Practice

Imagine something funny happened to you yesterday. You tell a friend, they laugh, and life goes on. Moments like this happen every day, all over the world. But a funny scene, a vignette, is not yet a story.

A story is larger. It has a beginning, a middle, and an end. It carries meaning—even when that meaning isn’t obvious at first.

In everyday conversation, we often share only the summary, worried that people will lose interest. And if they stop listening, it hurts.

Mindful Storytelling offers another way. You take your time. You craft the story. Then you tell it—without interruption. It’s not a conversation: first you listen to me, then I listen to you. That’s the deal. Discussion comes later.

So how do you choose which story to tell? Simple: choose the one that interests you. If it matters to you, your voice will carry that energy, and others will be drawn in.

Some stories are light and funny. Others are heavy, perhaps even painful to tell. You may feel shame, fear, or resistance. That’s when storytelling becomes an act of courage—a way of letting go, clearing space for something new.

When I hear your story, I may laugh, cry, or be moved in some way. Your story invites my own. You don’t need to explain how you felt—I’ll feel it too, as it stirs a memory in me.

No analysis is needed. Just tell me what happened. Trust me to meet you there. That’s how I become part of your story’s unfolding.

Mindful Storytelling is not public speaking. You don’t need to perform or impress. All you need is the willingness to share, and the best way to do it is to relive the story in your mind’s eye as you speak. In other words: be the story.