yyjStoryteller

  When Grief Finds Its Voice “Stories are medicine.” — Clarissa Pinkola Estés “The human species thinks in metaphors and learns through stories.” — Mary Catherine Bateson A story told in grief is a step toward healing. Sometimes we tell stories not to explain, but to survive. When words finally take shape around our pain, the chaos within begins to find order. The act of telling—of giving shape to the unspeakable—can be a kind of alchemy, turning sorrow into something we can hold, examine, and perhaps even share. Grief isolates, but stories connect. When we share our stories of loss or hardship, the burden lightens—not because the sorrow disappears, but because someone else helps us carry it. In the listening, we are reminded that we are not alone. Storytelling, in its deepest form, is not about performance—it’s about presence. It’s a way of saying: I have been there too. I have felt the cold wind you feel now. And somehow, I have found my way forward. So today, I offer th...

    “Stories are medicine.” — Clarissa Pinkola Estés “The human species thinks in metaphors and learns through stories.” — Mary Catherine Bateson A story told in grief is a step toward healing. Sometimes we tell stories not to explain, but to survive. When words finally take shape around our pain, the chaos within begins to find order. The act of telling—of giving shape to the unspeakable—can be a kind of alchemy, turning sorrow into something we can hold, examine, and perhaps even share. Grief isolates, but stories connect. When we share our stories of loss or hardship, the burden lightens—not because the sorrow disappears, but because someone else helps us carry it. In the listening, we are reminded that we are not alone. Storytelling, in its deepest form, is not about performance—it’s about presence. It’s a way of saying: I have been there too. I have felt the cold wind you feel now. And somehow, I have found my way forward. So today, I offer this thought: Has a sto...