The New Story – Storytelling as a Pathway to Peace E-Book

Inger Lise Oelrich

• Herausgeber: Books on Demand
• Kategorie: Fachliteratur
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 563

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2020

Beschreibung

In THE NEW STORY more than 30 tales from around the world and easy to do exercises give a fresh and encouraging take on how to bring about understanding, compassion and transformation in a wide spectrum of life situations - at school, in work life, at home, in a quiet conversation with a friend but also in the wider arena of multicultural politics, mediation and social healing. During times of turbulence and conflict, storytelling dedicated to peace and reconciliation has proven successful in creating a common ground between people of all ages, from different cultures and disparate world views. A human culture is cultivated, engendering a free space where story speaks to story and we come to appreciate the uniqueness of everyone´s contribution to a more inclusive and resilient society. In rich and lively picture language myths, wisdom tales, life stories and intuitively created stories are shared and everyone has a voice. Full of practical examples combined with leading edge contributions from modern storytellers at work in places like Israel, Kurdistan and the Nordic countries, this book will inspire all who are looking to awaken positivity and enthusiasm wherever they are. Here you will learn new skills to heal the past, honor the present and create sustainable futures together with others.

Leseprobe

To joy of life

To the spark of freedom

and

To the future of the blesséd earth

CONTENTS

Chapter 1. The Call

Chapter 2. Story

Chapter 3. Warmth of Being

Chapter 4. The Gift

Chapter 5. Being Moved

Chapter 6. Learning to See

Chapter 7. Language of Metaphor

Chapter 8. Human Being and Technology

Chapter 9. Community of Belonging

Chapter 10. Life Stories

Chapter 11. Israel and Iraq – Two examples

Chapter 12. Common Ground of Earth and Story

Chapter 1

THE CALL

One human being. And then another, and another. That's all it takes to begin to change the world. Maybe we get caught by a flash of insight, seeing commonplace things in a new light and suddenly realize what is to be done. Though none other see it. Perhaps we have been living with a riddle, a question for a long time and one day it is mature and ready and just steps into the world. Or, it may come deeply and directly out of our being, and we just respond. We find ourselves in the middle of a situation and we just do it. Afterwards we think about what happened. And then it becomes a story.

Welcome to the world of storytelling and heartfelt good listening. This is a place where the imaginative abilities of us all can be put in service of a greater whole, supporting peaceful, transformative processes in all manner of life situations. Whether you are a parent relating to your children and spouse at home, or a corporate executive wanting to communicate with your employees; whether you are trying to mediate between warring factions or simply want to connect to a deeper source of humanity in the world – Welcome! Speaking and listening, sharing experiences within and without, is a way of being together which goes back far to the beginning of time. This is something we all know how to do, it is the birthright of every human being. You too possess this gift of entering into conversation, with yourself, with the people around you and with the deeper wisdom in the challenges and joys on your life's path. In the weaving back and forth of word and silence, stories are born. Communities of understanding can grow here. Life acquires beauty and new meaning.

This book is based on a lifetime's work, research and play with storytelling and the social arts, where two or more gather to listen and create together. Over the years a methodology has grown which develops faculties of seeing with greater heart and soul, thus expanding our capacity for wakefulness and compassion, ingenuity and radical thinking. All qualities much needed in our present time.

It is clear that living together peacefully today calls for a new development of our capacities – we need to practice new skills. Community doesn't happen naturally anymore. We seem to have lost a common language and a common ground of understanding. Estrangement from life processes and the world of nature with its living landscapes is pushing us towards alienation, and so we can feel lost in the world. Very many people experience a deep sense of loneliness and of not belonging. Wherever you turn these days, whoever you speak to or when listening to the news, there are problems of understanding each other and the needs of the earth – difficulties in communicating, coming to decisions and finding viable ways forward. Often there is a lack of, or a confusion of vision: where are we actually going, how do we navigate in life? The old forms do not hold – we see them crumbling everywhere. In spite of the strong focus on technological prowess and digital brilliance, with its promise of a united world where the machines will connect us up and free us by doing all the work for us, people are more stressed than ever, running faster and faster in their daily lives. That is, if they live in the West. Another large part of humanity is suffering depravation of life and loss of human dignity in the form of famine, poverty and exploitation. This, mind you, in a world where there would be enough food to feed us all, if we co-operated with the earth and worked it in a natural way.

The on-going eruptions of war and armed conflict in the world are direct expressions of the breakdown of speech and dialogue in a community. We know that when people are not able to express themselves with words, they turn to violence. The inner pressures of frustration, suffering and need must find an outlet. If a person cannot be creative, he easily becomes destructive. Anything to communicate. The power of the living word between people is replaced by a sword of destruction. To learn to speak and listen and take charge of your own life is fundamental and educational peace work. Storytelling activities are an excellent way of developing this practice.

Nowadays, community is a real virtue and asks of us all to be inwardly mobile and creative. At the same time, we are each confronted with the need to formulate our own values and ground of ethical living, building the world from where we stand. This is one of the big challenges for us all, in face of the many world questions and problems we are confronted with today. There are no easy answers. However, I am convinced that intimations of possible futures together in all shapes and guises lie in wait in the rich potential of our creative imagination. Nowhere else, actually. It's up to us human beings.

