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I just spent about 20 minutes talking to my co-worker, Gregarious J. He's a talker (obviously), but mostly he comes by to talk about work, about policies and exceptions, how to manage his staff, and so on. Today, he came over to tell me about how he grew up running in the country, how he and his cousin were so fast that they could run through burning buildings and never catch fire (except one time when a burning board fell on his head, and he wore hats for three months, never telling anybody until long after his skin had healed and his hair mostly grown back), and how he (a pasty-white looking guy) joined the all-black fraternity in his college. Fascinating stuff, and this from a guy who I usually think of as friendly, but pretty dull.
That makes me think about story, and how critical it is for people to share stories with each other. How can you know someone if they won't tell you their story? How can you come to respect or care for anybody without that? So I wanted to thank you guys for sharing your stories with me, piece by piece, and for listening to mine. We won't ever know everything about each other, but every little bit helps. I love your stories. Please, keep talking.
That makes me think about story, and how critical it is for people to share stories with each other. How can you know someone if they won't tell you their story? How can you come to respect or care for anybody without that? So I wanted to thank you guys for sharing your stories with me, piece by piece, and for listening to mine. We won't ever know everything about each other, but every little bit helps. I love your stories. Please, keep talking.