Journey Outline

PART I:  OLD STORIES

• The Power of your Story
• What is Your Story?
• Your Heroine’s Journey
• How Faithful are You as Storyteller?
• Is It Really Your Story You are Living?
• The Private Voice

PART II: YOUR NEW STORY

• A Quest is Never Forgettable
• They Lived Happily Ever After?
• The Three Rules of Storytelling
• The Four Story Scenario’s
• They Lived Happily Ever After! 
• Do You Have the Resources to Live Your Best Life?
• Indoctrinate Yourself
• The Story Effect
• Your New Story
• The Premise of your Story. The Purpose of your Life and Art
• The words on your tombstone
• You ultimate mission, out loud
• The Seven Great Plots
• The Twelve Archetypal Heroes
• The One Great Story
• Questioning the Premise
• Lining up
• Flawed Alignment, Tragic Ending
• The Three Rules in Storytelling
• Write Your New Story

PART III: TURNING STORY INTO ACTION

• Turning your story into action
• Story Ritualizing
• The Storyteller and the art of story
• The Power of Your Story
• Storyboarding your creative process
• They Created and Lived Happily Ever After.

About Peter de Kuster

Peter de Kuster is the founder of The Heroine’s Journey & Hero’s Journey project,  a storytelling firm which helps creative professionals to create careers and lives based on whatever story is most integral to their lives and careers (values, traits, skills and experiences). Peter’s approach combines in-depth storytelling and marketing expertise, and for over 20 years clients have found it effective with a wide range of creative business issues.

Peter is writer of the series The Heroine’s Journey and Hero’s Journey books, he has an MBA in Marketing,  MBA in Financial Economics and graduated at university in Sociology and Communication Sciences.

Introduction

What do I mean with ‘story’?  I don’t intend to offer tips on how to fine-tine the mechanics of telling stories to enhance the desired effect on listeners.

I wish to examine the most compelling story about storytelling – namely, how we tell stories about ourselves to ourselves. Indeed, the idea of ‘one’s own story’ is so powerful, so native, that I hardly consider it a metaphor, as if it is some new lens through which to look at life.  Your story is your life.  Your life is your story. 

When stories we see touch us, they do so because they fundamentally remind us of what is most true or possible in life – even when it is a escapist romantic story or fairy tale or myth. If you are human, then you tell yourself stories – positive ones and negative, consciously and, far more than not, subconsciously.  Stories that span a single episode, or a year, or a semester, or a weekend, or a relationship, or a season, or an entire tenure on this planet.

Telling ourselves stories helps us navigate our way through life because they provide structure and direction. We are actually wired to tell stories. The human brain has evolved into a narrative-creating machine that takes whatever it encounters, no matter how apparently random and imposes on it ‘chronology and cause – and – effect logic’.  We automatically and often unconsciously, look for an explanation of why things happen to us and ‘stuff just happens’ is no explanation.

Stories impose meaning on the chaos; they organize and give context to our sensory experiences, which otherwise might seem like no more than a fairly colorless sequence of facts. Facts are meaningless until you create a story arond them.

By ‘story’ I mean those tales we create and tell ourselves and others, and which form the only reality we will ever know in this life.  Our stories may or may not conform to the real world. They may or may not inspire us to take hope – filled action to better our lives. They may or may not take us where we ultimately want to go. But since our destiny follows our stories, it is imperative that we do everything in our power to get our stories right.

For most of us, that means some serious editing.

The movie “Eat Pray Love,” especially its segments set in Rome, offers a rich illustration of the concept that our lives are fundamentally stories we tell ourselves—stories that shape our identity, guide our actions, and ultimately define our destiny. In Rome, the protagonist Elizabeth Gilbert embarks on a journey of rediscovery through pleasure, food, and sensory experience, which relates deeply to how humans use stories to impose meaning and structure on life’s chaos.

