The more people that I meet in my life, the more I realize that everyone has a story. What I find myself wondering is how many of these stories remain unshared? Forgotten? And ultimately lost through time? Among the many many things I loved doing at my Grandparent’s house, the one thing I loved the most was going through the drawer with old photographs, asking who each of them was, stories about them, where they lived and how they grew up. In some ways I think I was destined to be a writer because people’s stories have always fascinated me. The story I loved the most though, the one I made my Grandpa and Grandma tell me over and over and over again, was the story of how they met. My grandparents weren’t writers… neither kept a diary or a journal. And they certainly never blogged. For their story to live on, it was dependent on the people around them, who cared enough to slow down, take a seat, and listen to what they had to say. I know I’m not the only one in my family who knows their story, and I hope I’m not the only one in my family who has passed it down to their children. We live in a society today that is rushed. People looking for the instant gratification that the internet, email and social media provides. I will be the first to admit I fit in this category. But because our society has evolved, our storytelling has evolved too. What may have, at one time, been stories around a campfire in the middle of the night has become the blogosphere, with a campfire expanding to all corners of the world. (Well, those that have the internet that is). There are literally thousands and thousands of blogs out there… how many are taking the time to read them? And not just the business or self help ones… the ones that are really telling stories. The stories I find the most fascinating… the ones I want to share… are the personal ones. Amazing stories of people overcoming the odds: Cancer patients who fought a hard fight and won, who had family and friends rally around them, and showed everyone the true definition of strength and perseverance. And, those who haven’t won… because they need the people around them to make their story live on. The Elderly, whose memories may be starting to fade. Having someone there who cares enough to ask about their stories, and write them down, may help them hold on to them a little longer. It’s one thing to read about history from a book… quite another to have someone tell you about it. I have never got more of a feeling of “being there” then when I was listening to my Grandma telling me a story, because she added her thoughts and feelings to the facts. It validated the reality, in some way. People with disabilities who don’t see themselves as having a disability and go on to do incredible things. I’ve met so many people who are classified as having a disability and are doing things I couldn’t do. When I’m brought in to do a seminar or consult, they think I’m helping them. What they don’t realize is they help me far more. I feel fortunate and blessed to work in the places I do, now and in the past, and have the people around me I have. I’m inspired every day to be a better person, not to sweat the small stuff, and to slow down enough to listen to what the people around me have to say and the stories they have to tell. And I care enough to pass them on, when I have permission of course! To all the bloggers out there, kudos to you. Keep doing what you’re doing and know what you are doing is valuable. You are the storytellers of this new generation and without you so many stories would be lost. To those who have stories to share, share them. Write them down, talk about them to people, send them in to a storyteller so that your story, and a piece of you really, lives on. Keep your name out if you wish, but never doubt your story has value, and merit, and by sharing it you could help someone else you have never met come to terms with something in their life. No one’s life story is boring. To those who have entered into my life and trusted me enough to share, and retell, their stories… thank you. You have all made me a better person and I’ve learned something from each story that has been shared and from each life that has touched mine, whether the ending was happy or sad. Ultimately it doesn’t matter how the story ends; what matters is that the story is told.  

Source Url: http://gobelmont.ca/everyone-has-a-story/