Story Paths

Watch the video here.

Comment on the substack post here:

https://storypaths.substack.com/p/2ef7e4c2-4f0e-42c9-a6b2-b9840c11a364

In less than a week, we’re launching a newsletter about stories. It’s about seeing beneath the skin of life to find the stories within. It’s very interactive: full of story prompts, and there's a free and a paid version.

As part of the launch, we're giving away 25 annual memberships. It's hosted on Substack, so if you're interested, go there and comment on any post, saying why you want the membership.

But write your post like it's about somebody else, as a story.

For example: “Imi the frog wants to learn about the stories of other creatures,” or “Jiminy the Magpie Healer wants to tell the story of how he got into this work, so you should give him a membership.”

It’s not a test: all the stories will be accepted. Hope to be reading your story soon.

For a free membership, comment on this very post with your story (or a madeup person’s story)!

This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit storypaths.substack.com/subscribe

(To hear this newsletter with nifty music and sound effects, have a listen to the audio. You can listen here, or look up Story Paths in any podcasting place)

Welcome to the Story Paths Newsletter and Podcast. We Are One Week Out…

Wait, gotta turn off those capital letter before each word.

Not Everything is a Title!

Ahem.

Next week I’ll be launching the first gale in a storm of story-learning goodnesses, the first course in a feast of nourishing and tasty offerings for thee and thine.

Today, for the pleasure of your narrative organ (right beside your third kidney), I offer you a wee sample of the dishes to come.

1. Story Elements

Part One: Journeys

Matriarch of the Desert

Imagine a vast desert. It's not dry all year. No, there are shrubs and tough, scrappy trees. Sometimes it floods, and latent seeds burst through clay soil to spread their seeds upon the wind.

It's not always dry, but it sure is now. And you, as an elephant, need a lot of water. You can conserve and survive for quite a while, sure. But as the sun crosses the cloudless sky, your thick skin is drying out. You lift your trunk to toss dust on your back, deflecting a little of the harsh light. You lead the others, one plodding step at a time.

There is a watering hole. Far, far away. You've been there before, for you are the matriarch, the memory keeper. You lead the others across the cracked ground, trusting your memory, bound in with the land lines and dried river lines. The stony landmarks and the scent of particular trees. Death follows you and your herd, a shadow moving just behind you.

As the shadows of the hills lengthen with the setting of the sun, you move toward water, toward life, and perhaps you will make it before this shadow overtakes you, leaving only bones and tusks to greet the coming rains. You walk. You lead them. You remember.

Well hey there, fellow human. How are you like this elephant? What do you remember, even if you’ve never lived it, that you’re leading others toward?

2. Storyteller's Diary: Tales for the Trees Upon My Trail.

When learning to see stories, it's helpful to take notes. Here in this diary, I scribe the tale of my life.

May it serve to kindle your tales and tellings.

There is where I set out on the ice, when the conditions of the lake's surface were perfect to skate. And there's where I helped my beloved skate for the first time. Her start was wobbly, but she made it all the way across the lake and back.

Then I skated in circles, and even though it was the middle of a cold winter, I had to take my shirt off. I had to sing, whoop and howl.

There now is a pickup truck by the lake, with cattle ranchers getting out, checking on their herd. In this valley of cow-worshipping vegetarians, this truck feels like a fiery skull on wheels, a chariot sent by Hades. The men hold smoldering scimitars, waiting for the right moment to murder the herd. In the long winter, these grazers kept me company in this sparse, arid, wide, broad, stony lands.

Tell me of a land that is dear to you, a land with whom you share memories. Is there a place that, when you go there, even if it has been years since you’ve come, old times become present with you now?

I’d like to hear about it.

3. Everyday Epics

Beneath sea storms, and underneath the deepest divers, ocean bedrock hums.

Are there stories like this, that seep structure up to the storm of the everyday?

Let us peer into the depths together.

Here's a tale.

There was once a monster who devoured entire rivers, and bit deeply into mountains.

A man who loved these lands strove valiantly for many days, and finally managed to complete a powerful fence to surround and protect this beautiful land.

This fence kept the monster out, but it also kept out those who had so lovingly roamed the land. The land sorely missed their touches, songs, and sprinkles of nourishing dust.

