Well, I didn't see that coming ..
Aug 31, 2016In the early 90's I went travelling in South East Asia and stayed on a beautiful island in a little hut right on the beach. It was paradise! Each day, my only real responsibility was to walk about a couple of miles to the local market, choose some fresh fish and a few vegetables and then walk back and cook my dinner in an electric wok!
For four months I did practically the same thing every day.
I’ve always been an animal lover, and most particularly a dog person! So it was very interesting to watch the behaviour each day of all the stray dogs that lived in packs up and down the beach. The pack that lived on my stretch of the beach were a motley crew indeed. There were the older dogs who were obviously the leaders (by older I mean maybe 2 years old at most, life expectancy was not good), and there were the playful puppies. All the travelling foreigners loved to feed the cute puppies, but no one really wanted to have anything to do with the older dogs or the tattered looking, mangy puppies.
One particular dog just out of puppyhood, was one that no one wanted to touch or feed. He was very timid and was bullied by the other dogs. There was something about this ‘underdog’ that made me want to be his cheerleader!
He didn’t trust any humans at all and so at first, I would throw a few bits of food in his general direction, and he would very cautiously eat them. But over the next week or so, he got to trust me more and more. Initially, I was in two minds as to whether I should befriend him, as I was not going to live here forever, and I wondered what he’d do after I left. But it was very quickly too late for that.
One day, I was sitting on my porch watching the dogs bark at outsider dogs passing through when it started raining. And in that part of the world, when it rains, my goodness does it rain!
I got up to go inside my hut and before I had taken two steps, the little oddball dog shot past me to take cover. It was at that point that I knew we were gonna be real friends, so I called him Morris!
Morris had hazel eyes and a loving kind of face, but he wasn’t really petting material. So I never touched him or stroked him, but we were close friends in our own way. I smiled at him and made him welcome. He came and went as he pleased. I tried to feed him up a bit but I always worried about what would happen to him after I left because he just didn’t seem to have what it took to survive as a stray pack dog.
Four months passed in no time and the sad day came when I needed to say good bye to Morris and went home.
Eight months later, I decided I needed another trip and stopped by the same island. Everything looked different. Commercialisation was spreading like wildfire. The roads had improved. Everything was more .. developed. I went back to the same little hut I had stayed in wondering if it was vacant.
Unfortunately it wasn’t .. but one just a little further along the beach was! I put my stuff inside and sat on the porch to watch the world go by.
After a few minutes a tattered looking, mangy adult dog walked up to me wagging its tail wildly. It was so much bigger but there was no mistaking, it was Morris! And Morris remembered me. But who was this very similar looking little puppy following him around I wondered? Maybe Morris is the Dad.
Then I realised that Morris wasn’t actually a boy dog at all .. Morris was a girl dog and this was her puppy! It was so heart-warming to see that Morris had got her life together and started a family! I was so proud!!
On one of my calls today, Lucy said ‘I can’t find points for my stories, so I’m pleased you said you’re gonna help us!’
‘Some stories, it is difficult to find points for Lucy’ I said, ‘and if you think about it, you don’t want just any point, you need a point that fits with what you want to say. So the best way to do that is work on lots of stories!’ Then I told her the story about Morris and said ‘I can’t find a point for it yet, but I like it!
‘I think it’s a story about unconditional love!’ Lucy said. 'Morris remembered you and was just pleased to see you again. No agenda, no where do you think you’ve been, just love.’
‘Great point!’ I said, ‘Thank you!’
Then John joined the queue and said ‘I think it’s a story about networking! Morris was building resources knowing she wanted to start a family!’
Then Stella joined in ‘I think it’s a story about you seeing the opportunity to help a dog that needed it, and then your kindness changed the trajectory of that dog’s life forever.’ she said.
As I thought about it and we laughed and chatted for a few minutes, it really became clear to me how universal stories are, because everyone sees them in their own way. Everyone projects onto them or takes from them in a unique way that matches their life experiences.
Stories can help in ways we don’t even understand or need to understand, and in ways that we can’t even explain.
