A Meditation on Storytelling

Cave paintings of ancient megafauna, pictorial hieroglyphics in Egyptian tombs, scholarly epiphanies on a paper scroll, and whispered recordings into a 21st century smart phone all reveal the same truth: humans are compelled to tell their own stories. 

I’ve recently been mystified by this reality. That we are all apart of the cacophonous chorus of human voices reaching out across space and time to pronounce our existence is a humbling experience. We are, at once, a unique voice cutting through the noise and a quiet note amidst the chaos. 

Like generations and generations that have come before us we are called to meditate on the way we live, the way we love, the way we laugh, the way we grieve, the way we experience this gut-wrenching, heartwarming, thing we call life. Each time we put pen to paper or breath to microphone we are taking part in a great tradition. 

The connections we form can be small or many, known and unknown. That a Greek bard would have his words written onto paper and read by students a continent away is miraculous. That a song you shared with your friends made them burst into tears is miraculous too. We are all bleeding hearts desperate for stories that make us say “How did you know exactly what I was feeling?”

When you get discouraged - unable to continue your artistic pursuits - remember this: there is no telling how far your song and your story might travel. You may live to experience the impact or the impact may be generations away. It is not your job to decide. It is simply your duty to keep telling your story.