The work presented here comes out of a deep conviction that there indeed is something we can do about the current situation facing us in the world today. That 'something' is about coming together in freedom to connect to our common humanity and to explore the many facets of life as expressed in the individuals present. It is also about accessing the wisdom of all those who have gone before us through the myths, wonder tales, legends and spiritual legacies of the world, handed down to us through the ages by word of mouth. These stories belong to us, as the wind and the stars and sea belong to us – they come from our ancestors and contain a treasure chest full of knowledge and lived experience. But more than anything, storytelling work is about igniting the power of the human spirit, a creative spark which lives in every one of us and holds the key to, and source of our future.

GETTING INTO MOVEMENT

Some years ago, soon after the turn of the millennium, there was a football match at a big stadium in Belgium. The stands were full, the crowds were cheering, the game was full on. Suddenly one wing of the lecterns collapsed, literally broke under the weight of the crowd. People started panicking and ran in great hordes in all directions to get out. Some fell and were trampled underfoot by the surging masses. There was chaos everywhere. In the midst of all this one man stopped and stood by one of the fallen ones lying on the ground. He just stood there while the hordes of panicking people swept past, parting ways around him, no doubt with some knocking and bustling. Still he stood there over the recumbent human being. Soon another person stopped and stood by him. And then, more and more people stopped. All the while, the mad rush of the crowd surged past them. Ten, fifteen, twenty people stopped and between them, they created a space. Many lives were saved.

This is a powerful image. And something that actually happened, only recently. We can be inspired by this and understand that sometimes we don't have do anything proactively in a situation. Sometimes it is enough to see what is happening, to stop and stand by what you love and hold most dear. Stand there, against all odds. Take a stand. In such a way, others can come and join you. Those who see and hear will come. And soon there will be many. In this way you can create a space where something else happens. This space is a possibility for something new to grow. We may not be able to stop the surge over the hill, or the massive onslaught of the crowd, but we can stop ourselves and just stand and breathe and say: Maybe there is something else we want to do here. Could we have a breathing space, a listening space, see if we could come to a freedom space?

Let us turn our eyes to another part of the world, to the west coast of the United States. Here in some protected places is the home of the redwoods. Giants of time and space, these are coniferous trees rearing up their red trunks counted in thousands of years on earth. They are ancient, they are huge and they are full of money for those who want to make goodly-sized planks for multi-million dollar homes. What is a tree? Well, it is all in the eyes of the beholder, isn't it? To other eyes, a tree connects heaven and earth, and a large, old tree has a particular task in the cosmology of living beings.

One day a young woman of 19 summers turned up at a Save-the-Redwoods camp, drawn irresistibly by the beauty of the trees. She volunteered to climb up 80 meters to a 'tree-sit' on a small 2 x 3 meter makeshift ledge. The tree was under threat by a timber company but as long as someone was in the tree, they could not cut it down. Fired by her love and passion for the redwoods, she ended up living for more than two years in the tree without coming down, enduring cold winters, wild storms and times alone there. This was longer than any other experienced activist had ever spent in a tree. Her long vigil finally bore fruit and the tree was protected. Then she climbed down. Since then Julia Butterfly Hill has devoted her life to supporting people in finding what they really believe in. Find Your Tree, she calls her project, and nowadays she travels around the world as an activist and a staunch supporter and guardian of what she loves: the earth.

This too is a real story, a heroic story of our time. I can see what it does to my daughters and their teenage friends when I tell them about Julia Butterfly Hill. Their eyes light up, their fingers let go of the incessant clicking on their mobiles and the nervousness of having to stay in touch constantly. This is another way of connecting. Now the young hearts are open, willing and listening, longing to hear of something which is worthwhile and real. Longing to be part of a world of meaning, excited to hear that life is not just a virtual reality and an endless game. Of course they are! They are vibrant young people full of life and power!

Why am I speaking about this? What has it got to do with storytelling and peace-building? Many things. First and foremost, you must WANT peace and transformation. You have to put your will into it, your imagination and your longing. Without inspired passion, things will not change. And there will be resistance, both inner and outer, on your way. You must be willing to meet such resistance and keep your eyes on the light, that which you love. Secondly, without an inspired vision of what could be, we will never take another step forward in our development. Nothing exists in the world that has not first made itself known in the mind and consciousness of a human being. Even if it is just an intimation of something, this is where all change starts. The physical chair that you sit on did not come first: the imagination of it did.

The development of the powers of our creative imagination is vital to the future of the earth, its peoples and all living beings.

An old grandfather was sitting by the fire with his grandchild. Puffing on his pipe and scraping together the embers, he blew and blew on them to bring flames to the fire and warmth into the tipi. After a while he spoke.

"You know child, in every human heart two wolves are living. They are fighting. One is fierce and angry and violent, full of hate and evil and destruction. And the other wolf is full of love and compassion, joy and friendship. There is always a battle going on between these two."

The little child was quiet a moment. Then he said,

"Which one will win, Grandfather?"

The old man looked at the little child, then he said,

"The one you feed."

This book is for all who are interested in storytelling as a healing, helping activity between human beings, wherever you are in the world. You need have no prior knowledge or experience of storytelling to start! My particular vantage point is coming from northern Europe and I will be speaking about the experience of living in the Nordic countries with their own peculiarities in the people, the landscape, the weather. I hope that it will spark off some inspiration for you in relation to your own surroundings, maybe finding new ways of seeing old furniture. The Scandinavian countries have a tradition for peace-bringing initiatives and one of the realities of our part of the world is that we have not been at war for a very long time. Some of our countries were involved in the Second World War, but when it comes to fighting each other, we have to go back many generations. Our relationship to nature is very strong and quite possibly a contributing factor to this culture of peaceful co-existence.

