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“All stories are true.” – Ibo proverb

 

 

about-storytellers“All stories are true.”

There is great power in stories. This is basic to the human experience. When we think of stories being told, the image of ancient peoples sitting in a circle around a fire comes to mind.  Perhaps the gift of one person in the ancient community was the gift of story-telling, and so they were designated to tell the story of the community. The story brought the people together, and the telling of the story brought the people together with their ancestors, their history, and to their unconscious connections to past, present, and even future.

We still tell stories. Something in us wants to tell stories, and so we do. How often have we told one another where we were and how we heard about the events of 9/11, when the story of our nation in this post-modern era was forever changed?  Why do we turn on the evening news, except to hear the story of the day, a story to which we are connected, like it or not?

What story of your own do you tell, again and again? What is the story of your life you would tell at this moment, at this time?

There is great power in stories. To heal from trauma, we must tell someone our story. Sometimes the details of the story change, but the story must be told, over and over and over again, to release the trauma. It is our need to tell the story. It is also our need to find someone who is safe to be the recipient of the story.  When we are grieving, we need to tell the story of our grief, of our loss, of our troubles.

We need to speak our story to someone, to a community, that is safe.

Who is safe? Well, I can say who is not safe. Someone who interrupts to insert their own opinions or their own story, is not safe. Someone who wants to give advice is not safe. Someone who wants to change our story for reasons of their own is not safe. Someone who has an interest in keeping us trapped in our story is not safe.  Sometimes our closest friends are not safe.  Maybe we need to find others to listen, other friends, who are safe.

Certainly, someone who does not honor the importance and the privilege of hearing our story is not safe.  Do not share your story with someone who cannot be trusted to keep the story safe, safe from telling others, safe from gossiping about your story.  You are the keeper of your story, and as the keeper, it is your responsibility to care for your story, as you would a child, keeping the story safe from those who will abuse the story.  You are responsible for your story.

There is great power in stories, and stories must be told. Our healing is in the telling.

Sometimes, stories need to be told again and again until their true kernel is discovered, through the telling of the story. Sometimes, we tell the story over and over again, as if we are turning a beautiful, rough rock in our hands, looking at it from many angles. We feel it, we sense it, we see it, we run our fingers over it. And so it is with the telling and the re-telling of our stories.

“All stories are true.” The details of a story are not often true. We see this in ancient scriptures, when sometimes the same story is told in many versions, from chapter to chapter, book to book. The details change. But the power of the story remains.

How often have you heard someone you love tell a story, and as you listen, you realize that the story – which you have certainly heard many times before! – is being told for a certain effect: to impress, to remember, to grieve, to instill with a particular meaning. And so you have witnessed, you have known that the details are not always true, but the story remains, the story is true.

What is your story? Who will you honor by telling your story? Choose carefully! Choose someone who is safe to hear your story! Choose someone who will honor your story – honor you – by listening, quietly, with great presence, with respect. Choose someone who will not degrade your story by telling it to others as gossip, as if the story was not rich and important. Your story – whatever it is! – is your richest gift to the world.

When you tell your story, you begin to see yourself in new ways. When you tell your story, you see the empty places, the things that are missing. You see the characters in the story, and you see who has had power in your story. As time goes on, and as you tell the story again and again, you begin to see the shifting of the story.

Perhaps you need to become the hero of your own story, because you are the hero of your life. Life is difficult, for all people. When you tell your story, you begin to look at it differently. Maybe you see the parts that are missing, the parts you are not telling, that you are ashamed to tell, that you have been told are not worthy to tell. This is not true.

And when you tell your story, over and over and over again, sometimes you may find that you are tiring of your own story! Some things that were true are no longer true, and will never be true for you again. You have grown. Maybe you’ve outgrown the story you have been telling. It is time to tell another story.

“All stories are true.”

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“What’s Happenin’ – by poet Peggy Trojan

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What’s Happenin’
by
Peggy Trojan

Selma Makkela
printed all the news fit to print.
The Hemmilas had a boy,
Erickson’s cow was hit by lightening,
The Polks motored to Chicago
for their grandson’s graduation.
Nothing to cause you anger
or “take to bed worry.”
When you saw Willard
at the feed store, you could ask how
Mildred’s broken leg was coming along,
send an anniversary card
to the Mattsens,
keep an eye out for
Johnson’s lost calico cat.
The news connected you
to community,
safe in the knowledge
you were informed enough
to know just what
was going on.

Peggy Trojan retired from teaching English to the north woods of Wisconsin.
She enjoys quilting, gardening, picking berries, and writing poetry. She is a
member of the Wisconsin Fellowship of Poets.

I had an aunt, Edna Johnson, who also “printed all the news fit to print” in the Door County Advocate. When I would travel all the way from Green Bay to Ellison Bay (!) to see her for the weekend – about 80 miles – she’d make sure she mentioned that in her column. Everything was newsworthy, and we had to wait for news – wait for news to be published. That’s hard to believe for those of us who receive news every moment, at our fingertips.

