What's with the stories?

Definition of obsess (v)

1. never stop thinking about something: to occupy somebody's thoughts constantly and exclusively
2. be preoccupied: to think or worry about something constantly and compulsively

Synonyms: preoccupy, grip, consume, fixate, possess, fascinate

 

I am obsessed with Stories. I think about them all day long. I do not discriminate between types of stories, subject matter, or format. I think about books, songs, movies, tall tales, private tales, memories, dreams, status updates, moments... all of these moments captured in words or images. Real or imagined they have so much power.

 

I feel like I have never lived to be a part of a culture that is built around stories. Not in an authentic way at least. In olden times, before the spread of fast, simple information, stories written and shared verbally held the secrets of society. Our past was remembered in stories. It is celebrated in stories. I long for that intimate experience of just sharing your wisdom and life experience in a story.

 

In some ways this is being created where I work. Late at night when the guests are gone we share. not for intimacy but just to share. There is so much power in gifting someone your story. I want more.

 

There is a man who comes to my store every day. He is dying of cancer. One day he will stop coming in. There have been other people who just stopped coming in. How long will it take for us to notice when he slips away? How long before the story of this man is gone. My grandma used to eat at the same restaurant every single day. Sometimes she ate there multiple times. She sat in the same booth, ate the same food. When I was little I used to go with her. after eating she "made the rounds" she would stop at the thrift store and run various errands. She saw the same people every day. She would share her stories with these strangers. Some would roll their eyes (like I did) some would listen intently. I wonder how long it took them to notice when she stopped coming in.

 

When I think about my brother I realize there is so much information missing. I didn't really know him well. I don't know what his hopes and dreams were. I don't even know his favorite color. All of the people who could have given me insight have drifted away. When I dream about him he is still 10 years old, stuck forever as a little blond menace. The lack of information does not make his story any less powerful for me. Power. There is so much power in requesting a story from someone.

 

Tell me more. Tell me about the time...

 

Wow. you care. You are interested. MY life has value.

 

I am interested. I want to know peoples story. I want to capture them and share them. I want to ask you to share with me something you would like me to know. Tell me about the time...

 

sometimes sharing your story can help you heal. It is how I have processed having most of my family die away one by one. It is how I have processed a lot of baggage. It is why I blog. I have stories to share. I hope you are interested in experiencing them.