Why Storytelling…
Storytelling involves a teller and a listener (usually one of the first and several of the latter). It’s inherently an exchange—an it-takes-at-least-two kind of art.
And it’s of the now. Right here, in this moment, between the teller (me) and the listener (you). My memory of past events, how I’m thinking/feeling about them now, and how I’m reacting to your reacting to them all congeals to form something called a story.
Why bother with stories?
Living in the Information Age means there’s content everywhere - any kind we want, any time, in any medium. You can swim in content all day long if you desire. Especially entertainment content - books, movies, music, TV shows, video games, news, or endless feeds of updates, etc.
What storytelling offers is an active connection. Not just to a story or to your emotions or memories or your imagination, but to another human and their real life right now.
Relating. Relationship. Right now in this moment. Company. It’s an invitation to a conversation right now with another person offered through their very breath, voice, words. A chance to have someone (like me) show up and give you 110% of themselves and for you to give 110% of yourself - just by being you and offering your attention. To make art by being human together.
Often in a story, a storyteller reveals themselves with an honesty and candor you may only otherwise get from a best friend. They divulge details about the ups and downs—moments of delight and moments of despair. And as a listener, you’re a witness, to this person you don’t even know—exposing their range of being fully human, right there in front of you—for you. For the connection. In hopes you might relate to them—different than you though they may look, sound, be—as a fellow human. As a neighbor. As a companion on this crazy journey called Life.
Maybe you relate to the events of the story,
or the thought process of the teller, or another character in the story, or a place described, or the moment of shared awareness that happens when the teller reacts to the specific reaction you and the other listeners are having in that room (or in the Zoom). Maybe something seems familiar and suddenly you’re relating to another human and their life story.
In a world that’s full of content it takes a lot of critical engagement and research to figure out what the actual facts are and how and why they should matter to you. Storytelling simplifies things. You and a storyteller each share your time and attention with each other just by being yourselves because you’re both here in this moment together. And what could be a better “why” than being fully present for and with another person during a precious moment of our very short lives.
Maybe to regain our sense of what’s real and actual we can start with each other—
by listening to someone share a story about their actual life experiences and all the thoughts and feelings that came with it. And relating to something about the story—something about the experience of this fellow human. Maybe it helps us figure out who we are (and who we’re not) and what it’s like to be somebody else. Maybe that builds empathy for each other. Maybe that empathy builds compassion in community. Maybe communities with more compassion build a better nation or world…
Maybe, as a teller, it’s just nice to feel seen and heard. Maybe, as listeners, it feels good to have a chance to open our minds and hearts and ears to a new voice and story we haven’t heard before for the chance to be surprised or discover something new about them, about the world, or about ourselves. Maybe it’s nice to be engaged right here, right now, in this moment. In good company.
That’s storytelling. For me, anyway. Like a pop-up party to which we’re all invited to show up just as we are and find out who we might become when our lives are in conversation.
Thanks for reading,
Krista