediately sent his minister to search for the horse in the jungle. The minister saw a blind man outside the jungle and asked him, “Hey you blind man, did you happen to hear the sound of bells around a horse’s feet? Did a horse pass from here?”, to which the blind man replied, “No, I didn’t.”
After the minister didn’t return, the king sent his viceroy next.
The viceroy saw a blind man outside the jungle and asked him, “Hey you blind man, did you happen to hear the sound of bells around a horse’s feet? Did a horse pass from here?”, to which the blind man replied, “No, I didn’t.”
Finally, the king took matters in his own hands and headed for the jungle. He saw the same blind man and asked him, “Hey Mahatma, did you happen to hear the sound of bells, indicating that a horse passed by?”, to which the blind man responded, “No His Highness, I didn’t!”
Perplexed, the king asked him, “How do you know I am the King?”
“Through the words you used for me,” came the succinct response.
The stories we get to hear are the stories we tell others.