Once Upon a Sacred Time

I’ve loved stories for as long as I can remember. At the ripe old age of five, I wrote my first piece of fiction...complete with characters, conflict, and a very dramatic ending (at least in my five-year-old mind). From there, I filled notebooks with stories, eventually filled floppy discs and hard drives with stories, and let my imagination run wild in worlds of my own making. Back then, it was mostly for fun. But somewhere along the way, storytelling became more than a hobby...it became a way of making sense of the world.

These days, I don’t spend as much time inventing fictional adventures as I once did, but my love for storytelling hasn’t faded. It’s just shifted. Now, I find myself drawn to the real stories...the ones that rise up around dinner tables, in hospital waiting rooms, during late-night walks with friends. I love sharing my own stories, hearing the stories of others, and passing on the wisdom I’ve stumbled across along the way. Because I’ve come to believe that storytelling isn’t just communication...it’s spiritual practice.

Studies on expressive writing and gratitude journaling show that when we put words to our experiences, our brains release dopamine and serotonin...the very chemicals that help regulate mood, calm anxiety, and increase our overall sense of well-being. It’s as if the act of telling our stories doesn’t just heal our hearts, it rewires our brains.

Spiritual traditions seem to have known this for some time. In Sikhism, daily recitation of poetry and storytelling is part of devotion, weaving beauty and truth together as an offering to God. In Christianity, testimony has always been central...ordinary people standing up and saying, “This is what God has done in my life,” turning lived experience into sacred witness. In Islam, the hadith...the stories of the Prophet Muhammad’s words and actions...are not just historical footnotes, but living guidance for how to walk with God. And in Zen Buddhism, storytelling often takes the form of koans: brief, puzzling narratives meant to crack open our ordinary thinking so that the divine can break through. Different traditions, but the same heartbeat: stories are a pathway to something outside of ourselves...something that is...sacred.  The truth is, religion doesn't have the corner on the "sacred" market.  Sacred is whatever we recognize as carrying deep meaning, worthy of honor and care, because it connects us to something bigger than ourselves.

So...try this out...share a story from your own life with someone you trust.  Not as small talk, not as performance, or even as therapy.  Share it like it was something...sacred...like a prayer, or a chant, or a meditation. Let it be simple. Let it be real. Trust that when you share your story, you’re not just talking...you’re stepping into something sacred...because you are.  And when someone listens? That, too, is sacred ground...because it is.  Oh...and if you are interested in sharing your story with me, please reach out.  I am not only fascinated with hearing it, I'm curious what would happen if we shared your story with the rest of the world.  (Or at least, Just Love - Greater New Orlean's little corner of it).

Storytelling is more than words...it’s communion...a deep experience of connection where people share themselves honestly, listen fully, and recognize their belonging to one another.  It’s a way of tuning into the frequency that hums through all our lives, reminding us that we’re connected, we’re seen, and we’re never as alone as we think.

Here for the stories that keep us human, and the ones still waiting to be told.

Sam