Everybody has a story and all of us are telling those stories every day.
We live our stories out daily when we get up and do our thing. We jump into our cars and run to the store and the bank, or off to our jobs, and we have adventures. We meet people and engage with them, and we find ourselves in the middle of comedies and dramas. Sometimes we’re the stars of those shows, and sometimes we’re just an onlooker or part of the supporting cast.
Sometimes our stories have long, drawn out, dull stretches where there’s not much action … like when a good book sometimes needs to have a chapter or two where the author can lay the groundwork and paint a backdrop for the reader. And like a patient reader, we wait it out … better things will come soon.
And these stories we live out mean something … they shape us and teach us, and turn us – hopefully – into better versions of ourselves. Sometimes our stories are tragic, and they beat us up and tear us down. The tragic stories sometimes do the most shaping and teaching, and turn out to be the most valuable stories, despite the pain.
Mostly we’re each individually living out and tending to our own stories, though we do like to hear the stories from people we know and meet. Swapping our stories helps us connect with each other and our world and get important feedback to let us know how we’re getting along.
Some of us like to boisterously tell our stories to anyone with ears. Some of us prefer to keep our stories to ourselves, but even in our holding back, we are speaking volumes to others around us. Much of our storytelling is done through our demeanor and mannerisms. Delivery is just as important as content.
Some of our storytelling is our way of letting other people know that we know, too. Or counting on the feedback we’ll receive to give us the validation we desperately crave. Because a lot of the telling and delivery is about way more than simply giving out information.
Sprinkled among us are those individuals who are watching and listening intently to the stories happening all around them, and pondering the meaning of it all.
They fix our cars. They teach our children and fill our prescriptions. They pilot airplanes and drive buses and help us with our taxes.
Like Clark Kent ... all meek and unassuming … you’d never guess ...
Ordinary folks doing ordinary things every ordinary day, but ordinary folks who have a secret …
They are the storytellers.
Thank you.