Stepping out of the story

Can we step out of our life story and see what it looks like?

I was relaxing on a weekend afternoon and the day was bright. I was staring out of window, looking at the terrace of a building far away. On it, there was a small shade made of metal sheet supported by four pillers of concrete. In foreground, the cloths are drying my balcony. And I kept looking at that useless little shade..what was it's purpose? As I kept looking at it, the same feeling realization rose in me: what is the purpose of my story? Am I really the one who I believe to be? And all the significant characters in my story; including my own image; started to lose importance.

I felt, "I am". And I was so eager to utter/feel the next word within myself...but it never came up. It never came up. And it still didn't feel incomplete. After a while, I stood up and went to water and drank a glassful while still being out of the story and laughed at it.

The key question is:

Are we happy just living our little story? At least, we should be a thing or a phenomenon that encompasses that story and allows it to go on. We may still marvel at the specificity of that story and how it turned out to be and how it may still unfold. But at least to me, that specificity is very limiting. I am convinced that we are much bigger phenomena than what people think about us or even what we think about us most of the time. I feel severely limited by my degrading body, mind and environment and one day it will all bite the dust. But equally certainly, I am sure there is a way beyond all this.

At least I do not want to flip through pages of my life story on my deathbed and feel satisfied about it.