The stories beyond the surface
During the past months, I have been part of an exclusive community full of exciting, like-minded people from all over the world. Our group is kept small on purpose – merely a dozen people – to inspire meaningful conversations rather than superficial online networking. As such, we have spent many an hour getting to know each other over Zoom calls and written exchanges, mainly focusing on the usual trivia: country of origin or residence, professional background, broader interests, family status, and, eventually, opinions on topics of mutual concern and thought-provoking discussions.
Months passed by, and background stories – initially concealed behind a veil of privacy – began to emerge. Some of them are tragic: a child’s suicide; a parent’s dementia; the death of a loved one; an incurable ailment. Others are inspiring: leaving one’s life behind to start anew in unknown lands; overcoming depression; exploring identities beyond the social norms; a life-changing focus on creativity. None of these stories monopolised the spotlight, seeking compassion or admiration. On the contrary, they were shared in hushed tones through the grapevine or were casually woven within larger narrations, taken for granted or perceived as just another part of life.
We don’t usually go around promoting the stories that shaped our lives. Instead, with a weird sense of protectiveness for the process that has moulded the quintessence of our character, we prefer to present a polished snapshot of ourselves, sticking to the light, palatable anecdotes that, in truth, reveal so little. And yet, it is those rarely told stories that hold us together.
Looking back, I realise how little I know of the individuals who form the community, despite the hours spent in discussions or the group’s small size. It is tough breaking through the complex shell each person has built around oneself, allegedly as protection against others but, mostly, as support for one’s own life. Overwhelmed with love for the fragility of our humanity, I find only tenderness in my heart for all those who are silently paving a lonely way towards meaning and peace. When their story has ripened and trust has been built, I will be ready to listen. Until then, there is nothing else to do but be generously kind. It seems little; yet, it is enough.
Photo credits: © Konstantina Sakellariou
