How do we know what we know about someone? Well, if we have a personal relationship, our understanding comes from direct connection, from the memories that we share, from the stories they have told us, from the actions that we have witnessed, from the growth we have seen along the way.
If we do not know someone, our recognition for who they are, what they believe in, how they show up in the world, are experienced through a variety of preconceived notions, generalized assumptions and a collection of stories that we have gathered throughout our lives to help us interpret the intentions of and safety related to other people.
This cascade of narratives, ones that have been imprinted on us through the many social and societal interactions that we have observed and retained to help us make quick judgments, often leave us with a false sense of knowing, a list of qualities and trajectories that may have little to no basis for simply through inference.
Think about it, how many times have you unintentionally written an entire story for someone you see across the street, on a bus, or while you scroll on social media from the way they dress, the items they care about, the accent they speak with, the expression on their face. How many micro-moments have you landed within where in an instant you assumed someone’s mood, their personality, their needs without ever uttering a word.
While this may seem inconsequential, banal even, as we go about our day, walking past strangers on our way through the grocery store aisle, it is of crucial importance, especially when it comes to how we navigate policy decisions and how we determine where energy, time and resources around allocated as we press for social change.
This is why the act of storytelling, creating intentional spaces for the exchange of personal narratives is so transformational. By hearing first-hand accounts, from childhood memories to significant inflection points to the the lessons learned that have imparted the greatest wisdom, we can fill in the blanks left by our subconsciously concocted micro-screenplays and instead begin to cultivate a 3D model of those around us. This not only clears away those biases left by our socially constructed imaginations, but helps us to relate to others, even others who we will never share space with, in a way that humanizes and harmonizes our own lived experience.
By hearing the personal narratives of others, we give ourselves permission to see how our emotions, our mistakes, our strengths mirror those of so many others. That the underlying motivations each one of us strive towards for belonging, for safety, for purpose are copy and pasted throughout humanity whether our circumstances, dreams or barriers align or differ vastly.
This insight enables empathy to build, making it easier to listen when we disagree, make space for dialogue when we would otherwise dismiss, and encourage vulnerability even when we feel the pain of not feeling seen. It is through this transparency, that removal of the veil that often leaves us without context for the trials of others that we formulate new perceptions, where we embrace the joint mission that we are working towards and open our eyes to the possibility that perhaps we all want the same things.
It is this mechanism for connection that can heal us in the presence of others and in turn heal our relationship to ourselves. If we are wildly capable of harnessing grace and recognition for others, could we also be able to turn this compassion in on ourselves? Could we activate the power of giving the benefit of the doubt through the stories that we hear of fear, of anger, of survival and reflect them back on the inner turmoil many of us forever shame ourselves for indulging?
By becoming a better receiver of the life histories of others, we gain a deeper sense of togetherness, shedding the loneliness of our smallness for the universal truths that affect all people, and it is through this re-imagining that we can reframe every heartbreak, ever screw-up, ever indicator of not enoughness, as a turning point in our own trajectory, leading us towards the next chapter.
This self-reinforcing circle of communication and self-awareness is vital for our breaking down the harmful barriers that divide us. By giving kindness to ourselves we are better equipped to shine warmth and love towards others. By seeing others as like us, having been through trials, suffered hardships, overcome obstacles, built lives of love and community, we can embrace a deeper listening that allows those stories to guide us back to both ourselves and one another.
Think about how we might show up differently to an interaction with someone who has completely opposing beliefs if we first ask ourselves what we have in common, if we get curious about what they have been through, what has led them to where they are now, what conditioning they have been subjected to and what opportunities for unlearning we can explore together by opening up.
How would the way that we comment on posts change if we knew that the person on the other side was deeply hurting, had experienced a recent loss or was coping by trying to exert control?
How would decisions about where we invest in communities change if those who have been marginalized had the same to share the big and small ways that systems could shift to better support them by sharing examples from their every day, shining light on the journey that has led them to where they are standing.
The answer is simple, by fostering space for sharing stories, together we can embody a different world — a world of questions, of mutual intrigue and ultimately, a world that gives us the opportunity to embrace each other and work through challenges from a place of wanting to know and be known, shifting towards compassion, kindness and community.
