Fireside storytelling is an ancient art form that I love to practice. No matter what has happened for better or worse in that day’s travails, the sensory experience of being around the fire – the smell, sights and sounds – helps set our hunter-gatherer psychology at ease: the fire is lit, we’ve enjoyed our food, now we are safe: let’s have a song!
Before I begin, I ask if folks would like to hear a story about how I became a wilderness guide. Then, in my grizzliest voice, I launch into it:
I was born in a mid-July snowstorm
Under Finger Foot Fang Falls
On the west bank of the River DuMoine.
My mom was evacuated on a float plan alone
While the locals shot rapids to bring her baby boy home.”
Firelit faces register surprise, delight, or a hint embarrassment (for me!), and sometimes disbelief, which, of course, is what this hyped up intro is going for. Next, I always remind them I’m from the suburbs.
I’m very proud of this spoken word piece, and grateful for the response it continues to elicit from my students, participants, and even friends of friends on social media.
I believe that we are indebted to the primordial inventors of the paddlecraft we continue to use: not only do the ancient body movements train our physiology, but the rhythmic beauty of the canoe and kayak soothes our soul in a similar way to the hearthfire.
If you agree, please help me share my gratitude by enjoying my video, and please tell a friend!
