Even after 15 years and over one thousand lectures, I can't say that I've completely overcome the fear of public speaking. On some occasions, I still get some butterflies when I first get up in front of the audience.
Everyone has a story. I think we all forget that sometimes. As we run our errands, fill up our gas tanks, wait in traffic, we dismiss nameless faces who carry stories just like ours. There are common threads among all of us.
The 'Humans of' movement feels to me like a vehicle for illustrating what all of us know deep down: that we're all humans of somewhere, we all have a story and we all have something of value to say, if we're given the chance to say it.
Our relationship stories are our lifelines with others. By sharing our stories with someone important to us, we can see the events of our life from different, surprising perspectives. Creating our mutual stories could change our view of each other in unexpected and rewarding ways.
As someone who loves to hear people's stories and share my own stories with the world, I have found some of the stories I have continually told myself have not allowed me to listen wholeheartedly to others' stories.
While myths, as vehicles for conveying wisdom, have been around since the beginning of human history, the therapeutic use of metaphor -- the subtly structured "story with a message" -- is a more recent development.
We are one week into this adventure, and it is time for updates! I am still running across the country to raise money and awareness for lung cancer. I am taking on this challenge in honor of a dear childhood friend, Jill Costello, who lost her battle with lung cancer at just 22.
In matters of the heart, finance, armed conflict and whoever's currently in the seats of power, I vacillate, suffer, howl and sink. On the yoga mat, however, I take what comes, even when nothing comes, even when what comes is pretty laughable... or damned unbearable.
My mother loved her chocolates. A box of Russell Stover was her favorite, though she'd never turn down a Whitman's Sampler. Anything better was just too good to be eaten and only meant to be admired and sniffed, like the cap from her Chanel No. 5.
There was never a moment when I said to myself, "Self, it's been two months since you haven't been your cheery self, and if the Zoloft ad on TV is any indication of what depression feels like, you are certainly a sad egg who can't -- or doesn't want to -- catch that damn butterfly."