I will also be sharing my own journey as a multi-cultural person growing up in several countries. This is a theme that has become more and more common, an expression of how globalisation is increasing in our lives. Many challenges arise from this loosening of the connection to only one land: confusion of identity and cultural belonging, the expansion into a more globally-oriented consciousness and the search for new values to build one's life on. Traditional forms of nationalism have trouble maintaining their relevance in the face of the many travelling folk and mixed marriages we see today. However, not only difficulties arise with the advent of multicultural societies: much potential for growth and development, peace and understanding lies hidden in these new constellations of peoples.

You will read here about work done in a variety of contexts where storytelling has been applied for the benefit of a greater whole or the healing of an individual. Maybe the one cannot happen without the other and indeed, one of the strengths of storywork is that it works with forms where both the individual and the group have a voice. You will find stories, exercises, cases and reflections on what it is to be a human being today. Storyteller colleagues of mine from around the world, each working within their own field, bring contributions in the form of little nugget stories, enriching the scope of this book. The ALBA Peace Project has its particular place in the whole, as it was an opportunity to do some actual research on the skills and competencies of the storyteller in peace-supporting situations. The Iraq Dialogue Meeting hosted by the Swedish government was an opportunity for me to bring storytelling into a political context. Again I saw how potent and peaceable storywork is and how it opens up new ways of connecting with the common ground of our humanity.

A long stream of projects, initiatives, workshops and symposia feed into this work, which I have developed over the years. In 2006 I founded a Nordic Healing Story Training, the curriculum of which provides the basis of Storytelling as a Pathway to Peace. It proves to be a method accessible to people from all professions and backgrounds, making it possible to connect with each other out of the richness of human culture. The aim of the training is to develop the imagination as an organ of cognition which in turn can serve and help others in need. It is built on the premise that we are all connected living beings on earth and that there are faculties of perception we can unfold to wake up in this, putting us in touch with a deeper knowing, a greater seeing and in short, making possible what one could call the beginnings of a moral imagination. This deeper seeing can help us unite with the knowledge of what is needed in each moment, and so working with storytelling in this way is not a fixed thing, there are no recipes to look up in a cook book. However, through practice and walking a path of development both on our own and together with others, our imaginative faculties can grow into a more comprehensive way of seeing, speaking and listening that is helpful to others.

Storytelling activities are a way of working that include the whole human being. You don't have to be anything, know anything, do anything special – you just come as you are. A storyteller is someone who speaks freely without outer support of texts, pictures, microphones or any other outer acoutrements, unfolding a story to a listening group of people, who do not tape it, film it or in other ways allow their attention to be distracted from the present moment of taking in the story. In film, theatre, literature, computer games and art there are of course elements of story. But storytelling per se is the living speaking human being unfolding a story through the medium of the freely spoken word. This is the skill and social artform we are interested in here. The living presence of one human being to another.

In this book I use the word storytelling and storywork interchangeably, to denote both listening and telling, exercises, reflections, stories and the actual coming together in a circle or a gathering to practice this activity. It is not about becoming a professional performer so much as using storytelling as a helping, transformative way of being with each other. In my experience, this does not preclude brilliant and moving storytelling where people speak from the heart and the wisdom of their deeper knowledge and imagination.

You can journey through this book for pure inspiration and food for thought. You might dip into it and read it from moment to moment according to theme. That is quite possible. The exercises presented are available to anyone – do read them even if you don't plan to do them right away. They will deepen your picture of the work. There is a low threshold of stepping into these kinds of storytelling activities: anyone can do them when following the basic guidelines.

However, you will also find that the material is presented in a sequence of development, gradually fostering abilities and skills which grow and enrich each other as you go along. And like any skill, which once learnt and practiced sinks down to a deeper level of knowing, thus creating a base for new abilities and insights, so it is with this kind of storywork and getting to know the world of creative imagination. If pursued with gentleness and persistence, it will yield new and unthought of possibilities for communication and presence, bringing creative ways of moving forward in a relatively short period of time. Reading the book can be a companion for anyone wishing to work with people. I offer it herewith as a practical contribution to furthering peaceful co-existence and enlivening our creative abilities in meeting the future together.

JOE'S QUESTION

Joseph Campbell was the great mythologist of the 20th century and instrumental in putting back the power of myth and story onto the map of modern times, showing their relevance to human consciousness and evolution. He taught numerous students and seekers at Sarah Laurence College and among many things, was advisor to George Lucas when he made the Star Wars films. An influential thinker and a wonderfully wry teller of stories, he gathered his knowledge to begin with in a seminal work, Hero of a Thousand Faces. In it he goes through myths from all parts of the world, indigenous and religious, Eastern and Western, from pole to pole, covering the whole globe with his vast knowlege. One of his discoveries was that all stories go through similar steps in development, bringing transformation to both the seeker and the community at large. By the end of the story, new areas of consciousness and presence have been conquered. This new-found land brought new life and vitality to the world. Campbell called this the Hero's Journey. Of course it could also be the Heroine's Journey.

In spite of his many discoveries about world myths, fairytales and mythopoetic consciousness moving through the ages, Joseph Campbell left us all with a challenge. According to him, no single myth that exists can contain the new shift in consciousness, the present movement towards global community and multi-cultural life on earth. What is the new story? he asked. What myth can encompass the whole of humanity in our richness and variety of cultures and modes of being? Many have been working and thinking on this since then: storytellers, anthropologists and philosophers – seekers of all kinds. Over the course of my life and work I have come to understand something about the conundrum we as a global community are finding ourselves in and where or what the new story could be.

This book offers a kind of answer.

