Telling Our Stories: What is it We REALLY Want?

Story telling is a very old tradition, and pretty much all writers and bloggers are — essentially — "story tellers."

Now, you may have other and perhaps more "obvious" responses... but what is it we really want, as story tellers?

Moreover, what is it we really want, as story tellers in a more personal and even spiritual/creative sense?

Although the way we phrase it might vary considerably from person to person, most of the time what we want is to be heard. We want the freedom to tell our stories, and we would like people to truly hear them, and perhaps relate on some deep and visceral level.

But "feeling heard" isn't always obvious. Meaning... that what it means to feel heard is not always what we think.

Not so long ago, I was having a long conversation with my wife about people sharing their stories. Her perspective is that of a 30-year Minister and Counselor/Therapist.

She made the interesting observation that one of the things we increasingly lack in modern society is "safe spaces" in which to share our stories.

Now, that doesn't mean "safe" in that strange and slightly creepy "woke" sense, but safe in the sense that someone will actually hear us and not just dismiss our inner experiences as moose puckey because it doesn't happen to match up with their world... and they are basically just "marking time" until the next time they get to talk. Being a genuine active listener requires mindfulness.

From the therapeutic realm (and somewhat from the spiritual) her point was that the reason so many people are in therapy — rather than talking through things with their mates, as was the norm 50+ years ago — is that people no longer feel "safe" to state their inner truth, lest they be judged to be some kind of hysterical nutjob and immediately dismissed.

But most of us have had experiences; experiences that deeply affected us and perhaps ended up informing our entire lives, from that point forward. But we keep those thoughts to ourselves... because we feel isolated, and like there is nobody around us we can tell.

On a personal level, I have always been able to use the written word — and in the age of technology, blogging — as that "safe space," at such times as I didn't have a person nearby I could confide in.

Which brings us back to "telling our stories," and what we really want, from doing so.

Indeed, we want to feel heard, because we feel like we have something potentially profound to share. But why? In most cases, it is simply the telling that matters most.

Perhaps you have experienced this, yourself: You see something, or have some kind of experience and it leads to tumultuous thoughts... that just won't go away. But when you finally find the courage to tell someone else, you suddenly feel much better!

The value in telling our stories lies not only in feeling heard, but also in the slightly "woo-woo" reality that we get to set them free, rather than keeping them eternally bottled up inside, until one day — perhaps — they inappropriately burst forth at an inopportune time.

Whether our "story" is that we are a dedicated red-blooded muscle car builder/restorer and firearms collector... who's addicted to watching endless kitten videos on YouTube, or we're not sure who to tell that we really did see an alien craft one night while driving in a desolate location, or stories matter. And the telling of them matter.

And most of all, I believe what we really want is for it to be OK for us not only to have those stories, but to be able to tell them to an audience who will not dismiss, insult or negatively judge us for those stories.

And no, I'm not particularly "woke." But I am very aware of how traumatizing events from our past have a way of manifesting themselves as harsh and cruel behavior and speech in our present.

And how past wounds sometimes manifest themselves as inappropriate lashing out at others when they — somehow — reach a part of us where we might have to feel our own feelings, as a result of our stories.

Toltec Shaman Don Miguel Ruiz once observed: "Listening is love." No, it's not some famous quote... it was something he told me once, while we were eating lunch together at a retreat center in Austin, Texas, many many years ago. It has stuck with me ever since.

Perhaps it bears remembering, in the context of story telling.

Thanks for reading, and have a wonderful New Year's weekend!

Comments, feedback and other interaction is invited and welcomed! Because — after all — SOCIAL content is about interacting, right? Leave a comment — share your experiences — be part of the conversation! I do my best to answer comments, even if it sometimes takes a few days!

(As usual, all text and images by the author, unless otherwise credited. This is original content, created expressly and uniquely for this platform — NOT posted anywhere else!)
Created at 2023-12-30 21:48 PST
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