“That’s the end of the story?”
Clearly, I hadn’t thought carefully about where I was going with it—in fact, I wasn’t following any sort of plan.
My 6 year-old son rolled on his shoulder peered up at me from his bed. His cheeks were flushed, a sign that he was moments away from sleep. He was now wide awake, and practically yelled, “That’s the end of the story?” This is his signal of disapproval or confusion, but thankfully he and my other kids are gracious in their tolerance of nonsensical and poorly planned plots. But I know if I’ve made up a particularly good bedtime story, there will be a long pause and he’ll finally ask me to tell him another story. If he’s still awake.
The truth is, it’s not just my kids at bedtime. We all love narrative. I find myself particularly attracted to narratives that see its characters move through epic stories of formation, loss, rescue, and restoration. Although it’s not always in that order and sometimes there is some jumping around, I’ve been thinking about these as key themes that resonate deeply with people and their own experience.
Paul J. Zak makes a compelling case for the power of story in influencing “our attitudes, beliefs, and behaviors.” His article in the Harvard Business Review describes how stories of human struggle and triumph elicit empathy along with measurable increases in oxytocin levels. This state, he argues, increases motivation and cooperation. When we are hearing a captivating human narrative, our attention is coupled with a ready-to-learn state and the brain is ready to absorb more information.
So what?
Recently, my wilderness program included a new element on a multi-day backpacking trip. We tried eliciting “life story” from our teenaged participants. Every student had a chance to respond to a guiding question like, “tell us a story about your life.” I was curious how it would go (or realistically, I was curious if would be a total flop) but I decided to wait until we were a couple days into the journey. I was hopeful that everyone would participate, and in the end everybody really enjoyed it. Interestingly, it was the listening the people mentioned, not just the chance to be heard and understood. The group seemed more comfortable with itself after the last student shared, and we were ready to go deeper with other elements of our program.
With some of my recent ambivalence in my position as wilderness guide and group facilitator, it was helpful to read Lak today and realize that I’m already making space for narrative. I recognize that I too, feel more engaged with people after hearing narrative about them. Even hearing speeches made by others in their honour can elicit a sense of knowing and empathy.
Now if I would only plan my made-up fantastical stories a little better, I may get some more sleep.