But have we lost our sense of community, a community that cares, a community that takes notice, a community of real people, not “bits of information?” For as easy as information is to receive these days, connection does not seem easy to receive.

“Something’s lost, and something’s gained, in living every day…” from “Both Sides Now,” written by Joni Mitchell.

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Where everyone knows your name…

A friend of mine has a simple spiritual practice.  Let me share it with you today…

Wherever she goes, my friend asks each person she meets to please tell her their name.  For example, she asks the name of the server in the restaurant where she is meeting me for lunch.  Then, whenever she interacts with that person, she calls them by name.  It’s her way of making the world a kinder, more friendly place.  

Most of us like to be called by name, after all. Being called by name is an acknowledgement of our person- hood, our identity.  When we call another by name, we acknowledge them as an individual, a person who is important.  Thay are set apart.  They become important, recognized, seen.

Probably my friend will not change the world with her practice.  Our spiritual practice – no matter how important it may seem – does not have the power to change the world.  What our spiritual practice does change – who it changes – is us.  That’s the real power of our practice, that it slowly, powerfully changes us. We are shaped, in our being, by our practice.  What we do, then, we do, ultimately, for ourselves.  And its power is in its shaping of us, those who practice, into kinder, gentler, more loving human beings.  

And that is something the world, this one world of ours, needs – desperately.  We have to trust the outcome of our practice to One who is greater, more wise, more powerful.  And so, the very act of our practice invites us to trust.

Our practice, our service, our giving – given from us, given to us.

And so, without speaking her own name, my friend is opening the world- her own little world and the world of others.  One name at a time, this is her gift – her practice – to the world, for the world.

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I am not I…

 

 

spiritual-walk1

“I am not I.
I am this one
walking beside me whom I do not see,
whom at times I manage to visit,
and whom at other times I forget;
who remains calm and silent while I talk,
and forgives, gently, when I hate,
who walks where I am not,
who will remain standing when I die.”

Juan Ramon Jimenez

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The Wisdom in Waiting

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I’m not a person who likes to wait. Maybe you’re like me, maybe you’re not like me. I like things decided, things all wrapped up, nice and tidy, the edges clean, all the details taken care of. I like closure. “Holding things open for awhile” doesn’t seem to work well given my temperament.

I’ve noticed that some folks are better at waiting than others. When I sent a Christmas gift to my sister last year, she actually waited until Christmas morning to open it, although she knew it was something she really, really wanted. When she sends a gift to me, she always makes sure she writes in large letters, on the outside of the postal package: “DON’T OPEN UNTIL CHRISTMAS!” She must remember, from a long time ago, that I don’t like to wait.

In my years of working with people, I learned that some people are better at waiting than others. Some people like to hold all the options open, open, open – and open! – just in case another option presents itself. And some folks like to make up their minds and go with it. I’m in the second group, for sure. When I’m ready to check out at Target, I scan the lines, looking for the shortest one. How much stuff does the person ahead of me have in their cart? Oh no – as I’m scanning the lines, a couple of other people get into the shortest line ahead of me! Now I have to look for the shortest line, again.

Most of us, culturally, don’t like to wait, I think. We’re so accustomed to our google search coming up fast that we get frustrated if it takes a moment, if the computer hesitates in its search. Communications are getting faster and faster – how much faster can it get than text messaging? Plans for a rendezvous after work used to take hours – even days – to get on everyone’s calendar. Now, plans can be made in an instant.

We don’t seem to have more time, though, do we? As fast as communication and transportation are, we simply don’t have enough time for everything. We feel more and more rushed, all the time.

***
I want to suggest that there is a wisdom in waiting. To suggest this is actually counter-cultural for a fast moving people!

If we want wisdom, I think we have to wait. A life unfolds in its own time, its own pace. The infant who is crawling has to take many steps that include falling on her butt before she can take her first walking steps. As much as any child wants to grow up, the years of childhood must be lived. Each moment is another moment of creation, the ongoing creation of a human being.

I still don’t like to wait, but sometimes, waiting is the only action I can take. It helps me to think of waiting as an action. I can breathe, right down to the soles of my feet, when I’m standing in a long line. I can notice the people around me, even chat with the person behind me. I can complain about the long wait while I’m chatting!

That’s what I can do when larger things are at stake. I can breathe, I can enjoy the view, I can meet a stranger, I can savor the living of this moment, this moment, this moment, and this moment…

Sometimes, when we wait, something new, something completely unseen before, arises. Some new information arrives. Some feelings that have been buried come to the surface. Something is learned. Some part of us begins to trust more deeply.

To wait is practice, spiritual practice. Some things will never be changed, even if we charge in to change them with our most inspired plans. But if we wait, some new wisdom may emerge.

“Adopt the pace of nature; her secret is patience.” – Ralph Waldo Emerson