The Hidden Depths of Little Stories

“To see a world in a grain of sand
And heaven in a wild flower,
Hold infinity in the palm of your hand
And eternity in a hour.”
William Blake
We’re fascinated by the little things in life. I’ve always found it amazing that people can paint and draw on grains of rice and grains of sand.

And people love to look at nature and see patterns, a face in a cloud, or a cliff face, or tiny shell on a beach.
We’re always looking for meaning for the world around us and for our lives. So we hunt down patterns which become our stories.
The patterns and powerful stories of our lives come from a series of stand out moments, that we remember, and recall without thinking.
However, we have been challenged with our media rich world and have started to belittle our own stories, thinking those of others are far greater and far more important; whether it is fiction or fact.
But it is the little moments of our lives strung together than have us identify our purpose. It really is quite simple when we give ourselves the moment to stop and look, without judgement and without comparison.
Countless times clients and friends have said to me; “Oh I don’t really have much to say about myself. Nothing very exciting has happened to me.” And then on further investigation and given the time and space to talk, these people have revealed the most captivating and compelling stories about themselves.
They are surprised, and often also say: “I don’t talk about that because I didn’t think it was very important.”
There are macro events in our lives that form us, tragedies around death, danger, fear. But equally and more frequently, there are little micro moments where we are touched or moved by others or a happening. It might be the funny words used by a toddler learning to talk. It might be a simple expression of love, where a little gift is shared, or an exchange of words or touches.
To see and gather these little stories requires some stillness, and to observe people and our world around us. To grow our instinct and our intuition that our observations of the little things are what really matters.

Keep It Complex, Cretin!

The best stories get you thinking. And that’s usually because they are not simply black and white. They leave you with something to work out; a dilemma, a problem that gets you pondering.

Sadly a lot of stories in our news media, our film industry and our television world, don’t do audiences the honour of leaving something for people to work out.

Some new research shows from a visual point of view, dumbing things down destroys development. In fact it shows that visually difficult images can actually aid comprehension.

Albert Einstein said everything should be made as simple as possible, but not simpler; “we can’t solve problems by using the same kind of thinking we used when we created them.”

Likewise, John F. Kennedy once said “we go to the moon not because it’s easy, but because it’s difficult.”

When I hear people trot out the aphorism, Keep It Simple Stupid, it annoys me. Often it is not honouring of the audience. Don’t get me wrong, I think we should always work hard to achieve clarity in all communication, but there is a difference between clarity, simplicity and dumbing down.

I think it is time to share stories that have complexity and depth, that stimulate reflection and actions. The greatest stories are about journeys between dark and light, failure and success. Characters in great stories are faced with choices and dilemmas, and sorting through complexity. Stories need a KICC more than they need a KISS.

The Loud Stories of a Mime

Actions speak a thousand times louder than words when miming.

I watched an awesome mime busking on Auckland’s waterfront last week.

He had a special talent for creating story out of nothing, and working with his audience.

His brilliance was working with young children. He grabbed young members of the audience and had them take part in his story creation. He built a story in front of us, based on the reactions of the children.

One child was only just walking, maybe 18 months old. He was obviously intrigued with the miming and was fearless in his interactions. The mime teased the little boy; squirted water at him, caught him a fishing net, threatened him with a giant boxing glove, and played with a ball with him. They were very simple actions, but compelling and funny. The little boy was fearless and only briefly got upset when he could not keep the ball.

The crowd was entranced. I was amazed. We have become so accustomed to sophisticated tricks, with lots of bells and whistles. But this guy’s props were minimal, and he created a story on the spot, with the simple actions of small children.

Another trick involved having children take part in a trick that involved creating a drum roll, and a human wall that he was apparently going to leap. The setting up of the trick became the story, as he arranged the children, and mimed what he wanted them to do. Every time some one misunderstood an instruction became part of the gag. He slowly builds anticipation in the trick. In the end he never leapt, but gently pushed the kids over like human dominoes.

He took risks, he did things that in another context might be inappropriate, but did them with grace and balance.

His actions, in another context would be meaningless and boring, but he held the audience in his hand, through his courage to be engrossed with the people with him, and build a performance out of natural actions.

Story at it’s most powerful is very simple and based on very human experience, often just twists on the very everyday things we all do and see.

Stories That Last

We all have stories we will remember all our lives. Without question. So what makes them stick?

There are always some juxtapositions, some sharp angles that have a story stay with us for good.