Can you guess what this story refers to in real life?

Storyteller’s diary, Story Elements, and Everyday Epics. These are three kinds of foods I’ll be sharing with you, progressively, with a different taste each time.

Here, one week out from the , I would like to offer an invocation.

This is to the universe and the spark of life within us, to the Holy.

I cast out a challenge, and a listening. For 90 days, I will put many creations out into the fire-powered web of magical stone slates. This text is one such signal. If this is pleasing to you, I ask you to feed this endeavour in whichever way you see best.

For my part, I’m welcoming enriching collaborations. I have set up a subscription service, asking five of our common tokens per month, a month being about a 12th of our world's regular pilgrimage around our sun. If 50 of my species choose to subscribe to this service, I will offer them a monthly workshop. If more… well, let's just start with that. But I see more workshops, ones that help people collaborate in different ways. I see people bringing their people along, and using these workshops as incubators. I see that these workshops will help them collaborate with one another, and bring out their gifts in a fun and playful way.

I digress, and you have many more worthwhile entreaties to hear. I have many plans and ideas.

But here is me now, listening.

This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit storypaths.substack.com/subscribe

(there’s a rich audio version of this post above, if you’d care to listen)

Welcome to season four of the Story Paths podcast, and newsletter.

I'm writing this (originally on paper) from within a wooden cabin off-grid in a valley known as Saranagati Valley, a place with whom I share deep experiences at key points of my life. I’m looking out over arid hills and the misty valley in the early morning, watching the sun creep down the hill on the far side as shadows recede and the day begins.

I'm curious where you're reading this. Perhaps at home, or in a free moment at work, on the bus…

If you're a returning listener for the podcast, you can trust that this season will bring more of what you love. There will be explorations of story-making and storytelling, narrative experiments, and discussions with interesting guests.

Also, in this season, Story Paths will be reinvented. This podcast is now joined by the Story Paths Newsletter, goes deeper and wider into what’s spoken of in the podcast.

In this season, I’ll be getting into the nitty-gritty of how stories work, the beauty of how they work. And to top it off, we’ll explore how this nitty-gritty and beauty play with each other.

This will be practical, and evocative.

There is much in store for you, from the journeys of planets to the journeys of turtles, and how all this helps us in the stories of our own lives and vocations.

Yes, vocation. I’ll focus this season on how stories relate to our chosen work, and how we can find the meaningful stories within that work.

There will be a free and paid version of this podcast and newsletter, with the paid version being a fuller exploration, with more possibility for interaction and practice telling yours tories.

Until the next...

This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit storypaths.substack.com/subscribe

I recently attended a Peacemakers’ Gathering, hosted by the Cowichan People, here in the Salish Sea Ecosystem. In this gathering, people came from all over to make bridges and heal ancestral hurts. In this episode I share a song inspire by the opening ceremony of this gathering, and my friend Eric Fair-Layman shares a beautiful and poignant poem about grief and grieving, inspired by the work of Martin Prechtel.

This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit storypaths.substack.com/subscribe

Have you ever walked into a supermarket and wondered about the stories behind the food there on the shelf? Those corn chips… on which land did they grow, who tended them, and what is the inter-generational relationship between the corn seeds and the people who tended them over generations?

How might we begin to bring story back into our food, our clothes, our fuel, and all the anonymous beings we depend on?

Today my guest is Tad Hargrave. He's known for his business marketing for hippies, but today he's coming as a student of myth, particularly Scottish songs and stories, as well as Scottish Gaelic. Tamara Strijack and Rebecca Wall also chime in with some questions and thoughts.

This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit storypaths.substack.com/subscribe

What is a man? Who can father? When does it go right, and how can it go wrong?

Poems by John O’donohue and Grace Paley

Reflections by Amora Sun and Chay Beriault, and my weird self.

Mentioned in the episode:

The Outside Circle graphic novel, written by Patti LaBoucane-Benson and illustrated by Kelly Mellings.

The Ojibwe author Richard Wagamese

This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit storypaths.substack.com/subscribe

Hello dear listener,

Beneath the stories of everyday life - news, politics and the like - lie deeper stories. And deeper still. Back into deep time, and into the timeless. Into bedrock stories. As bedrock determines the alkalinity of the soil layered above it, these deep stories affect the many stories layered above.

