Rachelle Mee-Chapman is a writer and alt.minister from Seattle, WA, now living the ex-pat life in Copenhagen, Denmark. She is the mother of two school-aged girls, and one teenager adopted-by-affection. Rachelle’s current life motto is: “embrace whimsy.” You can find her at Magpie Girl, friend her at Facebook, or follow her on Twitter.
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photo by shelby mcquilkin. all rights reserved.
The Care and Keeping of Stories
“I can’t quite get it into words what stories mean to me. I guess they make me believe.”
-Silvia DeVires, True Colors
Most mornings this winter, before the sun is up, you will find me walking the dark and quiet lakes of Copenhagen with a story in my ear. This American Life with Ira Glass. Malcolm Gladwell’s eccentric collections in Outliers. Podcasts from the Portfolio Project by Jen Lee. The long unwinding tale of An American Wife. Stories fill my ears and feed my spirit so that later, when I am back in my studio, more stories will pour out from my finger tips.
Since I have started telling my stories in written and spoken word, people—mostly women—have been finding me anyway they can. I get messages from the About page on my blog, notes left on my wall on Facebook, mini stories in 140 characters or less on Twitter, even notes in my Flickr mail. I didn’t even know you could get Flickr mail! These women are contacting me through the ether of the internet to tell me their stories and to point out where our stories connect. Stories of regret and starting over. Stories of memory and its mysterious ways. Stories of pain, loss, and confusion. And best of all, stories of recovery and hope.
Dear ones, we must to do something about taking care of all these precious stories. Because with all my heart, this I believe: it is within our power to allow our stories to shape us for the good, to bring us healing, and to draw us towards shalom.
I am still relatively new to this world of stories and am I’m learning to harness their redemptive power. Still, I am sure that together we can hold these stories tenderly and let their power sing from the rooftops.
So here friends, is what I know right now about telling stories:
• Embody your stories. When you document a story, you make it less ethereal, and affirm that it is Real. The most obvious way to embody a story is to write in a journal. But you can help them show up other ways as well. You might capture them in a collage made of images torn from magazines and picture books. You could jot them in the lines of a poem. You could document them in smears of color on canvas. Or you could even just distill them into long lists of words. Whatever you do, just sit down with a pen, or a keyboard, or a paintbrush and say “I don’t know, I don’t know…” until the knowing comes and the story flows. The first step is acknowledging that they are Real, that you are Real.
• Name your stories. Give your stories titles and subtitles. This will make them feel Clever and Important, and they will stay with you longer and tell you more True Things. Naming is powerful. When we name something we can better hold it in our hands. When you hold a story cupped in your palm you can decide to continue holding it like a treasure –or you can let it slide past your finger tips and release it. When you release it may guide others; or companion other story holders who have otherwise felt alone; or simply slide away past your finger tips, because you no longer need to carry it.
• Speak your stories aloud. Let your voice sound out into an empty room. Tell a friend over tea. Record yourself on you cell phone’s voice mail. Get one of those little hand-held digital recorders and become your own biographer. Giving voice, literally giving voice to your stories can be in turns affirming, empowering, releasing, and healing.
• Give your stories time to grow up. When writers craft a story the tale emerges over time. Stories rarely emerge full formed with all their parts in order. Usually they are a mystery. Stories flit back and forth through time. They don’t always match the present. They play in the field of memory. In spite of this—perhaps because of this–you can use your intuition to tell them as they unfold. Trust your intuitive voice to tell the part of the story you need to tell, when you need to tell it.
Will you do this work with me? Will you be brave –a little or a lot—and let your stories sing? Start writing. Start blogging. Start painting. Start giving birth to the poet on your tongue. Start making lists of words you do not understand, drawing lines–literally, on the page with a marker, drawing lines–between things you did not know were connected. I know that at times, it is hard to remember—but your story is important. May you sing it from the rooftops.
“I hope you will go out and let stories happen to you and that you will work them, and water them, with your blood and tears and laughter ‘till they bloom, ‘till you yourself burst into bloom.”
-Clarissa Pinkola Estes
April 3, 2009 at 6:11 pm
rachelle – thanks for being such a great encourager of stories…yours and the stories of others…we need to keep owning them, telling them, letting them unfold. i really like the reminder to name them, too. there’s something really powerful about titling them, framing them that way. thanks for sharing!
January 12, 2010 at 2:44 pm
[...] Read all about Rachelle here, and read an article she wrote for Voca Femina here. [...]