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I am not sure if the reality is that some
of us are pre-selected to be story tellers out of some environmental need
through societal pressures. A world consciousness simply selects to slightly modify
the brain so that the world that it experiences is logged in the mind as stories.
Perhaps the occurrence of story tellers is smaller than that. An
explanation could be that on a personal scale simple home environment molds and modifies the brain into
a machinery that perceives and views the world as story lines and
character development. What ever the need or pressure that causes the teller of
tales to weave, be it muses, gifts, or talents, the urge for them great and small is to weave the
tale.
You see them at a coffee shop.
Slowly a gathering draws themselves around an urgency to hear and a demand for a
tale. There is the beginning; often the teller has no notion of where the story shall go
nor the meaning which will be attached a some later point. The
tale just begins and the story becomes a vehicle which drives
itself. You find them in print and in film. All small and grand attest to the need to weave,
whose incubus which they recall came with the use of words in a long ago
time called childhood.
Ah the story teller ... after language came to humans as a director
of gathering and hunting, it grew large and organized and
controlled people. The story teller came to bring balance to that world and
quietly remind people - where dictators ruled on the force of a
notion - that other notions can be had.
When they spin, these tellers of
tales spin near, and others far from what the initial budding of reality was
... but always the best of story tellers tell a truth that otherwise may not be
mentioned by the populace of the time ... and out of the tale each
listener finds a direction in their heart to act on the truths the
weaver tells.
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