Inertia — Nº167
What matters in life is not what happens to you but what you remember and how you remember it.
— Gabriel García márquez
History tells the story of how humans articulate their memory. It can end up with one, two, or hundreds of versions of the same event—all seen through the lens of many eyes.
It can get misconstrued. That’s why it’s important to have your own version—to know what stands out in your life’s memories, to know what is true and what is important to tell. Was it when you protected your sister from a man threatening to harm her? Was it the first time you stole food from a store? Was it telling your first lie? Your first day of school? Your last?
What happened in your history, and why was it special? Who played a part in your memory? What lead up to it? What did you learn? How did things change? How did you change? Why should anyone remember this story?
When I was younger, blankets of snow once engulfed the route between my home and school. Usually, this was one of the most exciting times; school would close, and we’d all have the day off. I sat by the radio in the early morning, eager to hear my school’s name called out as closed. I also listened out for my mother’s phone in case they called. Nothing.
Oh…
I strung my bag over my shoulder and just about made it to school. But the snow only got more aggressive, and a few hours later, my school made the announcement we were all waiting for.
The problem? Buses were now barely running, and after 45 minutes or so of waiting, a few friends and I made probably the most radical but inevitable decision we had made back then. We chose to walk the 2-hour (likely more) journey home. You might think we lost the plot—and you’d be forgiven; we could barely see 100 metres ahead—but it turned out to be so fun and freeing. I felt tonnes of relief when I got home, yes, but it’s a story I’ll never forget.
I learned a lot that day, which is why it’s stuck with me and why it’s an enjoyable story to tell. It creates laughs and vivid pictures. It brought a lot out of me and shaped a small part of this thing we call life. And it brings me to the point Gabriel G. M. is trying to make: what matters in life is your story, and that you tell it with a strong point of view and details to support your version of it.
My love for storytelling trails back to when I was a small kid drawing several stories in one big picture in my little notebook. I still have it hidden in my room, sharing an aura to help me keep telling more. In different ways, we are a collection of memories, questions, and experiences. Some are more direct than others. And it all means we should care about being good conversationalists and storytellers. Why? Because that’s what we all do, all the time.
To persuade anyone—as a friend, founder, marketer or politician—you have to earn attention and trust. Your influence scales with how well you tell stories and how interesting you choose to be.
Think about a teacher you once had who cared deeply about a subject you thought would be boring—but persuaded you to care about it, too. For example, I had a maths teacher who sang, a computer class teacher who gave life advice, and a PE teacher who helped me fall in love with cycling. As Eliot Peper said, you can be interesting by simply being interested.
So when it comes to what matters in your life, tell it. Tell your life. Don’t be afraid, timid, or hold back. It’s one of life’s greatest gifts to tell a story. I owe my memory to the many stories others tell, because it makes a difference in my life to hear them. I also like to appropriately retell stories because it teaches you to put your faith in yourself to do it well, and you learn that the best stories go beyond the words you tell.
Memories are best preserved as stories, and there is no wisdom without good stories to learn from.