Through her relationship with a humble river in the north of England, Laura Burns found insight into these deeper layers. Give yourself time and space to listen to this one - a walk in the woods might be best, or along a river. It's a deep dive.

If you'd like to hear the full music for this, From me, Theodore, it's available as a bonus episode.

Listen through the link in the bio, or wherever you find your podcasts.

Here’s a clip from the interview.

Discover Laura’s work here.

This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit storypaths.substack.com/subscribe

Welcome to a special Mother's Day episode, where six guest poets and storytellers break down suffocating ideas of what a mother must be, to make space for the primal torrent of the earthy, crazy, profoundly deepening realites. And this isn't just about biological mothers, though god bless 'em, we need 'em.

Our guests share traditional stories, heartfelt poems, and personal experiences that delve into the twists and burns of motherhood. Through their stories, we'll discover that motherhood is not just about the Hallmark card version of it. It's a messy, complicated journey that often defies our expectations and challenges us in ways we never imagined.

We'll hear from mothers who have experienced loss, sacrifice, and moments of pure exhaustion. We'll also hear from those who have found unexpected beauty and fulfillment in the chaos of motherhood.

Our guests will challenge limited conceptions about motherhood and reveal something more primal and deeply resonant within all of us. So join us as we celebrate motherhood in all its complexity, and honor the women who have loved and nurtured us throughout our lives. Happy Mother's Day!

Transcript:

Mother's Day May 2023 assembled

[00:00:00] Theo

Welcome to the story paths podcast. I'm theatre Lowery, and this is our mother's day special. My birthday was recently. And on that day I reached out. Uh, some online and in person. Communities and asked if anyone would like to share some stories, some reflections, some poems. About mother's day.

And I'm glad to say they sent me an intriguing variety of offerings.

From a story, reframing a childhood.

To a poem about motherhood from the trenches.

To reflections on breaking societal molds of motherhood.

To a deepening [00:01:00] into the fierce beauty. Of mother earth.

We begin with a story from storyteller, Carrie taught. And this one is broadly about childhood. The realm of mothers.

About relationship. With elders about carrying guilt and the stories that we tell ourselves. And as you listen, whether you're old or young or male or female, you might imagine that you were the boy. And this story.

And that this is part of your childhood.

Once upon a time there was a boy and he lived on a [00:02:00] small farm in the distant remote countryside at least 10 miles away from the closest village, and his family ran the farm small vegetable farm that also had 12 apricot trees and chickens, and two cows and six sheep. And the boy named Jimmy. Worked very hard on the farm along with his family, and together they produced enough food to survive on as well as to sell at market for a moderate modest income.

Well, one day Jimmy was not doing his chores. But instead was playing by the old well, and he had been told many, many, many times by his mother to stay away from the old. Well, but there he was nonetheless, because there was something magnetic about that deep, dark void in the earth. And, and he just couldn't stay away.

And he loved the way, when he reached his arm down, the air felt different because it was cold and still. [00:03:00] And when he leaned over and smelled, it smelled damp and earthy. There used to be wood on top of the well for obvious safety precautions, but at a particularly bad time of storms, the family used the wood to board up the windows and nobody had got around to replacing it.

Well, I know that you can see where this story is going. Jimmy did fall down the well, and he lodged his foot between rocks at the bottom and he couldn't move. He tried to free his foot. He thought, well, maybe he could scramble up, but the walls were far too tall and too steep for that. Anyway, Jimmy was terrified.

And he knew that nobody was gonna find him until at least dinner. Everybody was off doing their chores, either working in the house or working in the fields or working when in the orchard or attending to the animals. Everybody was doing what they were supposed to be doing and nobody would notice that he [00:04:00] was gone.

The dinner bell was hours away. And in that time, Jimmy, Thought. Terrible, terrible thoughts. He wondered what would happen if nobody ever found him and he starved to death. What, what if they had to cut off his leg to get him out? What if, what if his family was so angry with him for the trouble they caused that they sent him away to live somewhere else?

Oh, why? Why wasn't Jimmy? Doing what he was supposed to be doing. Why did he not listen to his mother? Why was he playing near the, well? Why wasn't he doing his chores like he was supposed to? Why couldn't he have just been a good boy? Why? Well, sure enough, when the dinner bell rang and Jimmy didn't appear for dinner, the family sprung into action.

