I’ve joined the Tracking Wonder quest groups for a few years now. It means answering a series of prompts throughout the month of December to envision the coming year. The Quest has become a part of my annual journey and planning process. It’s not too late to join and connect with an incredible pack of artists, entrepreneurs and ordinary, authentic, messy people. http://quest2017.com
Last year was one of dissolution for me. My Quest last year was largely private, and often angsty. I was not sure of who I was, or what would come of 2016. That turned out to be prophetic for the way 2016 has gone in general.
In the last few weeks, you’ve seen more blog posts here than I’ve posted in the entire year prior. As I skim my last several blog posts, the tone and voice of them had already shifted. It is heartening to see that I’ve been becoming someone all along.
If I’m going to do this, and if I’m going to keep writing healing posts, if I’m going to step all the way into my story, then it can’t be a secret. I have to own it. I have to go there. There is a lot of fear that comes with this vulnerability. There is a part of me that would prefer to keep my secret self safe and free from scrutiny or critique. There is a larger, louder part that is demanding recognition.
Buckle up, buttercup. It’s about to get weird.
Today’s prompt is from visionary, author and speaker, Krista Tippet. Krista asks:
What is your vocation, your sense of callings as a human being at this point in your life, both in and beyond job and title?
I’ve always had a strange mix of things that attracted me. I wanted to be an astronaut, a college professor, a marine biologist. I wanted to be a rock star, an actor, an author. I wanted to be a diplomat, a linguist, a traveler. Lately, I’ve explored the desire to be a docent, a student, a scholar. What I am is a storyteller, a healer, a catalyst.
To really understand this calling, you need to read this excerpt from the introduction of Martin Prechtel’s The Disobedience of the Daughter of the Sun.
There are stories, other stories and still different stories; there are myths, legends, fairy tales, folk tales, and many others. …this story and others like it are not regular stories. They are not the easy stories; they are not folktales. Perhaps they are mythological, but on the other hand, they’re not that either. They are the special stories.
What can be said about them is that they are alive, and being alive they are not just told at any time, but only in the dark. Though everyone by a certain age knows a version of these living stories, only certain people, those accepted storytellers, can tell them and will admit to their knowledge of them, for it is in the telling only that these stories live, and being ancient, big and hungry, they must be brought alive well.
Another thing we could say is that these stories are from the other world, the invisible world, the world of life-giving spirit out of which these types of stories come clicking and clanking as bare bony frames of themselves until the storyteller the “word maker” Bney Tzii, refleshes each story, “re-membering” it back to life using the everyday life of the village world to dress the bones.
What is my True Calling?
I’m a Storyteller. I remember the big, hungry stories. And they remember me.