Tell Me Something Good

"Pick me, pick me!" by Diana Dinshaw

How often have you heard someone say, “I didn’t pick the book, the book picked me.”?  If you are a storyteller you have probably had the same experience where the story that wanted to be told kept whispering in your ear, “Pick me, pick me.”

I started the 2023 Spring Semester in which I was taking the course, Sacred Stories with a goal and a preconceived idea. 

Goal: Retell stories from my repertoire

Preconceived Idea: What Sacred Stories are. Hence, I had already picked the stories from my repertoire that I was going to tell during the semester; Legend of St. Christopher, Folktale of the Woodcutter and (Archangel) Behram Yazad, and the Myth of Baldr the Beautiful. 

You may notice that personal stories did not make the cut. 

I decided to tell the story of the Woodcutter and (Archangel) Behram Yazad as my first story. But a personal story started whispering to me, “Tell me, tell me.” I kept pushing it aside because it didn’t fit my preconceived idea of what a sacred story is; sacred stories are religious stories and stories of belief.  The sound not only started getting louder and louder but while I would be practicing the story of the Woodcutter I would all of a sudden start thinking about parts of the personal story I had told almost a year ago for Mother’s Day. It was time to surrender.

So, I dug out the storyboard for my story, “I Am My Mothers” and saw it with fresh eyes. It was no more just a story about three women who had cared for and nurtured me. The story allowed me to deeply reconnect with the love of each of these women; my aya (nanny) Taro, my Katy mummy, and my mother, Arnavaz. After all, what is more sacred than love?

Building My Personal Repertoire: Finding Sacred Stories by Bryce Barraza

Are you thinking about adding a ‘sacred’ story to your repertoire? If so, then you and I are in the same boat . . . and I certainly appreciate your good company!

Recently, as part of a storytelling course, I have been learning and practicing how to better interpret stories and their sacred elements with the intent to add more stories to my personal repertoire.

As a novice, I think I am achieving some success in finding ‘sacred’ stories that I want to better learn, craft, and add to my repertoire. With that said, I wanted to offer some information that I found helpful in my learnings and practice for your consideration. 

Hope this helps!

What’s Your Definition of Sacred?

‘Sacred’ is referring to a specific type of story. Sacred stories are those that involve the subjects of life, death, the continuity of generations, and how we relate to others and the world.

Additional characteristics of sacred stories to consider include:

• Explain the world: sacred stories teach about how the world, animals and humans were created, and why humans do what we do. (E.g., Creation myths and pourquoi stories) These teachings more likely were at one point in time believed to be universal truth –or may be considered fact today.
• Codify beliefs, cultural norms, and behaviors: sacred stories may be used as integral parts of cultural and religious rituals, teach lessons of morality and other rules, and can encourage adherence to certain practices and behaviors.
• Transcend cultures and time: the morals of sacred stories apply no matter when in time the story takes place, and the moral is applicable across many cultures.

Sacred can also mean different things for individual storytellers. That is not to say ‘sacred’ is completely subjective –however, it recognizes that you personally may be drawn to certain sacred stories more so than others. And it’s helpful to reflect on why you gravitate to a particular story as you develop your own interpretation of sacred.

In my attempt to develop my definition of ‘sacred,’ I took to reading multiple myths and other traditional stories, and subsequently made a list of the stories that I liked. Once I had a list of ‘likes,’ I identified common themes, morals, and story types that –for whatever reasons –I naturally gravitate.

Picking A Story: Do You Like the Story? Like, Really, Really Like It?

When working to identify sacred stories to add to my personal repertoire, I ask myself the below questions in sequential order about each story under consideration.

• Do I like the story? Like really, really like it?

The first step of my review process when determining to add a story to my repertoire is to ask the question, “Do I like the story? Like really, really like it?” In other words, I want to be “delighted” and have a strong “desire” to tell the story in efforts to ensure a stronger delivery. When a storyteller is “delighted” by their selection of the story, the storyteller will have a stronger “desire” to share and communicate the story with the audience. An increased “delight” of the selected story, and an enhanced “desire” to share the story, produces a stronger “delivery” of the story.  (Warren, L. 2008)

• Does this story communicate one of my core values I consider as sacred?

Storyteller Laura Packer explains that the authenticity of a storyteller includes sharing stories that represent their core values. So, knowing your definition of ‘sacred’ will help you identify stories that can help communicate your interpretation of values you consider sacred.

• Do I have a personal experience to help anchor the story?

For me, I like to have a personal experience that I can relate to the moral of the story. Now, this is not to say I have personal experiences that directly tie to the plot of the myths of ancient Gods and Goddesses such has being struck by the golden or lead arrow of Cupid or Eros, but I can directly relate to the human experience of infatuation, love, and indifference.   