You see, there are a lot of accidents that can happen on a small farm at the edge of the wilderness, and they didn't wait to see if Jimmy was just [00:05:00] dillydallying. They jumped up and they spread out and they searched and it didn't take long for them to discover Jimmy at the bottom of the well. But the problem was really about how to get him out.

You see, Jimmy's foot was still stuck. He couldn't free himself. And the entrance to the well, the opening of the well was too narrow for anybody else to fit down, to come down and help. And they were afraid that if they tried to dig a wider opening, that the rocks and debris in the mud would fall on top of Jimmy.

And they finally decided the only thing they could do. Was to dig a parallel shaft beside the well and then dig across to free. Jimmy. Well, they sent the kids out to the neighboring farms to rally for help, and soon they had gathered a work crew. And they worked around the clock in shifts digging and digging and digging.

And it took five days and five [00:06:00] nights before they were able to free Jimmy from the well. And in that time, not one moment was Jimmy left alone. There was always somebody sitting at the mouth of the well with him talking down to him in. Calming, soothing, reassuring voices. They sang to him. They told him stories.

They read aloud. They even brought Jimmy's little baby sister to come and coup and babble and giggle down the well. They sent down as much love and comfort as they could. They sent him his favorite food. They sent down blankets. They hauled up his toilet waste. They tried to fill Jimmy up with as much love and comfort and reassurance as they could, and after five days when they freed Jimmy, there was a huge celebration and everybody came.

It was a giant potluck and, and there was so much celebrating. Jimmy was the hero. [00:07:00] He was celebrated and Jimmy went to bed and cried himself to sleep.

Not one person said a thing to Jimmy about the terrible inconvenience of missing five days of work on the farm. Not one person said anything about the apricots dropping off the trees and rotting on the ground or, or about the. Cut worms that were devastating, the cabbage patch. Nobody said anything about why Jimmy was playing at the well in the first place.

Nobody scolded him. Nobody said, why weren't you checking the fences like you were supposed to? Nobody said any of that. Nobody teased him. Nobody made fun of having to haul up his toilet waste, none of that. But Jimmy was ashamed and embarrassed, and he made a promise to himself that night. Jimmy promised himself that he would never again cause so [00:08:00] much anguish to somebody else.

Never again would he require so much labor. Never again would he be a burden. Never again would he be so helpless.

I, and although Jimmy was forever grateful, He carried a small cold stone in his heart for the rest of his life where he kept his fear and his sadness, and his shame, and his loneliness. Jimmy grew up to be a kind and generous and serious. And successful man. He was philanthropic, but he always kept himself a little apart from the world.

He was always a little bit alone and a little bit sad if only he had spoken those feelings aloud. If only he [00:09:00] had heard how others told this story. You see, for some people this was a st…

This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit storypaths.substack.com/subscribe

Rob Hopkins is a champion of imagination, and he does something radical in these times: he helps people imagine a good future.

Not a utopia, nor a dystopia, but the kind of rooted, realistic, multi-faceted, creative and juicy future that can draw us toward it.

He’s found that frightening people with charts about climate change isn’t as potent as inviting them into what they’d like to see… and hear, and taste, especially in the near future. What would it be like to inhabit the future you really want? What is the role of story in moving toward that succulent future?

Rob is the co-founder of the international Transition Town Movement, the host of the podcast From what is to what next? and the author of numerous excellent books. Our conversation was lively, uplifting, challenging and funny.

Theo’s links:

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Rob’s links:

Rob Hopkins’ website

People Rob mentioned whom he’s inspired by, with some links to get started learning about them:

Adrienne Maree Brown

Walidah Imarisha

Mariame Kaba

Rasheedah Phillips: Black Quantum Futurism

The Ministry for the Future by Kim Stanley Robinson

This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit storypaths.substack.com/subscribe

I must say I'm excited about this one. In this time, imagining an apocolypse is lazy. Imagining a mansion and money is likely self-indulgent. But how about a vibrant collective imagining of the future that is rooted deep in the past?

Let's try that.

This is a vision story, calling in possible futures, crafted and recorded with care.

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This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit storypaths.substack.com/subscribe