Story Telling.

I'm watching the sun rise. It's colder than I would like to be.

But I still went out and sat outside to watch the sun rise, cigarette in hand.

What is it about cigarettes that makes me want to talk to someone about things that matter- things that just run through my mind that I want to discuss?

I sometimes get so trapped in my thoughts, I need to find some way out. Discussing helps, but it seems that things I talk about doesn't interest majority of the world. Probably because they're usually what I make of myself- self analyzing 24/7.

Everyone loves talking about themselves. Everyone wants to tell their story. Sadly, most of us won't get that chance as much as we'd like.

Personally, I like hearing other people's story, how they got here- in the telling, they skip parts of their life-intentional or not- and that makes the story more of their own. Unique. What they choose to remember, tell, and not touch alone already starts to define them for the times to come. Have you noticed?

For some people, it's the one time they get to choose. No one will force you to tell a story they have no clue exists. The story teller will choose what they say in that particular version of the story, and when they're ready, they'll add that untold story; a renewed story. They may choose never to share that story, because words escape. Telling a story can feel like having that memory erode-it gets 'renewed', because when the story is told, it adds a new scene to that story- who it was addressed to, their reaction, teller's experience in telling the story, the way story sounds out loud. It's sometimes overwhelming.

I found out someone very significant to me had passed away this spring. I only found out a month later over IM, as I am no longer at the same location as those who knew of the person. I only started to really feel anything once I said it out loud- it affected me so differently when I said it out loud, like proof that it actually happened.

I still cry on some nights, when I memories come up. Plans that were meant to be, but not in time. None of my close friends know- but that's another story.

Next time you have the chance, I encourage you to ask someone to tell you a story of their life-the way they want it to be heard.

xx

AJ