I guess that’s why they’ve been used for so long by so many great communicators, some of whom have left an indelible print on mankind. Stories truly matter. Your stories matter too.
For four months I did practically the same thing every day.
I’ve always been an animal lover, and most particularly a dog person! So it was very interesting to watch the behaviour each day of all the stray dogs that lived in packs up and down the beach. The pack that lived on my stretch of the beach were a motley crew indeed. There were the older dogs who were obviously the leaders (by older I mean maybe 2 years old at most, life expectancy was not good), and there were the playful puppies. All the travelling foreigners loved to feed the cute puppies, but no one really wanted to have anything to do with the older dogs or the tattered looking, mangy puppies.
One particular dog just out of puppyhood, was one that no one wanted to touch or feed. He was very timid and was bullied by the other dogs. There was something about this ‘underdog’ that made me want to be his cheerleader!
He didn’t trust any humans at all and so at first, I would throw a few bits of food in his general direction, and he would very cautiously eat them. But over the next week or so, he got to trust me more and more. Initially, I was in two minds as to whether I should befriend him, as I was not going to live here forever, and I wondered what he’d do after I left. But it was very quickly too late for that.
One day, I was sitting on my porch watching the dogs bark at outsider dogs passing through when it started raining. And in that part of the world, when it rains, my goodness does it rain!
I got up to go inside my hut and before I had taken two steps, the little oddball dog shot past me to take cover. It was at that point that I knew we were gonna be real friends, so I called him Morris!
Morris had hazel eyes and a loving kind of face, but he wasn’t really petting material. So I never touched him or stroked him, but we were close friends in our own way. I smiled at him and made him welcome. He came and went as he pleased. I tried to feed him up a bit but I always worried about what would happen to him after I left because he just didn’t seem to have what it took to survive as a stray pack dog.
Four months passed in no time and the sad day came when I needed to say good bye to Morris and went home.
Eight months later, I decided I needed another trip and stopped by the same island. Everything looked different. Commercialisation was spreading like wildfire. The roads had improved. Everything was more .. developed. I went back to the same little hut I had stayed in wondering if it was vacant.
Unfortunately it wasn’t .. but one just a little further along the beach was! I put my stuff inside and sat on the porch to watch the world go by.
After a few minutes a tattered looking, mangy adult dog walked up to me wagging its tail wildly. It was so much bigger but there was no mistaking, it was Morris! And Morris remembered me. But who was this very similar looking little puppy following him around I wondered? Maybe Morris is the Dad.
Then I realised that Morris wasn’t actually a boy dog at all .. Morris was a girl dog and this was her puppy! It was so heart-warming to see that Morris had got her life together and started a family! I was so proud!!
On one of my calls today, Lucy said ‘I can’t find points for my stories, so I’m pleased you said you’re gonna help us!’
‘Some stories, it is difficult to find points for Lucy’ I said, ‘and if you think about it, you don’t want just any point, you need a point that fits with what you want to say. So the best way to do that is work on lots of stories!’ Then I told her the story about Morris and said ‘I can’t find a point for it yet, but I like it!
‘I think it’s a story about unconditional love!’ Lucy said. 'Morris remembered you and was just pleased to see you again. No agenda, no where do you think you’ve been, just love.’
‘Great point!’ I said, ‘Thank you!’
Then John joined the queue and said ‘I think it’s a story about networking! Morris was building resources knowing she wanted to start a family!’
Then Stella joined in ‘I think it’s a story about you seeing the opportunity to help a dog that needed it, and then your kindness changed the trajectory of that dog’s life forever.’ she said.
As I thought about it and we laughed and chatted for a few minutes, it really became clear to me how universal stories are, because everyone sees them in their own way. Everyone projects onto them or takes from them in a unique way that matches their life experiences.
Stories can help in ways we don’t even understand or need to understand, and in ways that we can’t even explain.
I guess that’s why they’ve been used for so long by so many great communicators, some of whom have left an indelible print on mankind. Stories truly matter. Your stories matter too.
Until next time ..
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