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At the conclusion of the school's activities celebrating oral culture, we sat in the staffroom enjoying the elation a successful day of creativity elicits.  A teacher sat beside me and told me she had read the story of the Mermaid of Zennor eight times that day, once for each of the groups who visited her. A tale from her own cultural tradition and home country, it brought her great joy to be able to share it with the International school community. She confided in me that even though she knew the story well, she read it rather than told it, because the text gave her security. This was not the first time I had heard a teacher say this. The transition between reading a story and telling it can be a difficult one for many people to manage, and the reason for this is Fear. I said to her that if she told the story she would attain freedom. As we didn't have a lot of time to discuss what this means in depth, I will explain it now. 

Firstly it is important to differentiate between literary stories and oral stories. The former is meant to be read, the latter told. Folktales are essentially tales passed on from mouth to ear over many years. Because of war, disease, famine and displacement, many stories have died with the tellers. However, the advent and pervasiveness of the printing press and an interest in the collecting of folklore has enabled many stories to be recorded and printed, thereby available to the world to be read. Audio-visual technology plays an important role in continuing the documentation of folktales, particularly by members of the culture whose stories are being recorded.
Storytellers source their repertoire through either listening to other storytellers (both professional and those within their own communities) or reading folktales in books. A storyteller must consider both the prejudices and preferences of folklore collectors in written versions of folktales, especially those that were collected in previous centuries, and also their own relationship to the story. By relationship I mean that the storyteller may be intimate with the setting of the tale, familiar with the events described or know the traditions associated with its telling. What is often called 'owning the story' does not mean that the story is from your cultural tradition, although it could be, it means that you tell the story in your words, in your way and from your heart. This doesn't mean that you don't borrow some of the words from a written text or storyteller you love, because they best create the image you want to convey to your audience; all storytellers are guilty of some word or phrase appropriation. But the most authentic tellings are in your words. 
Now to forsaking the security of the written word in the pursuit of freedom. You can begin telling your tale with an acknowledgement of the written source as a version of the tale you know, and if listeners want to read the story, you can give them a reference. But follow on with an assertion like, 'this is the way I tell the tale.'  Or you can frame the story by explaining to your listeners your relationship to it.  For example, 'this tale was told to me by my mother, who was told it by her mother and her mother before that, and now I am telling it to you.' Or, 'this is a traditional tale from the first people to live in this country and if you live here then its important you know this story.' 
When I first started storytelling I thought that meant finding a written tale and memorising that version. Other people's words are easy to read but not to tell. No matter how many times I tried to remember the exact words of a story I was learning, I failed. Very few people learn a folktale word for word because this is not the natural way to pass a tale on to others. It is good to learn by heart any repeated rhymes and know the phrases you will use to begin and end a story, but the substance of the tale is easiest learnt by imaging, or making pictures of the story in a sequence in your mind, much like a film. The words which you use in your telling may not be as descriptive as those in a written version, but you won't have to wrestle with trying to retrieve those words from your memory, because they're your own words, describing simply and accurately what is happening in your pictures. The immediacy and directness of your account to your listeners will more than make up for literary devices used in a written work you are reading.  
Direct communication between storyteller and listener is the essence of storytelling, because it is an interactive process. The teller is guided by the  listener's engagement with the telling. Not having a book as an intermediary liberates the teller to use their whole being to tell the story.  They can modify their telling to suit the preferences of their listener rather than be restricted by the words on the page. Even the most expressive reader has to look at the text every few sentences, and therefore their eyes cannot always be looking at their listeners. Their hands are generally involved with book holding and page turning and therefore cannot be used to gesticulate. Reading done sitting or standing takes place in the one spot, so dramatic expression is limited to that area. However the most important difference between reading a story and telling it in your own words is that the tale's presentation, progression and resolution are in the hands of the teller. Therefore, the story becomes their story; shared with their listeners. This doesn't negate any acknowledgement of story sources, but defines the storyteller as the giver of the tale. 
Initially I said that Fear is what prevents people storytelling. What are people afraid of? I have heard many teachers say that they can tell a story to young children but not in front of colleagues or parents. Fear of criticism, judgement and ridicule by peers begins in childhood and often continues through into adulthood. We live in a world where humiliation is served up to us in the guise of entertainment. One has to be brave or desperate to volunteer any public performance, so choosing an empathetic audience is important. It is worth noting that in an educational environment the majority of parents and work colleagues are going to be supportive rather than antagonistic to your storytelling endeavours.  Fear of failure is another barrier to beginning storytellers. 'What if I forget what comes next in the story, what if I trip over my tongue, what if nobody listens? All of these fears can be addressed through good preparation and compassion. Generally your listeners will be understanding and forgiving if you make a 'mistake'. I have found children as a class, to be the most forgiving and generously spirited souls. The compassion you need to develop is towards yourself. If you find this difficult then imagine that you are a friend who is beginning storytelling. Are you going to demean or applaud her attempts as a storyteller? 
Now for that paradoxical fear; the fear of being listened to. 
When I first started storytelling I was in a character costume and I always told stories sitting down. There is nothing wrong with a sitting position for storytelling, if that is what is most appropriate for teller and listeners, and there's nothing wrong with adopting a storytelling persona. But I sat down because I was afraid of standing up and claiming the storyteller's space. I was in character because the storyteller was another separate identity, not really me. My fear was about being myself, and allowing others to see and hear me. 
I worked with a drama consultant on how to stand up and tell, but it took quite a few years to discard my fairy costume and become Morgan, the storyteller. The fact that much of my work was in an 'entertainment' capacity prolonged the fairy persona, however, when I did move into telling stories in the arenas of education and health promotion I felt that I was beginning to understand the real power of storytelling. 
Over the years people have asked me why I became a storyteller and I've responded with various answers about love of books, stories, performing, communicating with people etc. However these answers never seemed accurate or comprehensive enough. Until one day I had what is referred to as an 'aha moment'. I became a storyteller because I wanted to be heard! 
Once I understood this, it was as though a veil lifted from my eyes and I was able to see into my heart. Knowing what you are doing is one thing; knowing why you are doing it gives clarity to your purpose. It is also the best antidote for Fear. So what do I want people to hear? Stories of empowerment, compassion, tolerance and the celebration of community strength and diversity. Essentially the stories I tell have Love at their core. Traditional tales tell of love withheld, the desire for love, it's absence, it's expression and ultimately it's triumph. Love can conquer Fear. For me storytelling is a gift of Love.

