MONIQUE SLIEDRECHT: Sharing our stories can lead to new understanding
Northern Drift by Monique Sliedrecht
When my parents were visiting the far north recently we shared some more personal stories about past events in our lives, as well as those relating to others we know.
It’s the sharing of these personal stories that has been quite touching: how my parents met, what led them to Canada, instances in my own life that led me to be where I am now, past relationships, the artistic journey which is ongoing...
While I’ve heard and shared some of these stories before, new details arise in the re-telling, and a new understanding. I realise that my parents and I are still continually getting to know each other.
Following my parents’ visit, my childhood friend Erika came to visit me with her husband a couple of weeks ago. It was the first time they had been to Scotland. It had also been 23 years since I saw them last!
While always in each other’s minds, our lives have been busy and full in their different ways, she in Seattle, WA mainly, me in the UK. Erika and I were best friends for many years, spending time together almost every day from the age of five to 12.
We shared a world of imagination, tree-houses, make believe, story-telling and excitement and, without me realising it, we shaped each others’ lives profoundly.
When we met in person again it was as though no time had passed. And yet, there was much to catch up on, which we happily did. On reflecting back over our childhood, she shared stories that stood out to her, and I recalled other experiences – memories that could fill a whole book (and perhaps one day they will).
Those precious days have brought us closer together again, rekindling something that lay dormant for a while, but was still living and breathing.
My point is this: I’ve come to see that being able to tell each other our stories is important. And the more we can do that in person the better.
I have started to think about why that is. Perhaps it is purely a point of connection, a way into another person’s life, which develops a growing closeness and understanding. That in itself makes sharing our stories worth our while.
However, I believe it is something more. Telling one’s story does something for the storyteller as well. It opens up new avenues in the telling, new realisations – about oneself, about the unique path each of us is on. It can bring a new angle on experience and what can be learned along the way. Sharing our stories out loud can reveal new insights which in turn may bring clarity and help carve the way forward.
This is vulnerable, and so we find it difficult to do. But I might suggest erring on the side of that vulnerability if it means we have our eyes opened a little more. All it takes is a little practice and a listening ear. And that’s where listening plays its part in such a profound way.
Have you noticed that with someone who listens, you experience greater trust with that person? That certainly helps in sharing stories. And a good listener asks good questions, and helps you feel safe in the telling – it helps you feel held in a way.
Occasionally something else happens, though… As Brené Brown says: “...rather than being good stewards of a story, we hijack the story and centre ourselves. That centring takes many different shapes, including shifting the focus to us, questioning or not believing what someone is sharing because it’s different than our lived experience, or diminishing the importance of an experience because it makes us feel uncomfortable.
“We are good stewards of the stories we hear by listening, being curious, affirming, and believing people when they tell us how they experienced something.” (The Practice of Story Stewardship, by Brené Brown)
And once in a while, isn’t it interesting to reflect on where we’ve been, how we got here and who we have become?
• Monique Sliedrecht is an artist and blogger based at Freswick. Visit her blog at www.moniquesliedrecht.com
