When the story isn’t enough

I often focus on authenticity—telling a story in a way that reveals something authentic about your place in the world. So much of our interactions these days seem contrived to provoke a particular response, crafted to manipulate the audience or to disguise the truth in something more palatable. Story gives us a tool to expose the difficult truths while providing a context that allows the audience to integrate those truths into their experience. Story prevents painful realities from becoming trauma.

But what about when you don’t have that kind of perspective? What about when you don’t want to show up at all? Master storyteller Diane Wolkstein tells us that in order to tell a story, we have to know why we’re telling this particular story to this particular audience at this particular moment. What if we just don’t know?

This is a scary moment for a writer or performer. The page is blank, the audience is staring up at us, and we feel like we just don’t have it. But anyone with experience doing creative work has faced this reality.

What do you do?

Most people fake it. You don’t have to acknowledge whatever is getting in the way of you being able to show up. You hide behind the story instead of expressing your vulnerability through it. Most likely, no one will even notice. We have become numb to people in positions of authority faking it.

However, if you’ve been working hard to be more authentic, to really connect with your audience, and you find yourself slipping back into faking it, it can feel terrible. You’re doing the exact thing that you had hoped to give up. It feels like going backwards in the worst way.

There are other options.

Sometimes you just know this is the wrong story. You don’t want to look anyone in the eye. It just feels wrong. This is an opportunity for you to acknowledge the situation.

It might look something like this:

I know that I’m supposed to get up here and tell you all an inspiring story about triumph in the face of adversity. But I’m not feeling that way today. I’m genuinely scared, and I know that you all are too.

Once you say this, there’s no turning back. You’ve acknowledged what’s really going on. You have made an authentic connection with the audience. You have their attention. They want to go with you wherever you take them, if you have a story to tell.

So what story do you tell?

You can find a new story, the story you really want to tell today. It might be the story of getting up in the morning and making it there to talk to them. It might be a smaller story than you had planned to tell.

Or you might find your way back to the same story you had planned to tell from the beginning. Sometimes, once you acknowledge what’s in the way, you’re able to tell the story that seemed empty and worthless before. It suddenly seems full of life and meaning. What you’re really doing is letting the story carry you instead of you carrying the story. You rely on the story to provide what you need. The story will inspire you as well as the audience, and you just get out of the way. This often works, but it’s tricky because it can look just like faking it.

But you know the difference. Are you able to make eye contact? Do you feel any connection to the audience? Rely on the story, and it may take all of you there.

Faking connection can be more painful than never reaching out for connection at all. Loneliness is much worse in a crowded room than at home alone. When you feel yourself going through the motions of storytelling, stop yourself. Consider what it would take to make an authentic connection in that moment.