Photo by Roman W. Schatz
Morgan performing on Folkways Day 2009, at the International School of Augsburg 

Filed under: fear

Cesc says...

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Filed under: fear

HikiCulture says...

Here's a recluse/hikikomori survey I've created using PollDaddy:

Click here to take the survey.

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HikiCulture says...

Click on this text to go to poll.

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szabcsee says...

A Video from Tim Ferris at TED Talk

Filed under: fear

 

Fearless Flyer Nikki

Today I flew down to Sydney in a 767 for lunch AGAIN!!!!

This time I had a friend with me. This is what teachers call: Level 2 competency learning where the student completes a task with only partial assistance.

Now onto 'chemical assistance' - while I don't condone the use of tranquilisers in facing ones fears as I have had personal experience in how addictive they can be - I have enlisted the guidance and counsel of my doctor to show me how to use them in the most effective way without pulling the tiger's tail.

I feel that given everything I learned in the Fearless Flyers course and flying drug free for the first time in twenty years bears credence to the value in doing the course - however (yes Madalyn - I can hear you tsk tsk-ing right now) but in my case I feel that given I experience a literal 'asthma of the nerves' as my long ago psychologist put it - I feel that the use of these drugs for a limited timeframe will aid in my recovery as it takes the edge off the experience that is now becoming more and more familiar. I aim in time to reduce my reliance on tranquilisers in-flight over time.

Right now though,  I am sticking to a regime of I have a crutch that just helps me get through. My confidence with each flight is building and I have felt a definite shift in my recovery on a scale of 1-100 - I started at -5, then after the first fearless flight it moved to 35, to my trip to Sydney it moved to 85 given I was tranquilised. Now just because you read 'tranquilisers', let me hasten to add here, that you must not make the assumption that tranquilisers will just fix fear straight off the bat.  I have been practising Madalyn's relaxation twice a day PLUS I have been rereading her booklet, reviewing Feel the Fear and Do it Anyway by Susan Jeffers PLUS Dr Burns The Feeling Good Hand book - especially the chapter on how to deal with fears by testing them using a variety of techniques.