Chapter 2

STORY

It was a cold winter's evening in the North, way up in the dark green forests of Scandinavia. The snowflakes were falling white and thick and fast and the wind was whirling against the windowpanes. In the fireplace, the flames were flickering upwards, giving off their wild warmth while I was sitting, pressing the phone against my ear, listening intently. I was speaking to a storyteller and mime artist from Haifa in Israel. I had recently been given his name to ring and had never met him. The line was rather bad, and what with the wind howling around my chimney top and the crackling of the phone, I was shouting, all the way to Israel.

"Hello! Is that Said Salama?"

"Yes, yes!" I heard at the other end. I imagined a thin, thin thread going from the dark and cold winter landscape I was surrounded by, all the way down through Europe, crossing the Mediterranean, and onwards to the hot and dry land of old Palestine, also known as the Holy Land.

"I am ringing from Sweden. We are arranging an international symposium this summer called Storytelling as a Pathway to Peace."

"Yes, yes!"

"I would like to know if you can come and contribute? I have heard of your good work with Arab, Jewish and Palestinian children. How you have been bringing them together through your performances with pantomime, storytelling and play. Would you like to come?"

"Yes, yes!"

So far I had not heard him speak more than a few words and as I was the organizer of the symposium and in charge of the event, I was keen to hear through the long and crackling line what sort of a human being I was talking to. I knew from my earlier experiences, that a group of strong storytelling individuals from different countries and backgrounds, carrying a week-long gathering of 100 people with the theme of peace and reconciliation, would have to be of a special kind. This was not the place to bring your big egos, your vanity or need to be a star. This was a place where all presenters and workshop leaders came with their art, their wit and their presence to serve the theme at hand and the people who turned up. I knew hardly anything about this man I was talking to. My good friend and colleague Roi Gal-Or suggested I call him at the last minute, as someone else pulled out. Tomorrow the programme was to be printed and this was my last chance. I could not have a conference on peace and reconciliation with no speakers present from the Arab tradition. Hence this late night phone call.

Was this the right guy? How could I draw him out? This was potentially a dynamite theme, if I brought the wrong constellation of people together, the symposium could end in a catastrophe. If only he would say just a few more words! Hearing him speak would let me know fairly quickly what kind of a man I was talking to. The static on the line did its crackling dance, the snow storm moaned around the house. I was talking to Israel, my voice reaching all the way down to that mythic land, parched, I imagined in the sunlight. I was speaking to a complete stranger. How would I know? Suddenly he spoke.

"Yes, yes, I will come." Pause. "You know, my name is Said Salama. It means 'Happy Peace'. Said is happy in our language. Salama (Shalom) means peace. It is just like the symposium!"

"Yes!" I said enthusiastically. "It is!"

"But you know" he said, " I am very lonely!"

These words were said with deep passion.

"Yes?" I said, uncertain where this was leading. There was a silence, then he said,

"Here in Israel there are many happy people. But there is no peace!"

And I could truly hear the loneliness come through his soul, through the telephone lines, all the way to me as I sat at my grandfather's desk in my home in Sweden, while the kids were asleep upstairs. I knew then, that this was the right man to come. And I knew also, for a moment, with the starry night skies spread out high above the storm, twinkling and beckoning to me, that we all belong to one humanity, come from one great ground of peace.

Very quietly I put down the phone after we had talked and agreed and thanked each other well. And I sat and listened to the wind and I felt as if I listened into the heart of the world. The suffering, the longing, the joy and the fear of never getting there, to the peaceful abode where we can live together in abundance and creative life.

Some days later, I was in the Culture House where the symposium was to be held. I was talking to the director there and I told him about my conversation with Said and how his name means Happy Peace.

He looked at me thoughtfully for a moment. Then he said:

"That's funny. In Israel they are happy. But they have no peace. And here, we have plenty of peace, but no happiness."

Yes, yes! So true. Anyone living in Scandinavia will know that the main sources of suffering are depression, anxiety and deep melancholy. Despite all the material goods and our 'perfect' systems, people are not happy. They are often deeply troubled and sad. It is like a blanket of depression over everyone and everything. No, we do not have outer wars here, but in the arena of the soul, great battles are raging. One of the causes seems to be a loss of meaning in the face of the enormous material wealth that we possess. A lack of understanding of how things are connected and a misdirected tendency to rationalize every part of human life, coming out of some kind of illusion that life itself and human beings actually can be controlled. Could it be, that in some wise ways, we are all connected – as one humanity – and that so long as there is suffering in the world, we cannot sit down and rest, we cannot truly have 'happy peace'?

A GREAT GATHERING

Working with storytelling and creative imagination is a way of coming together, which is not based on political viewpoint, gender, status or nationality. In the weaving of speaking and listening, we access a common ground of humanity, sharing the earth and our stories in a universal language. This creates openings for the future, building relationship and trust, which is in fact the only base for friendly co-operation and peaceful co-existence. My conversation with Said Salama in 2007 that winter's night was one step in a long journey of creating spaces where this kind of working, thinking, being and listening can come in to the world between people.

Just two years before in 2005, I had taken the initiative to create the first international symposium in Sweden, Storytelling as a Healing Art. Little did I know I would find myself at the heart and head of a whole movement for the next many years, taking me out on new adventures, bringing me exciting challenges and many new friendships across the lands. Following on from a tradition begun at Emerson College in England during the 1990s by storyteller Ashley Ramsden and his associates, we were three people who prepared this grand and impossible enterprise of organizing a storytelling symposium. Grand, because the idea was wild beyond anything we could have imagined until then and impossible because practically no one in Scandinavia had heard of storytelling as a transformative method in human relationships. Way over the Atlantic sea another storytelling pioneer, Nancy Mellon, cheered us on with her vast experience of lighting the fire of healing story in human hearts, becoming a kind of godmother to our enterprise here in northern Europe. Against all odds, created out of nothing but our enthusiasm and our vision, the day arrived when 125 people from 25 countries streamed to the Culture House in Järna from all parts of the globe!

