Stories Are as Necessary to Us as Love

Ever since humans first noticed they were different from the other creatures, they (we) have been trying to figure out what specific quality sets us apart. Opposable thumbs? Awareness of self? Awareness of death? It can’t be; other creatures share, or at least seem to share those characteristics.

From the beginning, as humans huddled around the fire, they exchanged stories, and the best storytellers were revered. That is the one trait we humans alone have: the ability to tell and appreciate stories. Stories are our foundation, as necessary to us as love. Stories help us figure out who we are as individuals, and who we are as a people. Stories take us away from our problems, yet they also help us solve them.

We cry at the misfortunes of people we’ve never met, people who never were, people who seem more real to us at times than our own families. And we rejoice in the successes of those story people as if they were our own successes.

With all our sophistication and technology today, we haven’t come far from our primitive beginnings. Where once we huddled as a group around flickering fires, we now huddle singly before our flickering screens, but the need, the basic human need for stories is the same.

With the internet, we all have a chance to reach others with our vision of the world, with our interpretation of it.

There is satisfaction in that, though, to be honest, getting paid is even more satisfying.

Pat Bertram is the author of More Deaths Than One,  and A Spark of Heavenly Fire now available from Second Wind Publishing, LLC.

4 Comments

Filed under life, musings, Pat Bertram, writing

4 responses to “Stories Are as Necessary to Us as Love

  1. This is exactly the reason why I love to write and share stories–not for commercial purposes but rather for the joy of it.

  2. ceylanthewriter

    That was beautiful.

    Ceylan

  3. I agree – we really need our stories. For me the most pleasant memories are those when my grandmother gathered all us kids on long summer nights and told and retold tales

  4. I have only recently labeled myself a writer. What a freedom there is in my comfortable and self-made box!
    It has no sides, no definitive shape at all. Unless I want it to, that is. :o)
    It is expanding, contracting and imploding all at the same time…
    I have lived over 50 years and have finally found what I love~I love storytelling from the safety of my non-box, my world…
    Now I think I will spend the rest of my days finding out just how to tell these stories with color and texture, joy, sorrow, all of the stuff that defines who we are.
    What a joy!

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