Press Play to hear this interview that was recorded as a conference call on March 4th at 8PM ET when I spoke with Mark Morey on the Art of Mentoring.

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Press Play to hear this interview that was recorded as a conference on 12/18/2007 with storyteller Michael J. Caduto talking about how stories are giving and receiving.

Michael J. Caduto writes…

I always start my storytelling performances by focusing on the circles and cycles that we share. Storytelling is a circle: a story needs someone to speak the words and a listener to imagine the story into being. This vital exchange breathes life into stories as they become animated in our mind’s eye. So the gift of storytelling is a mutual experience—an exchange of wisdom and a mindful act of creation.

There is also the circle of our gathering—of giving and receiving—in which everyone is arranged in a shape which symbolizes reciprocity and reminds us that we are all in balance. Whatever we share goes around between us all.

The circle is also a symbol our relationship of giving and receiving with the natural world. Everything in nature works in cycles. The basic principles of ecology and sustainable natural processes are based on exchanges of minerals, carbohydrates, genes, gases and other life-sustaining elements. Without this essential mutuality, ecosystems, and the life therein, could not survive. These are the cycles that we must live within in order to Continue Reading »

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Recorded on Tuesday the 24th of October - Fran is an amazing storyteller who will dazzle you with her narrative skill and storytelling heart!

Fran Stallings writes…

My main concern with this topic is the observation that many of our Environmental tales are DOWNERS. While our storytelling ancestors probably used them as Continue Reading »

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In this interview with the Reverend Victoria Burdick, M. Div Hospice Chaplain ~ Celebrant on August 7th, 2007, we discuss how storytelling can be used in wedding ceremonies to create the ceremony. We also discuss how storytelling is used in hospice work. The Reverend has officiated over five hundred weddings and is well sought after for her service because of her ability to represent the stories of both the bride and groom in the ceremony.

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Post written by Zayanne Thompson, Ellyce Cavanough and Kate Fox. These camp directors were interviewed on Tuesday June 5th, 2007 Missed the call? Don’t worry - you can listen right now by clicking the play button.

How have you used storytelling in camp settings?
Zay Thompson Answers - Stories are a natural for camps. Camps offers an opportunity to create a meaningful and memorable connection to the outdoor environment. Educational research suggests that this connection to the outdoors creates a highly charged environment that facilitates learning. This emotional value of the camp experience opens the gateway for Continue Reading »

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Post written by Manitonquat (Medicine Story) who was a Guest on the show on Tuesday April 24th at 7pm. Missed the call? Don’t worry - you can listen right now by clicking the play button.

Selections from the book RETURN TO CREATION, by Manitonquat (Medicine Story):

What we need to investigate and learn together is healing. In a time of great sickness nothing else should concern us. Healing the earth, healing society, healing our communities, healing ourselves. To paraphrase a saying, if we are not part of the medicine, we are part of the disease.
You have come to the circle which this book represents to hear me speak. Perhaps you wish to learn something about Native American healing from a medicine man. Maybe you wish to experience a healing yourself. Well, I hope you do learn something, and I hope you get in touch with the spirit of healing. I must tell you, however, that the healing power for you is only within you. A medicine person’s real job, whether it be with a ritual, with herbs, with steam or water, with song or dance or with story - whatever the medicine, the real work is to convince you of your own healing power. That is the healing power of Creation which is within each of us.
Sickness of any kind is a dissonance in the harmony of nature, a noisy intrusion into the Song of Creation. A certain amount of dissonance and conflict is expected and desirable. They are a spur to consciousness. Our most essential teachers are Continue Reading »

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The snow had fallen all along the street where we lived. A white blanket had covered the earth while we slept. My four year old brother ran up ahead of me towards the front step of our neighbor’s house, his yellow scarf flying behind him as he ran.
“Wait up,” I yelled, “wait for me.” That’s Max, I thought, always running everywhere. My father says that Max was born running and that it’s been my job ever since to keep up with him. My dad also says that’s what older brothers are for, to watch out for little brothers and sisters.
I looked up. Max was standing perfectly still. I stopped.
“Sam,” he said, “look.” His arm pointed towards a little birch tree.
A squirrel sat as if frozen in the snow looking back at my brother. Then in a burst of snow and noise the squirrel jumped up the tree alerting the whole neighborhood. My brother is good at seeing things even if he doesn’t talk much. His first word was “look”. Once he pointed out an owl sitting in a tree in our yard. I have never seen anything like it. My mother says that everyone has a gift. So when Max says “look”, I look.
Max ran on through the snow towards our neighbor’s front porch. I caught up with him by doing double time just as he pushed the door bell.
Max smiled and said, “Harley!”
“Don’t you boys have to be in school?” Mr. Bill Harley stood at the door of his house. Every day we come here on our way to school and he still acts surprised. His white hair, beard and mustache stood out against his black skin. Ex-Vietnam vet, ex-marine sergeant and ex-scuba diver instructor are all very impressive to anybody, but the most imposing thing about Mr. Bill Harley is that his eyes are completely white too. You see, Mr. Harley is blind. I never ask Mr. Harley how he was blinded. He isn’t the sort of man you ask those questions. He either told you or he didn’t.
Max smiled, “Harley.” He walked in. Mr. Harley was his best friend after all. Max gave Mr. Harley a leg hug. Mr. Harley patted him on the head.
“Nice to see you, too, Max. Both of you come in. I’ve been listening to the chickadees all morning. Chika-dee-dee-dee Chika-dee-dee-dee” Mr. Harley smiled and beckoned us in. “Take off your coats and come on in.” Mr. Harley didn’t use a cane in the house. The best part of Mr. Harley’s house was the smell. He has a home business cooking donuts and pastries to sell to hotels. My brother and I liked visiting Mr. Harley’s house.
Max cried, “Red bird, red bird.” and ran into Mr. Harley’s living room.
A huge glass window spread the length of the house. Outside sat three different types of bird feeders. Common birds of every shape and size were busy at the bird feeders while squirrels collected seeds that had fallen to the ground.
“What do you see, Sam?” Mr. Harley took a seat.
“Sam, do you see the cardinal I’ve been hearing all morning?” Mr. Harley made a gentle “Bur-dee, Bur-dee” with his mouth.
I said, “I don’t see it, do you, Max?”
Max was sitting very still and looking hard.
The three of us sat for half an hour as the old grandfather clock slowly ticked in the corner of the room. I described to Mr. Harley the way the birds swirled around the feeders. The colors and patterns of the different birds. He always knew their names and for each he could sing the song that the bird made.
Max jumped up, “Red birds, Red birds!”
The cardinals had returned. Five of the bright red male cardinals had arrived at the feeders.
Mr. Harley stood up and walked into the kitchen. “It’s time for you two to be getting to school. But before you go, you might want to take a little sample with you for the road.” He was holding to large jelly donuts.
“My mom is talking about getting a bird feeder of our own,” I told Mr. Harley as Max and I were putting on our coats and boots.
“I hope you still come to look with me at my feeder.” Said Mr. Harley looking suddenly sad.
“Of course,” I said. “But maybe the cardinal will come to our feeder as well.”
Mr. Harley smiled. I like to see him smile. “Just make sure you keep the bird feeder well stocked and never let it run out. It’s cruel to the birds if the feeder runs out in cold weather. Once you make a promise to a wild bird you must never break it.”
“Good-bye, Mr. Harley. See you next week.” I yelled over my shoulders. My brother was already running out the door.

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