The word symposium comes from the Greek sym and posion, meaning to drink together. Certainly, that is the experience when telling and listening to myths, wonder tales, life stories and wisdom tales for days on end, expressed in a rich and living picture language that engages all our senses, speaking to the whole human being. In the end it does feel like one is drinking from the fountain of life, nourishing some deep source inside oneself.

Let me open the doors to what such a symposium can look like. People from all over the world came to Sweden: from Russia in the East to Nova Scotia in the West; from Argentina, Ireland and far away Indonesia. Two ladies took the Trans-Siberian railway, travelling four days and four nights from Irkutsk to Stockholm just to be with us. And when the week was over, they made the long journey back again to the eastern reaches of Russia, bearing with them story treasures and new friendships. Others again came strolling down the road, just five minutes from their home! Here were people from all walks of life with a variety of professions, who never would have met otherwise. What drew them all forth was a fascination and love for story and the call to delve deeper, to learn more about telling and listening from the heart in service of a greater whole and the inter-connection of all living beings. This was a practice in compassion and empathy and committing to our common humanity.

There were workshops and performances; we heard about practical ways of applying storytelling in areas such as education, social work, personal development, worklife, nature and religion. Storytellers from many different countries shared their experience and skills, delighting us all with the many exciting projects and positive results coming out of this work. Each evening we were served a feast of stories from the many cultures of the world and in moments of deep hush, we could at times experience how the wings of our greater belonging opened both our hearts and minds. People could be seen deep in conversation everywhere, around the dining room tables or out in the flowering park far into the summer nights, listening and speaking to each other with care. Many a chuckle and laughter rang out over the hedges and rose gardens surrounding the Culture House. Storytelling proved indeed to be a community-building activity across nationalities and cultures.

At the end of this first symposium all the 50 Scandinavians present formed the association Nordic ALBA Healing Story Alliance. Since then, Nordic ALBA has become a forum for those seeking to work with story in a transformational and healing way. We organize annual symposia, workshops, performances and meetings open to anybody and all interested in this particular way of working, creating and being together.

My own past is not that of a therapist or within healing environments. I am a theatre director by training and inclination and have worked with adult education and creativity all my life. I have always been interested in what I would call the social arts, where people gather to create or develop something together. Be it a play, a project or carrying the future of the community together. I am continuously mystified by the effect of creative activity on people. Not only for the individual, but also when it comes to interacting with others. Again and again I have seen how creative processes invigorate the sluggishness or stuckness that surrounds our inner spark. I have seen the flame of longing come to life and how the desire to live quickens again, as it begins its secret, inner, vibrant dance. This has a powerfully transforming effect. Whether it be on depression, loneliness or even physical illness. Or whether it be lack of self-worth, trust or a plenitude of fear. Working with the living, spoken word, formulating intent and giving voice to the vitality of imagery within and without, has an empowering effect on all involved. People light up and take hold of their lives again. Self-healing processes are set in motion. There is no healing without creative activity, these two go together. But how does it happen?

This mystery has drawn me all my life, having seen the transformation take place before my very eyes time and time again – including within myself, I must add. And so I have become interested in the how of teaching and working with people; whether it be in a play, at a workshop or during the training or telling of stories. This is, of course, a question of approach. Considering how to work with people leads you on to the questions: What are my intentions with this group of people or this individual? Why am I teaching at all? Why should they even want to listen to me? Looking at ethical aspects of one's work is very strengthening. I suggest you have a look at that as well, at some point. Maybe you already have, if you are holding this book in your hands. Another way of formulating it could be: What or who do I wish to serve with my work, my presence, my exercises?

People sometimes ask me whether this is therapy. Well, no – I wouldn't say so, not directly. But it does have therapeutic effects. The word healing is etymologically connected to whole and holy. Having a healing intention in one's work is about becoming more whole, becoming more of who we really are: letting the hidden parts step out in all their glory to see the light of day and the welcoming smiles of others. It is about becoming greater, larger inside, taking deeper breaths, inhabiting more of one's world and the possibilities it presents.

Let's have a look at an old legend from Poland.

Once, when both you and I and the world were young, there was a city where the fruits were juicier, the flowers smelt more divine and the birds sang more beautifully than any other place. The sun shone from a pristine blue sky and all the people who lived in this kingdom were happy. They were always kind and helpful to each other.

The King and Queen of this country were both just and good and well loved by all, so when, after many years of waiting, the Queen gave birth to a little girl, the joy of the people knew no bounds. The little royal baby shone like the sun and soon became everybody's darling. They adored her, they were proud of her and in time she grew up to be a beautiful young Princess.

Time passed – was it long, was it short, nobody remembers – but one day when the people in the city woke up in the morning, the sun was covered by a misty fog. After some days had passed, they realized that this was no ordinary fog, it was too dark and persistent, hanging low. Actually, it looked more like smoke. Where did it come from? Maybe it had been there for a while and no one had noticed. Maybe it came suddenly. But now it hid the sun and a dusky gloom spread over the capital city. The air became cooler, the birds stopped singing. People became sour and crabby, flaring up at the slightest thing and everywhere arguments could be heard. Many important meetings were held, but all they did was fight and bicker. All friendship and kindness was gone, as if it never had been there.

