I met my first storyteller when I was aged 8. Up until then I had had stories read to me and lovely it was too. Being told a story, eye to eye, was something else entirely and many years later I am still telling those tales.
Outside of friends and family, I started telling stories myself about ten years ago now and it has gained momentum over the past two to three years. Something unexpected has struck me.
Over and again I have had people approaching me after a storytelling session and said how moved they had been, often looking at me with smiling and glistening eyes. Usually the tales that I had been telling were gentle and light hearted, not necessarily the deeper more pensive ones.
Whilst listening to a story something profound is going on, grown-ups are transported back and re discover the inner child who is still there. Watching that happen is a wonderful thing.
I practiced in the NHS as a GP until a few years ago, when I hit the big six-o and the pension scheme set me free. It seems that when you finish a medical career you can run but you cannot hide! I was approached last year and asked if I would lead a storytelling workshop for a group of trainee GPs in Worcester. We had a great time, played silly games, told tales and discussed story as an effective teaching and communication medium. I was thrilled to be asked to repeat the exercise a few weeks ago with the experienced doctors who are doing the training.
At both storytelling workshops with these trained professional groups, some of them too told of their emotional reaction and, to quote the organiser’s feedback ‘I noticed a lot of shining eyes at home time’.
What a fabulous thing, I love telling stories!
Story box primed for workshop and ready to go. Why the hugging salt and pepper shakers? Ah now, that’s another story!