The Staying Power of a Good Story
Our lives are stories, and we are the main characters. Each of us lives in our own story, not often paying attention to the stories of others around us unless we feel their direct impact. Like ripples in a pond, there are smaller stories that expand to include more characters and details to create larger stories.
At the narrowest point of your life is your personal story. Then there is the story of your family. Then perhaps your business or workplace. Then the story of your neighborhood. Your city. Your state. Your country. The world. Yet most of us live only at the tiny apex of our own story, forgetting about all the other stories that surround us, that got us there and that influence everything around us on a daily basis.
Stories Drive Empathy
This is why storytelling is important – in business, in art, and in life. When we read or hear the stories of others, we are pulled out of that myopic perspective and reminded that we are connected to a greater whole, a larger purpose, an intricate web of humanity. We think bigger, act bolder, and feel more deeply. Stories connect us.
When we are only living in our own microcosm of a story, we cannot truly connect with others. And in order to live well, do business well, create art that makes an impact, we must connect. We cannot merely view others as supporting characters in our own story. They each have their own stories they are living too.
In order to increase empathy, connect with others and collaborate together for greater good, we must step into another’s story. This helps us expand our mind and improve our neuroplasticity. When we stretch our perspective to include other ways of thinking, we are exercising intellectual flexibility and showing compassion for others who may live completely different lives from our own. If growth – individually, as a family, as a business, as a community, as a society – is the purpose of life, stories are the soil that nurtures our roots.
The Gift of Storytelling
The more stories I read and write, the more I see the connections, the patterns, the ways our roots are intertwined. To connect with another’s story is to love them. And ultimately, I believe love is why we are here. Yet, to effectively share your story in a way that reaches others – through writing or verbally – is not easy. Some of us love to simply listen to a good story, others of us have a passion for storytelling and crafting language, and then there are the natural storytellers among us for whom the act is like breathing.
I remember one such storyteller from my adolescence, a camp counselor who told us fantastical stories as she tucked us in our bunk beds each night. She read from no book and told no two stories the same way. The spontaneous adventures we embarked on through her imagination were magical. I don’t remember the details of each story, but I do remember how she made me feel: inspired, whisked away, curious and connected.
The Impact of Immersive Stories
Even if you do not consider yourself a storyteller, chances are you can at least appreciate a good story. It is human nature to do so. As Frank Rose writes in The Sea We Swim In: How Stories Work In a Data-Drive World,
“What researchers are finding is that we seem to understand stories by projecting ourselves into them; that the more fully we project ourselves, the more immersed in the story we become; and that the more immersed we become, the more likely the story is to affect our attitudes on what the story is about.”
What I remember so clearly about the stories my camp counselor told us is that feeling of being immersed. I certainly projected myself into them, closing my eyes as the crickets chirped outside our screened-in cabin, letting my mind drift away to the land she described. All my troubles melted away, and I became one with the main character. It was the same feeling I experienced – and still do – each time I read a good novel. And it continues to be the same feeling I get when I read anything immersive, from nonfiction to a news article to the about page of a company making a profound impact.
Perhaps now you are inspired to write an immersive story – to share with your children, to tell your customers or community, or even to help someone else learn a lesson or heal. Where do you begin? What story do you have to tell? Here are some prompts to help you begin:
What is a powerful past lesson you’ve learned, and how did you learn it?
Describe a meaningful experience with a client, vendor, mentor or friend.
Imagine your family members (including animals) as fantastical creatures or each representing a color – what fictional story could you weave about them?
What “aha moment” have you had recently, and what decisions led up to it?
How Sharing Your Story Sets You Free
There is a freedom in releasing stories from your past, letting them run wild through tall grass and feel the sunlight on their faces. When I get stories from my own past down on the page, I notice that freeing them from the confines of my mind feels like a kindness. There’s a good chance someone else will read them, see them in all their wildness and be inspired to free their own stories too.
I recently saw my therapist, and as I was processing some disappointment, she asked me how it feels for me to be disappointed. I teared up. “It’s the worst feeling I can ever experience,” I said. “I still remember a time in my childhood – silly as it may sound – when my family went camping and I forgot the mystery novel I was right in the middle of. This might not be a big deal to many people, but for me, the bookworm, it was devastating. Three days in the wilderness with nothing to read?! What was I going to do? I cried the whole car ride up into the mountains.”
I continued, realizing in real time how this story had been affecting me all these years, “That feeling of disappointment – whether I let myself down or others let me down – weighs heavy on me. I like to be in control of all aspects of my life.” I paused. Sharing this story out loud – remembering that visceral feeling of wanting something so badly and having disappointed myself because I forgot it – shed significant light on why I make the choices I do.
Rewriting the Narrative
Now that I have written it out, I can see that sad, disappointed little girl as separate from me, as a character in a story from long ago. I resonate with her, but I also know I am not her any longer. I am free to make different choices now and even rewrite the narrative if I choose. Avoiding disappointment does not have to be a motivating factor for me any longer.
Yes, it is disappointing to miss out on something you wanted. And I also remember how much fun I had with my brother on that camping trip building rock walls, whittling sticks and running through the woods. We created what we called our “Chop Shop,” which is now a tradition I have passed down to my own children. (They play Chop Shop every time we go camping. Yes, even as teenagers!) I might not have created the Chop Shop with my brother or explored nature in the way I did had my nose been stuck in a book the whole trip.
“...in more natural playgrounds, children invented whole sagas that they carried from day to day to day – making and collecting meaning.”
-Richard Louvre, Last Child in the Woods
The Chop Shop provided an outlet of invention for me, a way to create stories through action – in nature. While reading stories can be a wonderful way to spark creativity, the mind can also benefit from an escape from words. The absence of something often makes it much more valuable when it returns.
Telling and writing this small story above has freed me. Rewriting the memory as one that sparked ongoing creativity for years to come helped me transform regret into joy. I am less worried now about disappointment and more curious about what could come about when I must pivot. I feel grateful for the steady presence of nature to remind me that creativity can come from out of nowhere. And I feel more connected to my brother, my children, the friends with whom I’ve shared this newly rewritten story, and you.
Forging a Connection That Lasts
In storytelling, it’s fascinating to witness the principle of freedom begetting freedom, in action. When we take action to free our stories, we inspire others to do the same. This forges a connection so deep it lasts, often beyond our lifetime. When we feel seen by someone else’s experience, known in that intimate way only a really good story can know us, we are forever changed. And we feel compelled to say, “Me too. I am human too.”
It is this resonance, this emotion, that drives human connection, familial legacy and customer loyalty. We all make decisions from our emotions, whether we want to admit it or not. We can tap into this emotional well directly through a story. Inviting others to the well, sharing our own experiences, lessons learned, and passion for what we do, we give of ourselves, offering life-giving substance.
When a story is well told or well written, it stays in the mind of the reader for a time, spinning around and rising to the surface when they need it most. If a story is so good it immerses the reader in another world or life, it may saturate their heart with emotional staying power. These are the stories that change the course of a life, provide peace in the midst of chaos, and transform us when we least expect it.
“The idea is to write it so that people hear it and it slides through the brain and goes straight to the heart.”
-Maya Angelou
It takes a willingness to explore the depths of ourselves in order to write such a story; it is not for the faint of heart. However, for many, the process of writing their story not only helps others, but heals themselves. The staying power exists for both the reader and the writer, awakening an age-old human connection that transcends space and time. It is that connection that we are after, that fulfills and sustains us, giving us a sense of purpose beyond ourselves. At its essence, good storytelling has staying power because it achieves oneness.
What story do you hold within you that you know has staying power?
