Video: Storytelling and empathy

One of my favorite things about storytelling is the way it functions as a magic trick. A well-told and well-crafted story evokes a very specific kind of neurological response which makes us more predisposed to building relationships or acting in the way the narrator hopes to move you. This makes storytelling an incredibly powerful tool, moving the audience to action. Like any tool, it can be used for good or for ill, but you will use it more effectively when you understand how it works.

The following video is by Paul Zak, the leading researcher on brain chemistry and narrative; I refer to his work extensively in my own consulting, coaching and teaching work, using science to support better storytelling. This video clearly and simply explains some of what happens when you hear an emotionally evocative story with a clear narrative arc. This may be useful for you in your own work as you think about how to craft meaningful stories.

I will come back to applied neurology and storytelling in the coming months.



(c)2017 Laura S. Packer

The Telling life: Sacred breath

In just a moment I'm going to ask you to stop reading this post. I'm going to ask you to sit up a little straighter, to relax your hands in your lap, to close your eyes and to take in a slow deep breath. As you do, feel your lungs expand and contract. Feel the warmth of the air you expel, the rush of it through your nostrils or lips. Let go of the stress and tension you may have been holding. After you've done this two or three times, come back to this post. There's more I'd like to share with you.

Okay. It's time. Stop reading, close your eyes, relax and breathe. I'll wait.

Now do it again.

Welcome back. How do you feel? A little more grounded, I hope?

My mentor and friend, Brother Blue, used to start each of his storytelling sessions with a collective breath. He said it was calling the muse. It was. With that great sigh we, those assembled, became a community and blessed the room with our breath. We took that moment to allow creativity to flow through us. It gave us a sacred pause.

There is a commonly touted belief that, with each breath, we breath air shared by Julius Caesar and maybe even dinosaurs. That isn't precisely true, but the truth is even more amazing. Every breath we take, every time we inhale, we are breathing in atoms that have been here (functionally) forever. Our bodies break apart those air molecules and take what they need, then we exhale the waste. The oxygen we breath is a byproduct of life: When the planet was young there was very little oxygen, it developed thanks to photosynthetic organisms, so the oxygen we breath is life giving to life. The carbon dioxide we exhale may go on to nourish a tree that will emit oxygen and, in time, decompose to carbon that will nourish other organisms, some of which your grandchildren may eat.

Every time we speak our bodies shape our thoughts, into vibrations in our vocal cords. What is quite literally an image of the electrical activity directed in our brains is then pushed by breath and creates sound vibrations that ripple through the air and directly impacts the tympanic membranes of our listeners. The vibration we feel in our own bodies as we tell stories is felt by our listeners.

So what does breath have to do with storytelling? Everything. It helps us connect to our listeners in real, physical ways - the electric spark of thought becoming vibration, powered by breath to become sound. Each breath contains some element of the birth of life.

When Brother Blue would ask us all to sigh together it was more than creating community, more than imploring the Muse for assistance, more even than gathering thoughts to tell stories, it was blessing each other with life. With hope. With story.

Breath is sacred. Breathe deep.

(c)2015 Laura S. Packer

Shutting up the voices

I have voices in my head. Not psychotic voices, at least not so far as I know, but destructive little murmurs that tell me I can't do some things, will never be the best I can be, should stop and consider the consequences of my actions rather than being bold and risky. I'm betting many of you have them too.

These voices have kept me from trying many things or have held me back from really committing myself to grand adventures. Sometimes I conquer them: When I first got on a bike 10 years ago the voices were terrible, telling me I could never be an athlete. I've learned to ignore them, can ride for many miles and have learned to love being active. And sometimes I can't. That's when I become reticent, stumble, am afraid to take any risks because I might fail. Even writing a blog post seems impossible when the voices get going.

Who wants to read that anyway? What have you got to say? Just watch tv.

I read an article today about a new technology, low-level electrical stimulation of the brain, that appears to make the voices shut up and encourages the state known as "flow." What if we could wear a "thinking cap" that made us more confident? Less afraid? Able to be who we are, without fear or voices intruding?

The author of Better Living Through Electrochemistry makes it clear that her experiment with a thinking cap was extraordinary. While she wore the cap she could learn more easily and more confidently. She was able to get out of her own way.

The potential ethical considerations of this technology are considerable. If only the wealthy could afford thinking caps, would that make the opportunity gap between rich and poor even greater? And there isn't good research yet available on the long-term effects of low-level electromagnetic stimulation of the brain. Is it a good idea to have what is essentially mild ECT to help you through the day? Does your brain adapt, will you need greater and greater dosages for this to keep working?

But I have to tell you, when I read about the thinking cap and that it made the voices simply stop... I don't know that I would say no if someone offered one to me. Even if I knew that the effects weren't permanent, that I would need more treatments at greater dosages. If I could shed the voices and uncertainty, what would I give for the chance to be my best self, all the time? What would I trade to achieve flow without trying? A great deal, I suspect.

That understanding of myself and my relationship with the voices in my head leads me to this: How sad it is that I cripple myself with my own doubt and worry. Because that's what the voices are, even if they sound like family or teachers or society, they are my own self-sabotage in whispers and hisses.

So I have to ask myself, how can I silence the voices, really rid myself of them (not simply muzzle them, because they still can make me flinch at the wrong moment even if I can't hear them) without mechanical assistance? How can I live in flow more often?

I don't know.  Beyond living my life as fully as I can, beyond remembering to take risks and accept success as well as failure, beyond forgiving myself for my inadequacies, I don't know. I'd love to know how you keep your voices at bay.

I'm doing my best to kill the voices, one by one, by doing exactly what they say I cannot. I don't need a chorus in my head, just one strong voice, telling me I can achieve my goals. I just need that voice to be my own.

(c)2012 Laura S. Packer