Keep a record of your Panic Attacks to see how long they last Time: 0-99 rating: Thoughts:

* The experimental method
* Paradoxical technique
* Shame-attacking
* Confront your fears
  - sudden exposure or flooding 
  - gradual exposure
  - the partnership
* Daily mood log
* The cost benefit analysis
* Positive imaging
* Distraction
* The acceptance paradox
* Gettin in touch

All these and more I have been practicing - I am so focussed on eradicating this fear I feel that in time, and that is key, in time, I will feel more comfortable about flying. It is like a muscle - it has to be developed - it doesn't happen overnight, but it will happen - that much is a certainty. The road ain't easy but it had brought so many gifts and raised my consciousness in an almost spiritual sense if the word.

We had a fabulous day in Sydney - we hired a car and drove to Stanwell Tops in Sydneys Royal National Park. It was so hot up there but while we were driving through the back of beyond I felt the old panick start to arise - what if I hyperventilate and we are miles away from anywhere and suddenly I realised that I know what to do no matter what or where I am - it's OK!!!! I am OK!!!! Whoooooo!

I felt a surge of confidence and my spirit soared while the realization washed over me just how restrictive this fear had been for me and how I had receded from all spheres of my life that I really used to enjoy, especially that which feeds my soul -being on nature - this, nature, is what feeds my life essence, my mana, my spirit, my energy. Whooooohoooo! I feel so fu_king ALIVE!

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Alpha says...

Filed under: fear

Japo says...

Will you wait to be backed into a corner while fighting for your life to really be the person you are inside?

I've been watching Band of Brothers recently and I've seen the men fight side by siderisking life and limb to protect themselves, their families, and their country.


They get shot one by one andstill the group moves forward.
They get crippled one by one and still the group moves forward.
They DIE one by one and still the group moves forward.

Their Brothers are getting killed one by one so they fight harder. Why? Because they can stop the killing.


I ask myself, "Do people really need a war to be the heroes that they are?"


If you think about it, right now we are all fighting for our lives. We are also fighting for the lives of our loved ones. The only difference between wartime and peacetime is the Urgency of Survival.

Since we don't have any rifles aimed at us we take it easy and say "I'll start my success tomorrow."

We delay and delay till there's NO TIME LEFT.


But suppose we take that urgency and put it into our life today.

HOW MUCH will it affect the path of your future?
HOW SOON will you get to your goal?

HOW SOON will you be the HERO that you are?

What about RIGHT NOW?


How will it feel to be a HERO?

The Create Abundance Community was established to push you into your best. We know you want to achieve your dreams. We know that you want to take your destiny into your hands. We know that you want to be UNSTOPPABLE, and the Community is here to EMPOWER YOU.

The time to become a HERO is NOW.

Contact me on how you can start becoming a hero.

____________

.:GYD:. Grab Your Dreams
This blog is an original composition. The blog or any portion of it may not be reposted or copied without the owner's permission.
Japo Domingo, 09172594804


_____________

for more inspiration and motivation please visit http://ca2020.net
please indicate that you were invited by "Japo Domingo" for quick approval.

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HikiCulture says...

Here's a link to a great famous article about the hikikomori phenomenon:

http://www.nytimes.com/2006/01/15/magazine/15japanese.html?ei=5090&en=7a1fdac3eb790b32&ex=1294981200&partner=rssuserland&emc=rss&pagewanted=all

Filed under: Fear

Milly says...

 

I am the youngest of three sisters. Ann was born first, in 1974, two years after my parents had married. Two years later Amy was born, completing the family. Or so my parents thought. In 1978, little Emily was born - their ‘little accident’. 

 

For the first 10 years I have mostly happy memories. My parents were loving. My sisters were - well, they were what sisters are! Wonderful, fun companions who were also total pains in the bum! We got along and argued in spurts. 

 

But while I was loved and secure, I was also intensely shy and fearful. I didn’t believe anyone really liked me. I was very quiet, especially in school, where I felt on the outside of everything, and completely alone. At the time I would not have been able to put it into words, nor even know that there was anything unusual in the way I felt. 

