We owe nothing to our personal history; we are not in its debt.

It offers to us a broken and imperfect gift.

That gift, however, is modular. We can choose parts to keep and parts to discard.

All of it — the good and the bad — is told though our own narration.

When the story does not serve us well, we can choose to tell a better story. We can read from the pages that have been written, or we can begin again.

A blank sheet of paper awaits. It can be the next page of an existing novel, or the first page of a new story.

The choice is ours to make.