Is that a Gun in your pocket....

OR A SNUB-NOSED IRRAWADDY DOLPHIN?


I saw a wonderful thing today. I saw something that re-enforced my belief in the power of the story!

There I was, bored, doing my ADDH exercises (extreme telly channel hopping), when my finger became suddenly cataleptic, my subconscious had found something intriguing.

It was a programme on the Animal Channel, Action Planet I think and it was half way through, but I got a little bit of info from the bar at the bottom of the screen so I stuck around to see what would happen.

My patience was rewarded.

The programme was about a team of people trying to bring the snub-nosed river dolphins back into the conscious awareness of the villagers around the river, in a bid to save this most endangered species.

There was a bit about the team not getting on – well humans do that – and some bickering, which was really not that attractive from an ambassadorial perspective.

But the main part was the fact they were in Cambodia, they did not really speak the language and their mission was to raise the awareness of the plight of the dolphins and make the villagers realise what they were about to lose.

How did they do it?

They did not preach at them. They did not shout and scream at them. They did not plead with them.
They put on a spectacle; they acted out a story, the legend of the snub-nose dolphins and how they came to be.

The surprise that the team got was the turnout for their ‘play’.

In a place with no television, radio or telephones the amount of people that turned up for this ‘entertainment’ was outstanding!

The risk was that they were using a very old and venerated tale and the older villagers would judge these foreigners on how they interpreted it.

Not only did they have the villagers in the audience, but all the local schools in the area closed for the morning so the children could attend and the local Buddhist monks were also a part of the audience.

It went down a treat, the children loved it, the monks seemed amused by the whole thing and the elders of the villages smiled kindly – all applauded at the end.

What’s the big deal? None of these people spoke the others language, there was a smattering of Cambodian during the play but that was really the only spoken words in the whole thing. By gesture and mime the story unfolded to an audience entranced and enraptured by the events taking place before them.

But the story, the story got through to them, to a new generation that now when they see the dolphins in the rivers remember the legend being told to them; of how the dolphins came to be and their connection with the villagers themselves and how sad would it be to lose that connection.

Keeping these thoughts in the minds of the villagers it is more likely they will think of the dolphins – and things may change..

Fables Flowing Fluidly Telling Timely Tales

What is a ‘fable’ and is that where the word fabulous comes from?

Is it a fairy tale or is it something different? What’s the point in it at all, what does it ultimately do?
Aesop, now there was a guy who knew his fables, or were they parables, and does that become com – parable?
Language is cool is it not?

So, when you’ve gone away and had a look at the fables of Aesop and quite a few others, (some of the Chinese ones are excellent), come back and ask the questions above again. What connections have you made since first reading the questions above?

Someone in my company recently asked what on earth I was doing fiddle arsing around at a story telling course, and how could I believe that in doing so it would make my therapeutic skills any better. In reply I asked another question, ‘when was the last time someone told you a leaning forward, ears fully open, eyes wide, hang on every nuance of word and movement, story?

They could not remember, and thinking of that – take it one step farther when was the last time you told a leaning forward, ears fully open, eyes wide, listener hanging onto every nuance of every word you say and every move you make, story?
Can you remember a time now when all your disbelief was suspended and time itself actually stopped; because the place that you were in had no clocks or watches, only talking goats and trolls and wolves and little girls with red hooded capes and bears that liked porridge?
Think of it now and tell me – do you recall being stressed at all? Do you remember all the things that the main character had to go through on their particular journeys?

I remember that they all had things in common. They were good and kind and used their skills and wits to get them to where they needed to go. They recognised the less than totally positive characters that dwelt within the story of their journey and dealt with them by using the resources that they had and they were not afraid to ask for help, nor were they afraid or too selfish to offer it to others; and in doing so gained a new perspective on taking things at face value and the needs of others being a strong indicator to their actions. That by positively treating someone differently to how they perceived they would be dealt with would make a change in their world to the extent that it would have a domino effect upon others they encounter, sometimes just by taking the time to tell a story…by telling your story…

Wondering how wonderful things could be if we all remembered how to tell our stories…makes me realise that magic happens, it happens all the time and we don’t even see it; we don’t look for it we look at our feet or over the shoulder of the person in front of us locked in our own prison towers behind great hedges of thorns. Suffering from the curse of amnesia we can’t remember how to make a happy ending – until someone reminds us, and we remember how to say ‘Once upon a time..’