Research The Story

Once I find a story that I like –like really, really like –I spend time doing a little research.

A few notes on what I attempt to accomplish when conducting research:

• Learn the Story’s Origin and Current Use: What is known about where the story came from? Are there similar stories in other cultures? Is the story still used in cultural or religious rituals today? Is it appropriate for me to craft and tell this story, given the cultural origins and current use?
• Note the Similarities and Differences: Read different versions of the same story. Reviewing multiple versions of the same story may help identify critical characters to include and similar plot elements to structure a newly crafted version. Alternatively, identifying differences in plot or imagery used can support ‘creative license’ when crafting a new version, and differences may also serve as other points of research to better understand why versions vary.
• Leverage the Imagery: The reoccurring images are probably in there for a reason. So, take note and google it. I try to notice nature and earth elements referenced (e.g., specific plants or trees; herbs and spices; or reference to water, wind, fire.) I also try to trace the geographic locations referenced in older stories to modern-day locations –which may assist with physical descriptions of setting and provide a sense of cultural history associated with the location. You may also want to try to learn if there is significance to specific numbers or colors referenced.
• Read, Listen and Watch: I gain value in reading multiple versions of the same story. But auditory and visual examples can also be helpful. Therefore, I also search whether other storytellers have publicly published recorded audio or video of their telling of the story (e.g., I’m Telling Podcast or YouTube). Listening and watching other storytellers tell the same story (or different stories) helps me better hone my techniques –and serves as inspiration as I continue to practice my storytelling.

Reference:

Bascom, W. (1954). Four Functions of Folklore. The Journal of American Folklore, Vol. 67 (266), Pg.339-349.

Packer, L. (2019). From Audience to Zeal: The ABCs of Finding; Crafting and Telling a Great Story, Pg. 9,Appropriation; Pg. 13, Authenticity; Pg. 120, Research; Pg. 139, Sourcing.

Warren, L. (2008). The Oral Tradition Today: An Introduction to the Art of Storytelling, Ch. 2.

Finding Who You Are by Lauren Besich

I recently read a book called Island Wisdom that explored the question, “what does it mean to be Hawaiian?”  To answer this question the authors used the themes of Aloha (deep, innate love), ‘Ᾱina (the land), Mo’olelo (the art of storytelling), and ‘Ohana (the family) to paint a picture of the Hawaiian culture.  Storytelling serves many purposes in Hawaiian culture.  As a culture rooted in oral tradition, storytelling was how they passed down their knowledge, connected with family members, and preserved their history through the dancing of hula (which I learned is a sacred storytelling art in Hawaii). There is a saying that goes, “Know who you were so you can know who you are.”  We need to know the generations of people that populate our family tree, because their stories are our creation myths. 

Since I love the theme of “finding who you are,” let us explore how knowing the stories of our ancestors helps us find meaning in our lives.  Moana is a story about a young woman who lives on an island that she is prohibited from leaving.  As the chief’s daughter, and next in line to govern the island, her dad makes it very clear that no one sails beyond the reef because it is too dangerous.  However, their island is dying, and the solution lies in far away places.  Her sweet grandmother prompts Moana to accept her call to save the island and journey beyond the reef to do so.  She leads Moana to the revelation that her ancestors were voyagers, and with this knowledge of who she was, Moana is able to complete the difficult task of saving the island, and presumably the rest of the world.  Knowledge of her ancestor’s stories helped her know who she was to become—a voyager once again. 

Another favorite story of mine is the tale of Elsa in the movie Frozen.  She was born with powers that seemed to her shameful, after inadvertently harming her sister with them.  She spent her youth trying to hide them from her community and her sister.  After accidentally exposing her powers on her coronation day as Queen of Arendelle, she ran away.  The mystery of her powers continued to haunt her until she learned that her mother was from the Northuldra tribe in the Enchanted Forest.  Once she learned stories from her mother’s childhood, Elsa finally understood her powers, saved her people, and realized her purpose.  Again, knowing the stories of her ancestors brought meaning to her life. 

As for me, I recently lost my grandmother.  I know some basics about her life, but I feel like I’m missing the pieces that give me a clear picture of who I have been.  How did my grandma handle raising four kids after her divorce? Why did she never remarry? What led her to become a travel agent? What did she love about growing up in Tennessee? What was her favorite flower? What kind of friend was she? Did she have a midlife crisis?  I have so many questions, but now I have to get the answers from secondary sources.  Thankfully I’ve not been tasked with saving the world by discovering my family secrets, but I do hope to leave more stories for my children, grandchildren, and even great grandchildren to know who they were, so they can know who they are.  

