Narrative Time Machines & The Future of Words by Simone Johnson
/Shades of Blue
I’ve decided to send you digital letters from now until the end of my Fellowship. I am slowly finding my grounding in this opportunity. I wish I could have hit the ground running when I first received this Fellowship, but I’ll be honest and say, besides the shock and ripples of the pandemic, last year was a passionate meandering, a quizzical walk lifting up rocks to see what I would find underneath, a hesitant and tired move forward, toward my authentic interests and mode of communication. 2019 and 2020 were a lot, I’m not sure I am in essay shape haha! I want to share more personally and intimately moving forward through short monthly letters that will still contain the information I would have shared in an essay or post format. Thanks again for taking time to read my writing.
Dear Reader,
Google storytelling workshops. No really, do it right now. What do you find? A lot of information! But I guess that’s the internet for you. I am actually really surprised by the plethora of information out there about storytelling, which tells me how integral stories are to existence. That sounds super philosophical, but there seems to be some truth to how important stories are for our survival, relationships, imagination and creativity.
Stories are everywhere. They may not be called “stories”, or look or sound or feel like what a story could be assumed to look, sound or feel like, but they are out there, in full force, very much alive with a life cycle or immortality of their own.
I’m really interested in words. The way my brain works is that I pick up on words and phrases that stand out to me. I like old words, new words, intriguing word combinations like Speculative Neuroscience or Oceanic Theorizing and odd word combinations. I want to know why some words are liked more than others, why some words like sustainability and resiliency are co-opted or outcast, how words, phrases and abbreviations change with the times (how do BIPOC people feel about the term BIPOC?), who makes words and phrases, and how they turn into portals one can walk through.
Of course, stories can happen in silence. Stories can happen in the in-between, in the barely perceptible, tango in the subtle, they can be loud as day, or subliminal; they can be bright reds and sassy greens, mysterious indigos, and music to our ears.
Right now I am focusing on researching the field of law called Earth Jurisprudence. I find myself feeling like I ought to share what I’m learning about policy and law, and I’m really passionate about #waterNOW and #waterfutures, but in the end, it’s examining stories that keeps coming up.
What is the future of stories and storytelling? Maybe it’s obvious but perhaps a large part of the revolution we’re experiencing now is connected to this question and how we experiment and practice answering this question. How are the stories we are weaving together and sharing impacting now and the future, and even the past? Inevitably I find myself in a majestic temple or cathedral I’ll call language, looking up at the high ceilings and marvelous stained glass windows, knowing this place has a strong stake in what happens in the next decade and beyond. The more conversations I’m part of, in art, science, technology, and agricultural spaces, the more I realize the role of language as a medium for world-making. But languages expressed through the body, energy, written word or verbalized aren’t simply tools, but worlds unto themselves, and when people from all walks of life converge, especially when talking about creating or changing culture, it’s bound to get messy.
Narrative Time Machines exist in my imagination as 1) some-kind of make-shift glass elevator that enables people to travel to a story along the time continuum (present-future-past). This means you could find yourself in a story in 1791 or enter a story that is being articulated in our current times and travel to potential futures connected to that story OR 2) a Narrative Time Machine is another way of interpreting the relationship between word play and world-making or energetics and world-making, or stories that make Possibility what it is, and how to shape stories in order to shape our field of possibility (what is possible in the next one to five to ten years?). What up #AffordableHousing What up #UniversalHealthcare What up #WaterFutures
What up ####
In Stories We Trust
I’m writing this the week thousands of people stormed the Capitol Building in Washington DC. The trajectory of how their naming in the media went fromTrump supporters to protestors to rioters to thugs to a mob, and included being named white supremacists, white nationalists, domestic terrorists and insurrectionists. Imagine the worlds that could emerge from these words. Flip the page or channel, or keep scrolling through your feed, and numerous news outlets (aka storytellers) are telling us the story of what went down. The rest of us listen, absorb, process and discuss it in one way or another; the story gains power. I read an article about the guy with his feet on Speaker of the House Nancy Pelosi’s desk; a news article described the photo as “iconic.” Damn, the power in that word . . . when a story is grounded and/or ascends into unprecedented, iconic and legendary.
It’s not the words’ fault how they are used to tell the tale. It's not “self-care” or “sustainability”’s fault that they were co-opted and now many folks don't want to use these words. In other words, I am trying to make the connection between words and how people can change their identities, define, validate and strengthen the word’s power and place or position in a society, and even give a word power and status, many times wielding it for a particular outcome or agenda. Can you think of any words like this? Can you think of any words and phrases that are literally pushing the edges to create new worlds? On social media the hashtag is also a tool of world-making, ushering words into our consciousness and conversation.
What is the future of Narrative Medicine? The Future is Now.
On another note, it's time to break out of harmful violent toxic stories. It’s time to break out of the story loops that take us nowhere and heal any misrepresentation and brainwashing. It’s time we let these harmful violent toxic stories die and welcome the birth of new-old life-giving, medicinal stories.
What does this even mean?
Seriously, how many times have you heard this question? What does that even mean?
“Opposing sides” hear the same thing.
The revolution is happening on “both sides”.
I’m not interested in losing my footing in the quicksand of what’s good or bad. I’m chasing curiosity here, about the role of words in world-making and the future of stories and narrative medicine, especially in a polarized country where the plot seems to be “us” vs “them.” And yes, I would like to (co)create seductive questions, questions that are encouraging, empowering, exciting, inspiring, and maybe even disagreeable, disorienting and shocking. I wonder what questions, especially those that are unexpected and people are afraid to ask, can cause a glitch in the system? This may be obvious, but maybe being in the heart of shaping our communities and wider world lies in the questions we are asking. But then I think of the spaces where our questions are being asked, and the spaces where our stories are being conjured and told. And suddenly I wonder if the space is a story too.
The only way for me to survive in this world is if I am connected to multiple and varying voices and perspectives.
What happens now?
Thanks for reading,
Simone