Day followed day and it got darker and darker and finally the sun was almost completely hidden behind black billowing clouds of smoke. It was almost as dark by day as it was by night. The King sent out his scouts beyond the city walls to find out what was going on, where the smoke was coming from. He eagerly awaited their return. But the days passed and they never came back. He decided to send out a battalion of soldiers to look for the scouts and further investigate what was going on, but again days passed and not a word was heard from his men, nor did they return. A sombre silence descended on the inhabitants of the city and after this, everyone stayed indoors. No one dared to go outside of the city walls.

Time passed and time again passed. The darkness got thicker. And as the sun couldn't shine or warm up the earth, nothing grew and no harvests came and soon it was that hunger gnawed at the stomachs of everyone in the city. A famine was upon them.

Finally news reached the city of what was happening. A terrible fire-spewing dragon had encircled the whole city with its huge body and refused to leave, unless it was given the beautiful Princess in exchange. When the King heard this he immediately proclaimed all over the land, that anyone who could save her and free the city from this ruthless dragon would marry the Princess and rule over the whole kingdom after his death. News spread fast and quick with the help of carrier pigeons, subterranean tunnels and blinking mirrors from city wall to mountain tops. Many brave men came from all corners of the kingdom. But when they discovered how huge and terrifying the dragon was and when they heard its roars and saw the thick, black smoke engulfing the city, they all slid away in the mist and disappeared.

Finally, there was only one fortune seeker left ready to fight. It was a poor young man who neither had horse nor weapons. His name was George and his heart was full of courage, unswerving was his conviction, a fire burned in his breast. He wanted to save the beautiful Princess, she who was full of light and love.

Once, he had heard that only a sword forged with celestial iron could kill a real dragon and now he set off to find it. Where could he look for it? There was but little time left, for the dragon was threatening to destroy the whole city in a sea of flames if the Princess was not brought forward by the next day. Young George ran into the forest outside the city walls. He looked, he searched and he prayed. Then he whistled all he could and lo and behold, with a fluttering of wings, a white dove appeared before him.

"What do you want, young George?" cooed the dove.

In his great need George now understood all the languages of the animals and the many and wondrous signs of the natural world. When he looked up at the night sky, it was as if the stars themselves spoke to him.

"Oh white dove! Help me, please! Help me find the celestial iron so I can forge a sword," begged young George. "The shining Princess and the whole kingdom is in great danger. A dragon is threatening to devour her and all the people too."

"Ruu, ruuu. Ruu, ruuu!" cooed the dove. "Listen well George! Lie down under the big old oak tree this night and look you well to see where the stars fall. When day comes, that is where you will find the celestial iron."

George did exactly as the dove told him to. He lay down under an enormous oak tree and kept his eyes wide open. All night long there were many shooting stars falling towards earth and when dawn came he sought for the iron that had fallen from the skies, and he found it!

Now there was no time to waste. The impatient roarings of the dragon could be heard all through the countryside. Day had come. George ran like the wind, as fast as his legs could carry him and straight to the smithy. The fire was raging and the master blacksmith was ready. He hammered out the iron and forged it into a sword, sparks flying all around him. It was a most powerful sword made of celestial iron. With sword high in hand George ran on. The city gates were still far away and he heard how the growl and roar of the dragon got louder and louder through the fog. But he had to get there: the Princess was being taken out of the city and now he also heard the wailing and crying of all the people. Oh! It was too late!

At that moment the white dove appeared in front of him.

"Get up onto my back, George," cooed the dove and the young man was so astonished that he did exactly as the dove told him to. And lo and behold! The dove turned into a white horse, galloping with the speed of light towards the dragon. And as they sped along the horse spoke.

"One word of advice now, George. Don't look the dragon in the eye! Keep your eye on the Princess."

There was not a moment to spare. The dragon had already opened its mighty jaws and was about to devour the Princess in one huge mouthful when George came charging forth on his white horse. He swung his sword and with one powerful, well-directed stroke the sword from heaven destroyed the terrible monster.

Immediately, the dark smoky fog started to clear up. The sun's rays found their way through the smothering air and the birds started to sing. The warmth of the sun lit up the whole world again. The Princess was saved! And with her, all the people in the city and the whole of the kingdom.

You can well understand that young George was honoured and celebrated for his knightly courage and great daring. A magnificent feast was held and many speeches in his praise were given to him and to the courage of the beautiful Princess too. Hearts were glad and relieved that the terrible dragon was now vanquished for good. And in time, George married the beautiful and shining Princess.

And when the old King died, George inherited the throne and together with his Queen he ruled so wisely and justly that he was given the name St. George.

This ancient story about St. George and the Dragon could be interpreted literally as man being strong and woman being weak, and so forth. But it is of course not about that. Stories and myths can become misused when we project them out onto the world, where actual human beings are labelled good or bad, heroes or villains. I don't believe this is the way. Rather is it a case here of seeing how the source of life and love is held fast, imprisoned by the dragon in us, and it is about having a look at what it is that can free us up. Don't look the dragon in the eye is the wise counsel of the dove. Keep your eye on the Princess, on the light. What might happen if we look the dragon in the eye? We might drown in all the darkness there, endless seas of misery and pain, forgetting all about the rest of the picture, all the other possibilities in life.

