Last week I sat in a circle with about ten others. It was the second time I taught a course called Tell It, a one-day journey through the Telling Your Story course curriculum. We were going around the room, introducing ourselves and filling in a bit of the story of how we came be there--in that workshop on that day.
Two or three people said, "I wanted to take this course last year, but I was too scared."
I had heard such rumblings the previous year, which is why I decided to offer it a second time. "I wanted to take your class, but I'm too introverted." "I wanted to take the course, but I'm not one of those Really Confident People."
I knew I needed to do a better job at describing what this work is and who it's for, because you don't have to be a stage performer to do this work. You don't have to be the Life of the Party or the One Who Always Tells Stories at Family Dinners (I'm not). The majority of my storytelling friends are more likely to be the ones thoughtfully observing life as it unfolds, not riding it like a mechanical bull and slapping its ass.
Here is what I know for sure:
- Everyone has stories worth telling.
- Yes, I mean YOU.
- Making conscious choices about the stories we tell ourselves and others transforms us.
- For that reason, it requires courage.
- The courage to see, to be true, to change.
- And the courage to share our stories and ourselves. To be seen just as we are, and just as we are not.
- It is a journey best made in the company of kindreds: seekers, truth-tellers, occasional cover-divers. People who know that crumbly knee-wobbly feeling that is what it feels like to be brave.