Image Credit: "She Will Find What is Lost" by Brian Kershisnik

 

Sacred Flowers by Kathy Eastman

This winter all our lovely rains have resulted in a profusion of wildflowers.  The attached picture is from my front yard.  The flowers with their rare beauty are bringing me so much pleasure!  While spending time enjoying all the flowers and pulling weeds, I was listening and watching all the pollinators.  It was only natural for me to think about the sacred nature of flowers.   Life as we know it on planet earth is based on the ability of plants to convert sunshine into chlorophyll.  Our civilization and agricultural practices depend on flowers and their codependent pollinators.  The first reason flowering plants are sacred is because they provide our primary sources of food, fiber and medicine. Most of the plant material we consume is from flowering plants including fruits, veggies and grains.  Here in the southwest cotton is a famous fiber plant.  And, the medicinal properties (and corresponding devastation) are well known for the opium poppy. 

The second reason I find flowering plants sacred is the co-evolution of flowers and pollinators.  Of course, there have not always been flowering plants, it is thought they first evolved about 130 million years ago.  Even in our current times, there are still many examples of non-flowering plants.  Think of the spore producers, such as ferns.  Flowering plants make an extraordinary investment in time and energy producing flowers.  The flowers are for sexual reproduction and seed formation.  Really, plants have the most exotic sexual habits and often require participation of pollinators.   This year’s profuse blooms are attracting pollinators of all sorts, and the desert is singing with their activities. Thank goodness!  Life as we know it would not exist without flowers! 

Beyond their direct utilitarian uses, flowering plants are the basis for our spiritual, artistic and literary endeavors. The third reason flowers are scared is the powerful metaphors they represent in our lives. Whether you are consciously thinking about it or not, flowers are present at most of our major life transitions.  The rose alone is used to represent romance, love, beauty, courage, friendship, desire, appreciation, sincerity, appreciation and innocence.  In Buddhism the eastern lotus flower speaks of purity and spiritual growth.  Since it is Easter season, think of the white lily with its association with the Virgin.  For the non-secular, think of sunflowers “with their uncanny ability to lock you into its stare”.  Shakespeare used a myriad of flowers as metaphors.   Culturally, the Dutch are famous for tulips. 

In some creation myths flowers are not metaphors, but the very source of creation.  For example, in ancient Egypt the day blooming blue lotus appeared at the beginning of creation.  Brahma the Hindu god of creation emerges from an eastern lotus flower.  Flowers are a powerful source of life and have the power of transformation.  You only need to step outside to see the amazing colors and profusion of flowers.  The flowers are all dressed up and not going anywhere, because they are the party.  Find a moment and enjoy the gifts of sacred flowers. 

Author note:  I referenced material from internet sources and the book:  Seven Flowers and How They Shaped the World by Jennifer Potter.  

Acknowledging the Land by Doug Bland

“In order to restore the land, we must re-story it.”

---Gary Paul Nabhan

Land acknowledgements have become common practice as a way to honor past, present, and future contributions of Indigenous people.  Here in Maricopa County, we occupy the unceded lands of the Akimel O'odham and Pee-Posh people.

Collectively, the Akimel O’odham and Pee Posh call themselves the People of the River, both the Gila River, which flows into the Colorado River, and the Salt River which flows into the Gila.

The Akimel O’odham have been here in this place thousands of years.  They are the northernmost group of the O’odham family, which includes the Hia C-ed O’odham – the People of the Sand – and the Tohono O’odham – the People of the Desert. Together, the O’odham are the people of the Sonoran Desert, which encompasses part of northern Sonora, Mexico and most of southern and Central Arizona.

The word Arizona comes from an O’odham word meaning “many springs”.  

The Pee-Posh moved here from their traditional home further south on the Colorado River sometime in the 1500s as an alternative to enduring ongoing attacks from the Mojave and Quechan peoples.  In the 1800s a formal alliance was made and the Akimel O’odham invited the Pee-Posh to be of this place, too.

Today, these peoples co-exist on the Gila River Indian Community, a sovereign nation of around 20,000 residing on around 375,000 acres, and the Salt River Pima-Maricopa Indian Community, a federally recognized tribal community of around 10,000 residing on a little over 50,000 acres.  There are more than twenty federally recognized Indian Communities in Arizona, and more than a quarter of Arizona land is tribal land.

Spanish colonizers who came into this place in the 16^th century are the ones who called the Akimel O’odham the “Pima” and the Pee Posh the “Maricopa”.  I live in Maricopa County. My in-laws live in Pima County.  