Interestingly enough, many medieval statues and paintings of this moment of confrontation in the story show George pointing his lance or his sword downward at the dragon, keeping it at bay. But his head is up and his gaze is on the Princess further ahead, tied to a tree. By the way he stands, we feel that he knows exactly where the dragon is and how to keep it in its place, but he is not looking at the beast, he is intent on the beauty and light and love straight ahead. Another way of understanding this image could be that light and love are always present, whatever happens to you in your life. That can be very difficult to remember in overwhelming and challenging times. But if we lift our gaze and expand our horizons, we will not get mezmerized by the sea of suffering in the eyes of the 'dragon'.

The work described in this book is not about avoiding darkness, pain or suffering. On the contrary, storywork is an excellent and safe way of giving voice to the unnameable things in one's life. But we always work in the context of a greater story, trying to stay faithful to the shining sun of who we are deep inside. And of who the other is, deep down in the heart of things. It is a way of holding to the truth while the dragon – the suffering or the battles – find their rightful place in the wholeness of life. I like to say that storytelling in this context, with a healing intent, is about strengthening the Knight so he can take care of his own dragons. Or, strengthening the Knight, so she can take care of her own dragons. It is a building-up activity on many levels, as we shall see.

Many years ago I undertook some therapy, looking out over the landscape of my life, listening for deeper, sometimes elusive meanings hidden in it all. My therapist followed a method which at one point called for me to choose five people I had met in my life who had been difficult for me, had caused me pain or suffering or conflict. The idea was that by looking at each of these, I might glean from them hidden gifts or qualities by which these so-called negative people in my life had made me grow. The only thing was, I was pregnant at the time and life shone out of me and my womb in a most positive manner. I instinctively felt it would not be right to go in to very harsh and difficult experiences in my life, not for me and not for my unborn child. The therapist agreed. So instead, I decided to focus on five people in my life who had meant a lot to me and to whom I felt profoundly grateful. I spent five wonderful sessions describing these people and telling the story of what they meant to me. It was very powerful and affirming.

The interesting thing is that while I was allowing my love for all these people to flow – speaking about them, describing them and holding them close to my heart – I felt as though I was lighting a fire. The fire grew as I spoke and I warmed myself there. It felt good and true. The fire threw a circle of light around us and beyond it was the darkness. After some time, I noticed how dark it was at the edge of the light. Then, as I was speaking about the loved ones in my life I experienced how my appreciative words was like putting logs on a fire, I felt the warmth growing. Then I started to sense that the darkness was moving, like shadows. Suddenly, I felt and understood who was there in the darkness. They were the 'unheard ones', representing the sufferings and pain of my life, different shapes and forms drawn by the light and the warmth. I kept my attention on the task at hand, speaking of the loved ones, putting more logs on the fire. And all the while, the darkness increased around the light. Suddenly, I realized what they wanted. They all came closer because they were longing and hungry for love and light. The shadows were listening too and by my telling, I feel sure some transformation and healing happened. I didn't even have to look at them or work with them directly. I just let them all be there, at the edge of the fire.

And so it is when we tell stories, we don't know who comes to listen and what transforming happens. But wise it is to keep our eyes on the light, for that will carry us through safely.

HARVEY

At the end of the first storytelling symposium on the theme of Healing Story we all gathered for a final plenum and open space. At this point an elder from the United States of America, Harvey Rosenberg, rose to stand before our motley assembly of storytellers from all over the world.

"This is the first time I have flown to Europe and visited your countries. On my way over on the plane, I noticed how people are very negative towards my country. I was surprised. I didn't realize Europeans were so negative about the States. But I can understand it."

We all nodded knowingly to ourselves. It was the time of George Bush and the Iraq war. Then, from one moment to the next, in front of us all, Harvey Rosenberg went down on his knees and with his arms spread out wide opening his heart, he said very humbly:

"If we have done something wrong, I ask you: Forgive us!"

There was not a sound to be heard in the whole auditorium. It seemed as though everyone was holding their breath. What was this? And then, a certain feeling of embarassment came. The silence went on for a long moment, enough for everyone to feel hit. Then Harvey got up and continued in his quiet, simple way.

"I would like to ask you all to do something. Your thoughts are realities. Please remember, every time you think hateful or negative thoughts about George Bush, it will re-inforce his feeling and his experience that he is surrounded by aggressors. That there is a big war to be fought against hidden enemies, hidden evil. And what do you think that will make him do? Please, I ask you to think in a different way and more positively about George Bush and us Americans."

Harvey sat down. There was a stunned silence. I think we were all touched to the core in our Scandinavian and European besserwisser complacency, used to knowing it all and blaming, criticizing, hating and accusing people and situations far away from our daily lives. It was a sobering experience offered to us by one person from a far away country. Not the government as a body, but a small human being among many.

It was at that moment I realized, that healing processes for individuals and for society at large cannot happen without reconciliation and forgiveness. We have to make peace with our selves, with each other, with our lives and our foes – and with our Maker. All of these elements – people, stories, events – are players on the stage of our present life and constitute a wholeness of our being.

Well, you know how it is with insights and glimpses into answers to the mystery – they bring with them new quests and fields of operation! That is how I found myself a few years after this event on the telephone, talking to Said Salama and planning the next storytelling symposium, this time on the theme of peace. 100 participants from a wide array of countries came together and we heard of budding new initiatives, big and small, delightful and harrowing – all adventures showing us how storywork could help in difficult situations close to home and in larger contexts, thereby engendering a new culture of being and speaking between people. One thing that grew increasingly clear was the powerful bridge-building effects of storytelling. And what fantastic work storytellers are doing out of their own selves and their creative imaginations, called forth to do the impossible by this strange vocation in our times: To Be A Storyteller.

