I know my great grandfather was dirt poor, but the one story that’s been passed from generation to generation has nothing to do with the size of his bank account. Rather, it’s about the size of his heart, the depth of his compassion and the richness of his sense of humor.
It goes like this. Great Grandfather Max was a cobbler in a small village in Eastern Europe. One day, he looked up from his cobbler’s bench and found that one of his chickens had broken its leg. Max carried the bird inside to care for it.
If that was all, it would have been enough. But there’s more to the story: the stuff that makes for family legends. Because Max went straight back to his bench and built a custom-made boot for the chicken that enabled the chicken to walk again.
Every family, business and organization has its legends — and the stories we both remember and tell say a lot about what we value. Some people have what the philosophers call “a talent for meaning making.” And, in fact, research shows that individuals who routinely test out as the happiest and most resilient are not those with the most money, but rather those with the greatest capacity to make meaning in their lives.
Happily, this is an ability that can be learned. For instance, think about how you speak about the things that happen to you every day. Do you tend to pay more attention to the slights and complaints or to occasions for gratitude? Have you taken the time to think about your values or mission, providing context for the things you experience?
Do you challenge yourself to do interesting things or do you fall into humdrum routines?
Recently, as I wandered through the aisles of a department store looking for the perfect gift for my daughter’s twenty-fifth birthday, I suddenly found what I was looking for. It was a story. I left the store empty-handed and hurried home to reach for the antique Indian conch belt we had found in a dusty, old case in Taos many years ago during a family vacation. The belt was made of nickel, not silver, but the monetary value of the belt had never mattered to any of us.
When Jody opened her birthday present and realized we were giving her “the family belt,” she delightedly told the story of the tumultuous lightening storm that had taken place that day. Holding hands, we’d ducked into the shop for shelter. Together, we’d spied the unexpected treasure, which was now a priceless reminder of our family’s legacy: life is full of adventure, love and surprises. Now it is one of the stories our daughter tells, too, and will someday pass along to her own children and grandchildren.
Everybody loves a really good story, whether it’s about dodging lightening or making a boot for a disabled chicken. Our stories provide templates for our lives, showing us and those yet to come the way to a life fulfilling its potential for meaning. What kind of story do you want your life to be? Do tell!



Thanks for pointing out that it is not the $ value of something but the memories it keeps for us.
anir
we are storytellers
Carol
What a wonderful way of putting it – meaning making.
It made me think of something I just wrote in the prologue to my soon to be published book (May)
I wrote – It is easy to look within painful memories and see only darkness, but having the courage to sift through the emotional debris is what allows us to discover the brilliance of our own sense of hope.
Living with a progressive disability all my life, I’ve always believe that “attitude” is my most valuable asset.
http://www.susanwheeleronline.ca
Cheers
Exquisitely put! What’s your book? (And congrats!)