The Healing Power of Story

Recently I was lucky enough to attend a workshop put on by Dr. Rachel Remen, called "The Healing Power of Story: Opening to a Deeper Human Connection" -- held in beautiful Mill Valley, CA.

Attendees included all kinds of people in service professions: doctors, medical students, nurses, pastors, therapists, dentists, social workers, and teachers. It is no surprise that many of us value human connections in our lives and work. But what might be surprising is that many of us overlook the sheer power of telling stories about our lives -- and listening to those of others.

Medicine in particular seems to force us to adhere to interview protocols, with little time for veering outside those informatic lines into more personal, soulful areas. Yet these are often the very areas where healing is most needed. We also forget that what touches people (including us) is not data, but stories to which we can relate. Numbers can be important, but context and relatedness allow us both to feel and be moved.

One of the workshop exercises was to think of a disappointment in our lives, and to describe our emotional response to this with written adjectives. Then, we divided into pairs. We were to tell the story of this disappointment to our partner, with the partner attending carefully but not speaking or intervening.

What happened for me was profound.

I looked in the eyes of my partner, knowing only that she agreed to confidentiality about my story. I chose to tell about a loss that was nearly 20 years old -- it simply popped into my mind when Dr. Remen told shared the exercise. I did not realize the depth of my own emotion about this.

Within minutes my story flowed, and so did my tears. My partner said nothing, but her caring expression remained throughout. At the actual time of my loss, I had not been able to grieve this well -- mostly because of little support, feelings of shame, and need to keep working. Here, now, was opportunity -- but I had no idea where this would go. I had thought I was "done" with that. After all, it was nearly 20 years ago!

I wasn't. But, in the space of 15 minutes of being allowed to simply "be" as I was, my feelings shifted from anguish and pain to forgiveness and relief. The loss was still there, but somehow this could be part of my life rather than something walled-off from it. It became warm and gentle rather than cold and severe. Amazing process, this listening, telling, and being heard.

Of course I went into medicine to do this -- to attend quietly to the true selves of my patients. But having this done for me? It doesn't happen so often -- and I am very grateful. In a world where most managed care insurance limits time with physicians, the healing power of our listening is devalued. I appreciated re-experiencing how healing, how essential, and how powerful the act of simply listening can be.