 

I have struggled with a fear of rejection for most my adult life. In the past few years God has revealed to me that it’s source is in that innocent little phrase of my parents. Though I never doubted they loved me, when they told me I was an accident, somewhere in my childish brain it registered as I wasn’t meant to be there, and if I wanted to stay I had better behave. Over time I came to believe that no-one really wanted me, and any mistake, and imperfection on my part would lead to immediate rejection. I was so afraid of getting it wrong - anything wrong - that at any moment my family or friends would realise that they really didn’t want me around - that I stayed quiet and self contained. That way I could reduce the risk of making a mistake. If I didn’t speak - I couldn’t say the wrong thing. If I didn’t join in the games, I couldn’t make a mistake by winning or getting the rules wrong. 

 

Of course, kids don’t realise these types of things. Instead of making me safer, the quieter I was, the more I became a target for bullies. And their apparent dislike of me just confirmed in me that I wasn’t likeable - that there was nothing remotely loveable about me, and that if I only existed by accident, I was tolerated only on sufferance.

 

My parents were not Christians, but both had had Christian teaching in their childhood, and had, for reasons I’ve never fully understood, decided to send their three girls to Sunday School. So each week we were sent off to the local Gospel Hall where we were taught Bible stories and sung songs of worship. It was fun and I never questioned why we went without them. 

 

When I was ten my world changed. 

 

I began having really bad dreams. Perhaps you would call them nightmares. Mostly they centered around a fear of dying. I was suddenly aware of mortality. But the dreams were also about rejection. I remember one dream vividly - in it my mum had had another baby, but my parents were split up, divorcing. I could see my dad, with Ann and Amy, walking up the street towards our house; on the otherside of the road, with my mum and a pram with the new baby, I walked away from him and our house. The sense of separation was severe and painful, and I woke up crying. 

 

After that dream I remembered what they had told us in Sunday school - that if we believed in Jesus we would never die. I was afraid of dying, and the dream of my parents had upset me alot; so I figured if Jesus could save me so that I would never die then it was worth giving it a go. I told Jesus I believed in him and wanted him to save me. 

 

Immediately my bad dreams stopped, and while my fears of rejection didn’t disappear, I did find a security. I knew that Jesus loved me. Not only that, but Jesus knew absolutely everything about me - therefore he couldn’t suddenly discover that actually I was an accident and not meant to be here! He already knew, and he still loved me! He wouldn’t be shocked to discover the times I was naughty or made mistakes - he knew about them too and still he loved me! Here finally was one person I could totally trust, to never reject me, never stop loving me. Here, in Jesus, I learnt security and unconditional love. I trusted him completely, as I had never trusted anyone. And I knew his love for me in a deep way, a way I can’t put into words. None of this was rational thought - it was simply a deep knowing in my centre, of love and security. Only years later would I understand what Jesus had done for me. 

 

It seems, as I look back, that that summer of my 10th birthday was the last moment of peace in our family. After that, the days went dark. I didn’t tell anyone I was a Christian for another 5 years. Not many months after my decision to follow Jesus  my  mother suffered her second mental-breakdown (her first having taken place just after her marriage); we moved house to get away from abusive neighbours; I changed schools, starting high school, which was not a good experience for me; my sisters were growing up, going through teenage years of transformation, and relationships were strained. Later there was complete relationship breakdown between my mum and Ann, while Amy became increasingly angry with the world.

 

What perfect timing from God, that I should understand his love for me, just as the world got a little bit more crazy. I am so grateful for his amazing love! 

 

My idea that I was unloveable hadn’t gone away, and over time grew worse till I really disliked myself intensely. I still had few friends and continued to be bullied. I know that throughout the next ten years it was God holding me close, protecting me, that prevented me from going down blacker paths. Whenever I reached such low points I would hold on to him, as the anchor in the storm. No matter what the rest of the world thought of me, or how I perceived it - he was always there. 

 

I finally told my family I was a Christian when I was 15 and in hospital, recently diagnosed with cancer. After that point I started going to a local church, having Christian fellowship for the first time and getting regular teaching. I began to grow and mature as a Christian at last, beginning to understand what before had been mere instinct and response to Jesus. Over the years since then he has continued to love me and to lead me into deeper relationship with him. And lovingly, gently, he has whispered to me that the thoughts that I am unloveable, only a moment away from rejection at any time, are lies. These lies have controlled me for 30 years now. But I am confident that Christ has one the victory in my life, and in him I can be free from the lies, eventually. His love has brought me this far. He has given me identity, purpose and security. I know that  soon I will also be completely free. 

 

Filed under: fear