In the “Eat” part of the story, Rome exemplifies a place where Elizabeth learns to reconnect with herself after emotional turmoil. The city’s vibrant energy, rich culture, and renowned culinary delights immerse her in a narrative of physical pleasure and simple joys. This phase reflects the importance of creating positive, life-affirming stories about oneself. Elizabeth’s story in Rome is about reclaiming her identity and savoring existence, illustrating how our internal narratives can move from pain to healing through new, meaningful experiences. The narrative she constructs here is about pleasure, indulgence, and rediscovery—elements that impose a satisfying order on what had previously been emotional chaos.

Elizabeth’s experience in Rome underscores how stories transform mere facts and events into meaningful journeys. Eating well, enjoying art, and embracing the Italian pace of life become symbolic acts that help her rewrite her story from one of suffering to one of joy and self-appreciation. The movie vividly portrays this by focusing on sensory encounters, which represent the tangible moments through which we understand and reshape ourselves. This aligns with the idea that our brains seek cause and effect, chronology, and rationale; in Rome, Elizabeth’s sensory experiences provide the “why” and “how” for her story of personal growth.

The narrative Elizabeth crafts in Rome is crucial because it demonstrates how our self-told stories direct our destinies. By choosing to embrace pleasure and connection with her body and senses, she steers her life toward healing and balance. The movie visually and thematically captures this concept: our stories shape our choices and future paths, emphasizing the imperative of “getting our stories right.” Elizabeth’s editing of her personal narrative—letting go of past pain, embracing new joys—illustrates the process of revising life stories to better reflect one’s true self and aspirations.

Rome, with its layers of history, art, and culture, becomes a metaphor for the layers of human experience and storytelling. The city’s combination of ancient and vibrant modern life reflects how our stories build upon past experiences while offering new meanings and directions. Just as Rome harmonizes epochs and styles into a coherent identity, Elizabeth’s story in the movie shows how one can integrate pleasure, suffering, and spiritual searching into a unified narrative that defines one’s reality.

In sum, the movie segment set in Rome vividly illustrates the thesis that our lives are stories we author and that these stories—rooted in sensory experience, emotional healing, and conscious choice—provide the coherence and meaning we need to navigate life successfully. Elizabeth Gilbert’s journey in Rome is a testament to the power of storytelling to transform chaos into meaning and to create a life worth living through intentional narrative shaping. This resonates deeply with the idea that “your life is your story, and your story is your life”—a compelling reminder of the profound human capacity for narrative creation and self-reinvention.

Stories to Navigate Our Way Through Life

Telling ourselves stories helps us navigate our way through life because they provide structure and direction. We are actually wired to tell stories. The human brain has evolved into a narrative-creating machine that takes whatever it encounters, no matter how apparently random and imposes on it ‘chronology and cause – and – effect logic’.  We automatically and often unconsciously, look for an explanation of why things happen to us and ‘stuff just happens’ is no explanation.

Stories impose meaning on the chaos; they organize and give context to our sensory experiences, which otherwise might seem like no more than a fairly colorless sequence of facts. Facts are meaningless until you create a story arond them.

Roman Holiday, the classic 1953 film set in the eternal city of Rome, beautifully illustrates how stories give structure and meaning to life’s chaos. It tells the tale of Princess Ann, a royal weighed down by her scripted, highly controlled life. Feeling stifled by the relentless demands of her public role, she escapes secretly into the sprawling city’s streets, craving a taste of freedom and normalcy.

The story begins in a chaotic swirl with Ann overdosed on sedatives, found asleep on a public bench by American journalist Joe Bradley. What follows is a spontaneous, beautifully crafted day of discovery that imposes narrative order on randomness. Joe, initially unaware that the woman he shelters is a princess, embodies the human brain’s natural impulse to create a cause-and-effect tale: his curiosity leads him to unravel the mystery of Ann’s identity, while she, in turn, narrates her own yearning for autonomy by changing her appearance, taking scooter rides through bustling Roman traffic, and devouring all the experiences that royal protocol had denied her.

