06 November 2014
I went to a teen mom digital storytelling event last night. Their stories were complex and emotional. It felt like I was being told the dark secrets of strangers, myself and an auditorium of people. I could see the discomfort in the moms as their words were released into the room. It was the first time for many of them to tell their story. I was left with an awkward clumsy feeling at the end of the event. Here we are amongst all these complex interactions, emotional entanglements and authentic confusion moving forward without much knowledge of ourselves. The energy of the room felt chaotic to me.
We don't know how to have these conversations. We don't know how to not cast our own shadow on the light of others. We don't know how to listen and then hear what is being shared with us.
Our stories are to be told
I hope that we never stop telling our stories
I hope we find new strength in our truths every time we tell them
I hope that we find that roaring thunder of unconditional love for all the dips - valleys - peaks that we've journeyed to arrive right here
and maybe by telling our stories we will be better able to listen and hear the stories of others.