As People of the River, the Akimel O’odham and Pee-Posh relied on river water to irrigate their farm crops.  But as early as 1868, their farmers started reporting unexpected water shortages. The cause of these shortages was that settlers from the United States were moving into the upper parts of the Gila River and diverting Akimel O’odham and Pee-Posh water without consideration of the native communities downstream.  

At about the same time, in the 1870s, other mostly Anglo-European settlers were also starting to farm in the Salt River Valley where Tempe and Phoenix are now.  There were no active Akimel O’odham and Pee-Posh communities in the Salt River Valley at that particular time; when the settlers found the eroded walls of multi-story homes, plazas, granaries, and outdoor ballcourts from what had been a thriving community, they were quick to call them ruins and attribute them to an ancient, long-gone people.  When the settlers also found nearly 600 miles of irrigation canals created by the ancestors of the O’odham, they immediately started putting those canals to use for their own farming, without making a connection to or an acknowledgement of the existing native communities.  

There was a time when the O’odham Tribes completely disappeared - hence the word “Huhugam”, which is the label for this period when the O’odham suddenly packed up and left.  

By the beginning of the 20^th century water shortages and crop failures were so common that the People of the River begin to go hungry and many starved.  As one way to feed their families, they cut 100,000 acres of mature mesquite trees on the reservation to sell as firewood to get money to buy food.  In 1925, an irrigation project that was supposed to restore water to the Akimel O’odham and the Pee Posh ended up effectively drying up the Gila River.  After that, the People of the River went to court, and in 2004 – after nearly 80 years in court and nearly 150 years of active resistance and self-advocacy – the Gila River Indian Community won a decisive Water Rights Settlement – one of the largest in U.S. history – access to over 650,000 acre feet of water annually.

(The image at the top of the post is the great seal of the Gila River Indian Community.) 

Woman at the Well of Story by Susan Valiquette

It’s my 53^rd birthday and we are all going to the Moth storytelling event at the Crescent Ballroom in Phoenix. It is a monthly treat for me to listen to the stories of individuals who vulnerably tell their own stories. This month I don’t have to go solo. I was not prepared to put my name in the ‘hat’ and tell a story that evening, even though my friends were encouraging me to do so. I did, however, take on the challenge of writing a story and sharing it with my friends over dinner. I followed the ‘rules’ of Moth. I told a story that was mine and kept to the theme and designated time. The theme was ‘leftovers’. My story was from childhood memories. It was not riveting or even very memorable to my friends, but it would have sparked a lot of memories for my family. It was more a story of nostalgia. My brother took to the story wholeheartedly and responded with enthusiasm in his email reply. This was completely unexpected given that we don’t speak very regularly.

Following my nostalgic story of ‘leftover change,’ he insisted that I ‘do my homework for life’. I had no idea what he was talking about. The next email said, “You gotta read ‘Storyworthy.’” I am still lost which I explain to him. He promises to buy me a copy of the book and have it delivered. It is not reminiscent of my brother. The book arrives and I start reading immediately as I can’t wait to learn what ‘doing my homework’ means.  The author, Matthew Dicks, has won the Moth storytelling like some 35 times. He holds storytelling workshops, and now I am reading his book and learning how to tell a story.

My colleague, Doug, has been modeling and telling me this for some time. “Stop preaching Susan and tell a story.” This is the kind of confidence that I wish I had. After a few classes with Liz Warren and listening to incredible seasoned storytellers, I am led to the conviction that we remember stories, not sermons. How can I be a storyteller too? How can storytelling become more integrated into my preaching? After one opportunity to tell a story in Liz Warren’s class, my confidence grows.

The Sunday’s scripture is the woman at the well. It is my favorite story. I could tell you the story without reading it. I could give you commentary for as long as you could listen. This story is the reason I still believe. So, I imagine everything I can about this woman from the biblical story that has been written and create a story of transformation to replace the sermon. I step forward to the center of the sanctuary, no notes, no script and I begin the story, “Neska had finished all the water the previous day . . .”

The Hero In All by Elizabeth Wunsch

As I am emerged in the stories from my classmates, I feel honored as I recognize the hero’s journeys of each of their lives. And through each of their stories i am introduced to their challenges, strengths and adventures. All so different yet intrinsically tied to one another. Many generations represented, each wrapped in a filter that allows a sameness to appear differently.

We are all in each others stories, finding a spot in each others journey. An illumination into our psyches and truths. An understanding of the stories we want to tell but are unable to, or the sudden volume turned up on rumblings within that have a need to emerge, be crafted and spoken. Joy, laughter, strength, heartache, tears, forgiveness.

Journeys in story that provide a sense of oneness to each other and the generations that came before us.

It is an honor to be part of this.