The Storyteller Tells Her Stories
February 20, 2010
It’s time to take a leap. Every now and then in your life, more often then I’d like, it’s time to take a deeper plunge, a bigger risk and really go for the gold. So I am going to be writing and telling my own very personal and sometimes painful stories for the very first time.
Whew! Breathe.
It’s not easy! I make it look and seem easy for other people, that’s my gift. But damn it is really hard to do for myself. Luckily I have found just the right team as it honestly takes a team to pull these stories out of me. They don’t want to come out on their own.
These stories are like little long-fingered underwater creatures who are gripping onto the rocks so they don’t have to let go. Eeeeeek!
Why is it so scary to tell personal stories? Very personal stories.
Gosh, I could give you a long list of the reasons that it’s so scary. It seems silly to say but it actually feels life threatening to a part of us. Telling our stories is a way out of the box that we have lived in. We are bound by the emotions, the memories and the meanings of our past stories and thus like the famous Pandora’s box, we must liberate them.
Fortunately as I said, I have just the right team – I have my wonderful reliable weekly writing buddy whom I meet weekly at the local Barnes and Noble coffee shop so we can write together. We’ve been doing this for some months now.
In case you’d want to know my reason for meeting there – it’s because they have sunshine streaming in the windows (I need to feel warm), great Earl Grey tea (I need to have good tea) and a bag of delicious potato chips doesn’t hurt.
Basically it’s a good way to bribe myself to keep on going doing something that is hard!
Then I have my fabulous listening buddy who is helping me tell the stories orally. Written stories and orally told stories are two very different animals and so I know from my own story guiding of others, that the deeper, more painful and often more powerful stories need to be ‘listened out of you.’
My story Maestro listens to me very carefully. He is impeccable in his listening, which is what I really need. He does not trod on my heart nor make those kinds of comments afterwards that make you wish you’d never told your story. He wears a white velvet glove of purity that makes the telling easy.
To be impeccable in your listening you have to be out of your out of your own way – be really silent and really present.
But here is the best part of all. He also makes me laugh while I’m crying! Yesterday was a perfect example.
Yesterday as I was telling a difficult story (and blowing my nose through the telling), I suddenly heard an indescribable noise, a kind of ‘crkkkkrrrrrr‘ sound. Hmm, what was that???
He didn’t say anything about it and I heard him make an ‘uh huh‘ sound like he was listening, so I just carried on.
A minute later I couldn’t hear him, so I asked, “Are you there Chief?” (that’s one of my nicknames for him). Then there was the sound of scramble, scramble, scramble and then he says, “Yes I’m here. I just kicked the microphone over.” Perfect timing!
It was perfect timing. I started laughing so loudly that my crying and snorting turned into guffawing. It was a priceless moment.
Perfect for the storyteller to be paused mid-sob for a moment of sheer humor. My impeccable listener, who was working so hard to be there for me knocked over his microphone and was trying to retrieve it without interrupting.
I am still laughing just picturing him trying to rebound without disrupting my story. What a riot!
These are the precious moments of storytelling. In that moment I realized that it’s not just the telling of the story that is important, but every thing beautiful that surrounds it – the bonding that happens between two humans as they listen and share and the moments of pure delight when real life magic happens and humor appears out of nowhere.
This is the true magic of storytelling.
I am pr
oud, honored, scared and delighted to be telling my own raw and real stories. The deep ones, the raw ones, the ones that matter. If I can’t lead the way on then I’m not worth my metal.
Gotta leap, gotta take a dive.
Thanks to all my partners for supporting me. It takes a community to tell a story. I’d still be on the ledge without you. Thanks as well to all of my blog readers for caring about stories and storytelling. You make all the difference.
Stay tuned for more of the raw and real, the places we dive deep together and make life more fulfilling from taking risks.
Yours in diving into the heart of the matter and laughing about it all the way,
Annie
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