Time and place, and the depth and breadth of the content.

Time and place is about a moment. Great storytellers can create moment through being present, and clear, with a focus 100 percent on their audience.

The content will have actions, goals, and interactions between characters and the world around them. There is detailed scientific research now that shows these elements are what lands a story throughout different centres of the brain.

The X factor is whether a story ‘rings true.’ This is it’s resonance. I have been on a 10 day silent meditation retreat several times. Each morning starts with a gong. Once I took on the responsibility of ringing the gong. There was a well worn thick length of wood to do the job. When you hit the gong just right, the ringing pulsed, and felt. It felt perfect and aligned, like hitting the sweet spot with a golf club. My listening was so acute in the silence that I could hear the ringing fade in ever decreasing waves for ages. I could feel this right throughout my body. It had rung true. It’s impression was lasting. A great story does the same.

I just spent several amazing days in Arnhemland, in the Australian outback. We sat and reflected amongst 10 thousand year old rock drawings on caves; possibly some of the oldest art on the planet. The pictures told stories, that have lasted countless generations. They were very simple; about people and places, and those things that matter as much today as ever; food and shelter. Simple stories, beautiful images, probably not made to last, but created in a moment to powerfully connect with an audience.
//www.youtube.com/get_player

Short and Sweet



When I worked in a university I used to crack jokes about the PhD academics.

I’d say they were lost to the world, delving so deep into the their specialty they could only talk, think, and act in a way that didn’t much relate to the day to day world. They were lost in space.

But there were a few, a very few, who would rise above the verbiage and diatribe of their speciality, and become wise, and in fact succinct.

I used to admire those people, because at the essence of any specialty or expertise, is clarity and simplicity.

So too when it comes to stories and language. It is the simple things we remember.

It is the proverbs, the one liners, the quotes from writers, poets, leaders and experts, and song writers.

We have so so much information today we get lost. So it is no wonder that we are developing more and more forms of what I am calling MicroMacro Media.

Twitter, texts, You Tube Clips, and Sound Bites, One Minute Films.



Masters of MicroMacro Media tell short but deep stories.

There is an art and a science to telling stories in a short space of time.

The science shows us that great stories, and they can be very very short, hit our brains on at least three levels, in a primal way, an emotional way and an intellectual way. That’s why we remember them.

The art is in the love of the telling; the quelling of the ego, the play and the courage to leave stuff out.

Short and sweet.

Templates, Boilerplates and Smashed Plates

When I left mainstream journalism and public relations, I tried to stop being cynical and sarcastic. My children always hated it when I was ‘sarckie’, and nasty with words. It came naturally.

So I’ve largely eradicated my cynical side, and hopefully replaced it with discernment, and critical analysis.

But I am only human and there are some things that really get my goat! (Really funny expression that with no clear origin, strange how I end up using it)

And it’s cliches and jargon that make me snort. I came across a new one in PR yesterday. Boilerplates for media releases.

Ok so now we move from templates, to boilerplates, and the difference is???? And who cares???

And this got me to thinking about how often I now hear talk about templates and frameworks. It is almost obsessive.

I find myself using these terms endlessly in business.

” We need to set up a template.” ” We have to get the framework in place.”

Ok so this is the need for order in a complex world, I get that.

But what goes inside the templates, boilerplates and frameworks ?

My point is, particularly in communication, is that there is no depth. There are superficial statements about frameworks and templates with very little substance.

No patina. No backstory. Just a proforma template like plastic boxes on a production line.

Apparently a boilerplate is stock standard language that doesn’t get changed. It comes from the anal world of legal contracts.



Now I find myself hearing the same professionals rolling out templates, boilerplates and frameworks, say in the same breathe: Content is King!

So who is doing the content?

Where is the compelling story? I like the image of a Greek Wedding with Smashed Plates. Drama, story, excitement, engagement, content.

Great content is about contrast, juxtaposition, some drama. Smash it up, mash it up, so we don’t have to snore through boilerplates, templates and frameworks with no ‘guts’.

Walking Talking Stories


My main form of exercise is walking the dog. I really resent it sometimes, especially if the dog has been doing a real stand over at home, in my face, throwing the lead across the floor in my direction etc. Not subtle.

But over the last couple of years I’ve started to really appreciate the space, some thinking and reflecting time and some much needed exercise. There is even a Canine Charter for Human Health

But that’s not really my point. Walking the dog does something to my synapses, my mind starts to think differently, making links, connections, creating ideas.

