For the last 10 or more years I have been lost in the world of storytelling. It began when I confronted one of those career crises that people have when they get a bad boss for several years and you're too far into the career to quit or retire so you decide the answer is to 'ride it out'. The new question becomes, "How will I ride this out and keep my sanity at the same time?" In the middle of this mess I decided to take a weekend to go to the National Storytelling Festival in Jonesborough, TN. I had heard that this is was one of those events you must experience before you die. Totally convinced that nothing could really be THAT great, I went rather than stay home and rant about my mess at work.
By no means was I a stranger to storytelling because that was all we ever did when relatives visited our house. Every relative shared some true story about every other relative, and many times the stories were repeats from several months or years back. The odd part about this was that none of the family members ever said, "Are we going to talk about Uncle Link, AGAIN?!" Or, "You told that story last year." It simple was never said, and amazingly, we seemed to enjoy it just as much the fourth time as we had the first time. Even now this attitude of listening catches me by surprise. What were we doing and why were we doing this ritual? We talked about living relatives, dead relatives, odd neighbors, stupid decisions and actions, everyday life, illnesses, church gossip, family gossip, etc. I have no doubt that most families have talked about all of these things as well.
As a family we loved to laugh. The funnier the story the better we liked it so eventually some relatives were always called upon to tell their best or funniest story. During the telling new insights into humor would be gained and the stories just seemed to get better each year. Every now and then someone had a new catastrophe to share which was a real highlight. This new story would then be added to the collection. By the time I was grown I knew my 16 aunts and uncles, my grandparents, my parents, and a few great uncles and aunts who had 'interesting' personalities by the stories about them. Many of these people died before I was born or before I could remember so stories were the only way I knew them.
So I attended the storytelling festival that escape weekend, expecting to be entertained, but not swept away. I was deeply moved by the tellers, the stories, and the healing that began to happen as I listened to each new teller. I found my laughter again and the hurt moved out. I became re-acquainted with my roots, my heritage and my life before work, kids, marriage and career took over. I left the festival having touched my roots in a deep way.
Back in my so called 'real life' I knew I was reconnected to the family I left years ago in East Tennessee, and I had found a voice within me that could not be quiet. I simply had to share this former life somehow with my students and my world now. So the journey began with awkward attempts to write stories, then storytelling workshops, books about storytelling around the world, more storytelling events, and more storytelling festivals. Finally I found the courage to write one reasonably complete story, then another, and later I stumbled through the first telling of a story.
It's now been fifteen years since the discovery of my life as lived through stories. I survived the bad boss, the thirty year career, my kids launch from sports into career life, and their marriages. For some reason the last couple of years my focus has been on Mama, Aunt Ruby, Daddy, relatives, and our neighbors. Their voices, advise, and 'truths' constantly visit my thoughts in random ways. In time each of these find their way into a story. Sometimes I often reflect on the 'why' of this process and so far the only answer I have found is that these memories, the stories, the humor, the insight is simply my way of keeping THEM alive after they are long gone. I suppose, in turn, they are still a huge piece of my life source now. I'm simply amazed that their nurture is still supporting me.
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