Underlying Roman Holiday is the fundamental human need for story. It is not just a romantic comedy but a vivid demonstration of how we impose cause-effect logic on our experiences to carve meaning from chaos. The princess’s tightly controlled public life is a sequence of facts—duties, obligations, appearances—that become colorless without the story of her escape and day of freedom. By fleeing her palace, she creates a powerful narrative of rebellion and self-discovery that transforms disconnected events into a coherent and emotionally moving journey.

Joe’s role as a journalist also highlights how stories shape perspectives. He initially sees the princess as an opportunity for an exclusive scoop, a transactional story. Yet, as he walks with Ann through Rome’s piazzas, cafes, and famous landmarks, he moves from exploitation to empathy, transforming his own story about Ann into one of genuine human connection and respect. This shift captures how stories we tell ourselves evolve, shaping our understanding of others and ourselves.

The film’s visual and narrative structure mirrors the storytelling process itself. The sequence of their shared adventures—haircut at the barber shop, scooter ride past the Trevi Fountain, playful encounter at the Mouth of Truth, the revelatory dance on a riverboat—provides clear narrative markers that organize the sensory overload of Rome into digestible chunks of meaning. Each episode becomes a chapter in the princess’s temporary liberation and Joe’s changed intentions, illustrating the brain’s need for chronology and causality.

Ultimately, Roman Holiday reminds us that we are wired to tell stories not just to entertain but to make sense of life and to navigate it. The princess’s story ends bittersweetly, accepting the return to her royal life but forever transformed by the day’s narrative of freedom and love. The story that she and Joe create, even in silence, continues to shape their lives beyond the film’s conclusion. In this way, the movie exemplifies how stories give context to facts and choice to chance, ensuring that life is more than a random series of events but a meaningful journey crafted by narrative.​

What Do I Mean with Story?

By ‘story’ I mean those tales we create and tell ourselves and others, and which form the only reality we will ever know in this life.  Our stories may or may not conform to the real world. They may or may not inspire us to take hope – filled action to better our lives. They may or may not take us where we ultimately want to go. But since our destiny follows our stories, it is imperative that we do everything in our power to get our stories right.

For most of us, that means some serious editing.

A great biographical story of a woman in Rome who powerfully illustrates the concept of “story” as the tale we create and tell ourselves, shaping our reality and destiny, is that of Livia Drusilla, later known as Julia Augusta, the first Empress of Rome.

Livia’s life exemplifies how our stories may or may not conform to external realities but inevitably define our paths—and how deliberate story editing is key to shaping destiny. Born into a politically turbulent period, Livia was initially constrained by Roman laws and customs that severely limited women’s formal power: she could not vote, own property, or hold office. Yet, through sheer strategic acumen and social intelligence, she authored an extraordinary personal narrative of influence and resilience.

Despite the rigid framework of Roman patriarchy, Livia reshaped her identity and role by mastering the art of behind-the-scenes political maneuvering. She became the trusted adviser and wife of Emperor Augustus, quietly controlling power by managing relationships, controlling information, and surviving the deadly intrigues of imperial Rome. Her story is one of navigating chaos—threats from enemies, exile, and volatile politics—and creating coherence and power from it.

Livia’s life was marked by deliberate editing of her story. From a vulnerable exile fleeing with her infant son to becoming the key figure stabilizing the empire, she rewrote the narrative of what it meant to be a woman in Rome. She projected an image of Roman virtue, intelligence, and dignity that concealed ruthless pragmatism. More than just a consort, she was the architect of her family’s legacy, securing the succession of her son Tiberius after Augustus. Her story defies the era’s norms yet defines the power and enduring impact a woman could achieve within and beyond those limits.

By telling herself and others a story not of victimhood but of calculated strength and loyalty, Livia shaped her reality and Rome’s future. Her legacy shows that while our stories may not always match the apparent facts or initial conditions, they form the reality we experience and influence the course of history. Livia’s narrative arc—from constrained noblewoman to matriarch of the Roman Empire—embodies the imperative to rewrite and refine our stories, editing them with intention to steer our destiny toward power, survival, and transformation