When the symposium was over, I was left with the feeling that this was just the beginning. Soon I became involved in a project to help people working with children and youth at risk to find a way of working together more effectively. Participants came from different government agencies such as the social services, police, the schools and child psychologists, all having different roles in relation to children or young people who risk being harmed or hurt. The problem was, and still is I believe, that each of these different groups of experts have different parameters they work from: different intentions and value systems with different language 'codes' and ways of being. The kind of formal language of authorities and government bodies is, as we know, rife with abstractions and concepts – just try and read your latest tax forms! Using these kinds of words when relating to a human child can be like a door closed in your face; they don't let you in to a genuine human encounter. Much time can be spent in meetings discussing what to do, whose responsibility it is and finding a way forward. Time passes and time passes, it can take a long time before decisions are made and action taken. In the meantime though, out there in the cold is the child, still suffering and not being helped, because the grown-ups are bickering about who does what and which is the best way.

Another way of co-operating and understanding each other was needed. With the backing of our Nordic ALBA association, I suggested a project which was to be a storytelling training. The idea was that participants would come from each of the four sectors, thus forming a teaching-learning group of social workers, policemen, teachers and psychologists. Through working together over time with storytelling, picture language and appreciative listening, a common ground could be found and in particular, a language which was common to all, grounded in our humanity. We worked with this project over two years, financed by the Ministry of Education. I called it The Child at Heart.

All the while, a seed was growing in me, a new question. What is the role of the storyteller in peace-bringing, peace-making situations? Do we have a task there? We are not therapists, we are not mediators, we are not CEOs, teachers or priests. We are storytellers. What can we contribute? I was convinced we could bring something vital and important, but what might that look like and what are our special abilities? Could they be named?

IN OLDEN DAYS

In olden days knowledge, healing and art were not separate, you did not have healing in one place and art in another and knowledge in a third place. They were all one. To the ancient centres like Delphi, Ephesos and Epidavros in Greece people came to be healed, transformed and gain insight. Here they partook in the great mysteries: the mystery of their own existence, their relation to the gods and their own suffering. Healing definitely was a matter of connecting to a greater wisdom, a whole that surrounds us and holds us in its creation.

In Epidavros you would find a temple where the ill were cared for. You would find an academy where knowledge reigned. And in the same area you would find an outdoor amphitheatre with space for 14,000 people in the audience. Patients treated by doctors and healers in the temples were taken to see the great dramas of human existence – tragedies and comedies – all performed on the stage of the amphitheatre against a backdrop of forested vales, mountainous crags and the huge dome of the sky. So skilled were the architects then, so knowledgeable about the connection between human physiology and the world of matter and space, that the acoustics still to this day are exceptional. If you stand on a certain spot in the middle of the stage and whisper your words, they can be heard all around the vast open-air theatre. The steps in the aisles leading downward to the stage are hewn at specific distances so that your steps measure out the rhythm of the hexameter (a metrical line of verse consisting of six feet). Movement and speaking were one. This must be where the term 'verse foot' originated and as such, gave rise to poetry's classical metre.

In choruses and dramatic gestures, the great stories of what it is to be a human being, the experience of life on earth and the workings of the deities were spread out before the audience in tableaux and through the power of the spoken word. Most important in the process was to go through catharsis, a cleansing of the soul by living through the actors and actions on the stage. This was believed to be greatly helpful to the healing process and it was made to happen through the art of drama and recitation. The actors were not actors in our sense of the word today. All actors were priests of the mysteries: to speak and recite the holy words of the human being and of creation was a reverential and powerful act. Those playing the roles were in service to something greater than themselves. The story, the audience and the healing of all. Lifting their hands and their voices to the skies, something greater than themselves streamed back in and fired those present.

Besides the care of the doctors and healers and the experience of catharsis as a cleansing of the soul, the patients were subjected to knowledge through the academy at Epidavros. Knowledge here is a euphemism for insight, which is also necessary for healing. I asked my teenage daughter the other day why she thought people became ill. She looked me straight in the eye and said with perfect poise and clarity: "It is because people come into an unbalance, they have done too much of one thing. The illness brings them back into balance again, into order and harmony." This seemed self-evident to her. I wish I could remember that when I myself am ill or in a difficult social situation!

For not only do individuals fall ill and find themselves in some kind of imbalance, groups too can be ill and need healing and transformation, for instance at home or in the workplace. And if we look further afield, we can see that whole countries or peoples can indeed be 'ill' or not functioning well. The question here is, what does story have to do with it?

ALBA PEACE PROJECT

Through a series of events, it came about that the ALBA Peace Project was formed. The idea had matured in me over some years and one day it leapt to life, when a friend appeared in my kitchen with a smile and a knowing glint in her eye. She waved a little notice she had cut out of the newspaper. A Swedish government agency called the Folke Bernadotte Academy was inviting proposals for peace and reconciliation projects with a view to funding them. Creative and unusual projects were especially welcome! Well, here was indeed an opportunity for us to go deeper and investigate our particular contribution as storytellers to the world at large. But I really wasn't sure at all whether anybody outside our own circles would understand what was so special and exciting about storytelling. In the end, I decided to go for it. With the encouragement of my storytelling friends, I brought pen to paper and formulated my ideas and thoughts into a practical research project: A group of people would investigate the specific skills and competencies of a storyteller in peace-making, peace-supporting situations. We would meet regularly over a full year, we would try out exercises, collect and tell stories and cases. We would reflect and listen to the potential, the tools and the knowledge which can arise out of working in a storytelling mode. In particular, we would formulate and name the uniqueness of a storytelling approach to peaceful co-existence and community.