It may sound rather silly, but I'm sure one thing that truly scares me is having my stories grow old. My mind and heart are filled with stories of foreign countries, sunrises, wild animals, extreme experiences, finding friends, places of happiness and humor. Will these memories and moments become a burden to me? Will anyone listen to my stories? When I am old, will I be able to remember my own stories? Will I remember how I felt?
The real reason I've thought of this seemingly odd fear I have developed is because I constantly get asked the same question. One a have grown to despise: "What's new?" I used to enjoy that question because I would have many fresh stories to tell about recent experiences. Now, it's a guarantee that I can answer that question in one word rather than in a series of stories strung together. That word is: nothing.
In the last three months, literally nothing 'is new'. I drive to and from work each day. My excitement comes from passing the same guy on the highway each day before and after school. I get excited to come home before it's dark out. I look forward to cutting our jungle lawn. If I'm lucky, I might have time to watch a show on Netflix.
This is my life now. I love my job, but as for a personal life, things are pretty bleak. It can't help that I live in a desolate town. Maybe it only seems this way as I have gone from one extreme (living in a city with four-point-some million people) to another (living in Saskatchewan).
Whoops, let's get back on track here. My fear, ah yes. Another way I have discovered that this is a fear of mine are moments I have where it's a perfect time to tell a story. I can jump into that conversation with "that reminds me of when I was living in Melbourne and..." or "We did something similar to that in New Zealand..." Recently, I have found that those who are listening don't really seem to care. Perhaps I'm a bad story-teller or maybe the listeners find it hard to connect with my stories. Maybe I have already told them this story? Are they annoyed that I keep starting sentences with "This time in Australia"? I have suddenly developed a guilt and a bit of anxiety to tell my stories. I feel bad for sharing them instead of being excited and happy. I'm finding that I am keeping more of my stories to myself these days so that I don't have to feel the guilt of sharing or mask my distress of their disinterest.
I have twenty-something years worth of stories. Even if no one wants to listen to my stories or briefly share in my experiences, the great thing is that I have had these experiences. My stories are special and unique. No one else has them. I won't let my stories be a burden. I will not fell guilty for sharing a story. I will enjoy the fact that at this moment, I can remember all my stories and they ways I felt through each story and experience.
The most precious thing I have are all my stories. It's maybe all I have. Without my stories, what would I really have. I am so grateful to have all my stories. The fear of loosing my stories comes from the very fact that without my stories, I am nothing.
So here's the thing. "The truth about stories is, that's all we are" Thomas King.
ReplyDeleteYou have a new task at hand it seems, finding wonder if the things that many people miss. Being from Saskatchewan, I'm sure you've heard others say how boring it is geographically. And yet, as much as I value my travels and experiences in places, I still find beauty in wonder in lots of things. I think as an educator, this may be our most important mission. We have a responsibility to awe and wonder. I don't know if it's a generational thing but teaching people to find beauty, joy and wonder in their everyday might be the greatest struggle of people today.
As educators this should be something we strive to model. The fact you write and think about this sets you apart from most. You'll soon find new stories and new wonders. Just keep looking.
Hi Kait, I think you really have something there when you say the most precious thing I have is my stories. And as I read your post, the quote by King that Dean referenced danced in my mind.
ReplyDeleteThe truth about stories is that that's all we are.
The experience of our stories is joyful & beautiful, sometimes our experiences live as moments we tell and retell never desiring to change... Other experiences, and perhaps like the one you are living and telling (blogging) us about now is messy, and perhaps filled with tension.
This, well this most certainly is 'something'. A very big and painful sort of a change story and even a grief story.
And one that only you can tell.
I am living a story of change too. My Dad & Mom, both educators, were my guides, my rocks, not only my whole life, but mostly through my education & teaching journey. I am loosing them, now, this year.
I am scared.
As King would say I dont tell you this story to play on your sympathies. In the end, our stories are no different.
I tell my story so that someday I might be able to relive & and retell my story.
Ive told this story. In other ways. So i trust the sharing.
I think so have you. You've faced fears. Jumped out a plane.
We are the experience of the experience of sharing our narrative. In time. With others and in deeply rooted to place.
Keep sharing. I'm listening.
I love hearing your stories! Always feel free to share them with me. I never find them boring...if anything it makes me want to go out and enjoy the same experiences!! As for living in a small town...agreed it's not always exciting. I laughed at the "Jungle Lawn," comment...so true.
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