Yesterday I conducted a mentoring session on the phone while walking the dog. It had a flow, that I am sure if I had recorded would be a very interesting set of stories. The dog walking helped the process hugely.

I have a friend who sometimes comes and walks the dog with me, and we have a mentoring session on route.

When I was a radio journalist I used to interview farmers for a programme. They were shy men often. The best way we found to interview as to walk across the farm, side by side, rather than me confronting them with the microphone.

Being on the move helps generate great stories.

Its a great antidote to sitting in front of a blank screen, stuck in our head.

Story, Breastfeeding and Sex

Researchers are continuing to plug away at working out why stories are so powerful.

They are finding a range of reasons why stories stick, from the fact that they trigger some primal impulses through to nailing what sort of hormones are stimulated when we listen to or read or see a story.

Jessica Marshall, writing in her blog, Empress of the Global Universe talks about the research of Paul Zak from Claremont Graduate University, California. He thinks the key story hormone, thinks the key hormone is oxytocin, produced during feel-good encounters such as breastfeeding and sex.

As a pioneer in oxytocin research, Zak has developed various ways to stimulate its release, including orchestrating situations where the subject of his experiment is trusted by a stranger. But the most potent so far is an emotionally charged story.

“Of all the stimuli we’ve developed that release oxytocin, this one was the best,” says Zak.

Getting volunteers to watch a 5-minute video telling the story of a 4-year-old boy with terminal brain cancer increased oxytocin levels by an average of 47 % compared with others who saw an emotionally neutral film about the same boy going to the zoo (Annals of the New York Academy of Sciences, vol 1167, p 182).

“People were very engaged in the movie,’ he says. “The change in oxytocin correlated with their degree of empathy.”

Many indigenous people have long known that oral traditions and stories are fundamental to education and survival. But some how the western world relegated story to a pass-time. Now scientists are taking an interest in story, perhaps it will start to become taken more seriously in the mainstream arenas of business, government and leadership around the world.

The Good and Bad of Stories

I’ve been observing a lot lately the different meaning people have for the word story.
For some, they immediately default to childhood and think of storybooks and fantasy; kids fiction.
Others immediately think of adult orientated fiction; tall tales that are not true.
Yet again, others hear stories as being lies, false realities.
And still others believe stories are engineered narratives that people have hidden motives for telling.
It’s all a bit of a shame really because it gives the art and science of great stories a bit of a bad rap. On one level they can be dismissed as frivolous, on another they can be considered malevolent.
However, over time, stories have been humanity’s richest form of communication. What stays the distance with anyone in life other than a story that has been a learning experience that has added immense value to an individual or community.
I am now starting to clearly distinguish stories for myself and others that have a purpose and powerful intention, rather than a throw away piece of gossip. If we pause to think, and trust our intuition, we do know the difference.
More than ever before in human history, we have an endless supply of stories via multiple media. Our challenge is to be discerning, to sift the wheat from the chaff. Now that is a capacity that is both a challenge and a necessity to develop.
Many say our younger generations are media savvy and also ‘spot a fake’ in an instance. This well may be so, but we have to build a capacity to act on our intuition, to learn to trust stories and narratives that have been created with a clear and honest intention, versus those developed to achieve a manipulated result to benefit one or two.

There’s Always Something Going On

I work with a lot of leaders and organisations that often hesitate before communicating. They are worried about the risks. Publicly voicing a point of view will inevitable attract some opposing points of view. And this goes for inside and outside an organisation.

We’ve all become pretty risk averse when it comes to communication these days. Many people with an outspoken point of view, exhibiting too much emotion or passion, can often be shot down. Like wise, there is often a desire to keep communication on a safe and even keel. It’s no wonder we frequently here people say: ” No, no, don’t go there!” Or ” No, no, too much information!” We are averse to getting into any potentially dangerous communication where emotions might ignite.

The thing is, there is always something being communicated. There is no such thing as a communication vacuum. Our beautiful little brains are always making up some story or other about what is going on around us.

So I urge anyone in leadership, anyone who is part of an organisation or a community, to step up and say what needs to be said. Work to make sure people know what is going on. Work to tell the truth, and not shy from what might be uncomfortable.

Every story we have ever heard and remembered and valued, had powerful juxtapositions that make up a journey, failure and success, happiness and sadness, light and dark.

So great communication will ‘go there’ and engage people in stories that canvas the ups and downs of life, the ups and downs of business, of leadership, of community.