Stories

When was the last time you heard a really good story? I’m talking about the kind that stays with you — vivid details and all — for a week, or maybe even a month. The kind that you recite other people with a level of enthusiasm and gesticulation that would suggest the experience was your own.

Here’s a better question, when was the last time that story was yours?

Most of us (including me), can’t think of the last time we heard or told a story like that.

I just started reading Sea Stories: My Life in Special Operations by Admiral William H. McRaven, and through conversation with a close friend who’s also reading the book, we’ve come to the early conclusion that people don’t really tell stories anymore… at least not stories worth listening to like those of Admiral McRaven.

McRaven’s stories unfold over decades of experiences as a young Navy Seal officer all the way up through the ranks to Commander and Admiral. His stories involve risk, love, compassion, uncertainty, injury, sadness, and joy.

Sure, we talk about our jobs, and the weather, and our kids, and how tired and stressed we are, and that funny video on Tik-Tok. But surely there’s more to all this, right?

Netflix series and YouTube vlogs are beginning to feel like the final iteration of modern day story-telling. Filmed, edited, and censored under the notion that if it can’t be distributed to the masses, then maybe it’s not a story worth telling. Algorithms are designed to take our attention away from real life experiences since we started embracing and even celebrating the notion of “mindless television” as a positive way to unwind from a long, hard day. We tell our own stories on social media with images and videos, but in a way that suggests no one really knows us in real life.

Have you ever considered the question — what makes you interesting?

The best story-tellers I know are in pursuit of remarkable achievements. With that comes curiosity, commitment, humility, and confidence. The path they choose — albeit less travelled — is paved with paradox; discomfort and pain alongside extraordinary experiences and relationships. The journey is uncertain, but their destinations are the same.

I’m not suggesting you sell all your shit and hit the road for a cross-country adventure so that you can tell a good story.

However, I am suggesting that a life worth telling stories of is not one spent in front of a screen.

There’s not much we won’t do for likes, followers, views, and Instagram notoriety; and I’ve been guilty of drumming up ways to “stand out” and “get people’s attention” for the sake of building my business and feeding my ego too…

Instead, might I suggest that we design a life full of experiences worth sharing stories of. And might these experiences and our attention be centred on the people in our communities, rather than the opportunity to reach millions that are millions of miles away. And might our ability to problem solve, acquire new skills, and build relationships and resiliency improve on this path to something remarkable? And might we become more influential and interesting along the way as we start to choose experience over the idea of if it and the influence that we craved in the first place?

And maybe, just maybe, we’ll find ourselves full of stories, compassion, and humility that’s worth listening to.