Focus on Stories
“Share Me a Story” Why we share stories
F
rom a distance the scene may appear chaotic. A group of women working around a table kneading dough for pastries and dumplings, flour on their colorful aprons, moving from steaming pots of seasoned steamed vegetables and rice, stirring the boiling beans and potatoes, peeking into the oven at the main dish (the one with the secret ingredient only Auntie Carmen knows). Simmering fresh fruit shiny with honey moved to a cooling rack, cupboards opening and closing for spices to season the stew. A small sprinkle of sugar for the pastries with a wisp of coconut shavings, and the soft sizzling sound of onions sautéed in the right fashion. The room is loud with laughter and interaction! Yet nobody’s task is ignored. Three ongoing conversations happen all at once, and everyone can keep up with the evolving pace of each individual story, kneading in comments, mixing lighthearted words. As a child I imagined each dish prepared had pieces of stories baked in or delicately stirred through use of observation, insight, a joke, a profound thought, even a cautionary word. The table set and after a prayer of gratitude over the meal, I feasted on these stories as if every word were cooked, prepared, and served just for me. A banquet of stories. Why do we share stories? Stories help us make sense out of our lives.1 They engage us in communication at a personal, deeper level, where empathy and understanding take place; where humanity encounters the thin, fragile threads of emotions and logic; the place where the improbable is tangible through personal and shared experiences.2 I believe stories can bridge a chasm and shorten a learning curve; we gather valuable lessons from stories that do not belong to us but are shared with us. I think back to that childhood banquet of stories. INSPIRATION
Sunday morning I set the table for a brunch in honor of Erin, a new friend. I listen to my friends talking and laughing in my kitchen. These friends are family, as we have shared stories, shared a
