Summer’s end can be a wistful time, but I ended mine pretty spectacularly, with a bucket-list concert at Red Rocks amphitheater. (Oh, and a tattoo - but that is a story for another day.)
As Brandi Carlile sings, “These stories don’t mean anything, if you’ve got no one to tell them to.” I’m not sure I agree they “don’t mean anything,” but my experience tells me that stories gain power and momentum when they are shared.
Personal stories - via systematic journey interviews - have dominated my research recently. I just finished up work tracking and understanding the HVAC system purchase journey, and I am currently conducting interviews to understand the care journey of people who experience cardiac issues and cancer. In both cases, allowing and encouraging respondents to tell their stories in detail can provide clients with a helpful dual result: insight into the individual experience, which helps to humanize their work, and also into the common elements of the journey across interviews, which helps them to strategize effectively.
Yesterday I spoke with a young woman who experienced an unexpected cardiac event that led to job loss due to her extended sick time, and a resulting change in insurance coverage in the midst of two necessary surgeries. Her medical history was unknown because she had been adopted as a child, adding to her challenge managing this event. Her exhaustion was palpable, and she alluded to mental health concerns that arose and went untreated during the most intense weeks and months of this situation. It was clear that no medical professional understood the weight of her experience during this time. As the moderator, I felt honored to give her the space to tell this story, to shed some tears, and to be heard.
Moments like these remind me that clients aren’t the only ones who benefit from personal stories. These moments make me a better human by requiring me to listen without solving, and - I hope - also provide some release for individuals who are burdened by whatever is going on in their lives.