The Gift of Story

Hi there? How’s your February going? Are you in a Polar Vortex/cabin fevor region? If you’re anything like me, one of the things getting you through it is the Gift of Story.

This winter I’m relying on Netflix (preferably on the treadmill) and playing smart things on my phone like Podcasts and Audible. It’s actually a little shocking how much I depend on these things. They are the salt of my days, adding flavor to everything else.

My gratitude for stories that transport me away from frozen temperatures and teething toddlers is much like the gratitude I have for oxygen and our daily bread. It’s my m.o. for getting through hard things, like moving in the 5^thgrade, (and 7^th, and 10^th), grieving my dad and my brother, having twins, winter. The power of story is universal, and I love knowing I’m not alone in needed this escape. As I work on my current novel, I am again reminded of how essential it is as an adult to still spend some time in the world of make believe. The details that take us out of ourselves, pull us from our navel gazing and dryness and fill us with a spark, with hope, with resilience. My hunger for this is not unique, and I am always curious about other people who hunger for it too. Those kindred souls who are fascinated by the human spirit and amazed at the ways in which it finds expression.

The philosopher Lonergan wrote that art is essential to our human experience because it takes us out of ourselves, pulls us out of our pain, confusion, and monotony and allows us to observe another’s experience. This becomes cathartic since we can process our own thoughts and feelings by observing the events in a movie, an opera, a painting, a novel. Have you ever left a movie feeling very light? Or noticed that when the curtains closed at the end of the final act of a show you felt – free? That’s because art liberates us, frees us, and gives us insights into the big picture of our own lives.

The year the twins were born, I survived by watching Game of Thrones and the first four seasons of The Walking Dead. Before they were born I thought these series were too violent. Then I was pulled out of bed at 1, and 3, and 4:30, which felt pretty violent too. Of course, the power of story and good writing is what makes these shows so successful. If I had to be awake, at least I could find out what Cersei was scheming or how Rick Grime would out-smart and out-heart his latest nemesis.  It helped to watch shows that were intense because what I was living felt intense, even if I still had to fast forward through the gratuitous nudity and everything around Theon being tortured.

When I started sleeping through the night, I stopped watching The Walking Dead. But as soon as the twins started teething and we were all getting bad sleep again, wouldn’t you know I gravitated towards it again. I’m currently in Season 5, which should take us nicely through Michael’s molars.

When more scandals in the Catholic church were announced last year, and the hurt and heartache were so hard to bear, my family went up north and we watched the Lord of the Rings trilogy, and there was so much consolation from that story. Things that are so hard to understand – why people do evil, why even good people can disappoint us, and how the power of a tiny yes can bring great big things to bear – played out in another world. That cathartic power was at work and helped me process it.

If I am by some accounts a privileged white woman (though I don’t really buy into that way of describing people at all), and I depend on story for survival, how much more do those who live with oppression need it? Girls in Africa, boys in India, mothers in Mexico, fathers in Pakistan. I want to know their stories and see their experiences through their eyes, and my hope is that by discovering the power of story, they will be able to tell it. The reality is life is hard for all of us, some more than others, and compassion is our best tool to face the challenges of life. Stories help us develop that compassion.

One of the best things I discovered recently through Jenna’s blog at Call Her Happy is a link to the books that women in the Chicago prison system have requested. It’s on Amazon and when you look at the titles you see the hunger of human spirit for story, for healing, for peace. I was so moved to help get some of those books in their hands. I hope you will be too.

I recently finished Becoming Mrs. Lewis, a very well-written account of how the novelist and poet Joy Davidman got to know C.S. Lewis through letters, where they poured out their stories of writing and converting to Christianity. The book showed how she influenced his writing by helping him flesh out his ideas. I had read most of his books, and it was so interesting to go from the idea of the book, to their conversations about it, to what it would finally become. But what bonded them most was the power of story, and the make believe place we all have in our imaginations, whether it is a snowy forrest, or in Joy’s case, a beautiful garden. I took a lot of inspiration from her writing poetry in the hardest days of motherhood.

What are the stories that are moving you right now? I would love to hear about them. And if you are in one of the difficult parts of your own story, hang in there. It gets better. The great stories are always about redemption.