Storytelling and mornings at the kitchen table

When I’m not traveling, I try to start my days by hanging with my family in the kitchen. That’s where all the action is in the mornings. And when it becomes too hectic in there, I typically retreat to my den with my computer and get on email. My wife, Tia, has the routine totally down in the mornings, and thankfully is the one who mostly gets the girls ready.

It’s hustle and bustle in our kitchen and sometimes it’s total Crazyland. It could be a fight over what she made them for breakfast, or the girls going at it with each other, or what they forgot to do the night before. And then there’s me:

“What do you guys have today?

“Nothing”

“Any tests?”

“No”

I’m just getting one word answers.

A beautiful, inspiring story

But this morning it was different. I was sitting off in my little “me” zone in the other room, going through my emails, when I heard Tia reading something to the girls. It was in a quiet, sweet tone, and was an article from Vogue, written by an American woman who went to Africa to adopt a child. This woman had written her entire story about becoming a parent; how she and her American husband went to Africa to adopt. It was all set; they had an infant ready for them, but when they got there, it turns out they were handed a brother and sister instead, 7 and 8 years old. At first they were all spun out, but ultimately decided to go ahead and adopt them both. And then the story goes on to chronicle their incredible struggles trying to bring their newly adopted two children to America. The children didn’t have Visas, and then they were in a fight with both governments. They had to stay in a motel for eight weeks. It went on to be an incredibly inspiring, beautiful story.

Tia was reading this story out loud, going in and out of crying, and Abby was lying down in her seat, completely mesmerized. She was all in. It wasn’t a short story, though — probably 10 minutes long. And to have her be that “in-tune” for that long is close to a miracle.

Digesting it all

After that, there was a little window for Tia and I to hang and we talked a little about her own adoption — she was adopted at birth. All in all, it was just really cool things that happened in my house this morning. It was by no means a typical morning.

It was just storytelling, and I’m in constantly in awe of it’s power. It was a wonderful reminder that we (I) don’t do enough of this.

And now I’m wondering what all of our family cycles would be like if we had more of this with our spouses…with our children.

And what would Corporate America be like if we created this culture of storytelling in the workplace? A culture of storytelling between salesperson and prospect? Storytelling between leader and employee? Maybe we could reduce the yelling, the hostility, all those negative “transactions” that occur everyday at the morning breakfast table.

A new friend of mine, someone who just went through a workshop, said something interesting to me, “If we, in the family unit had all this stuff in the home, with our children, we wouldn’t need Storyleaders as adults.” I get him.