I love people that are able to talk about their life stories. When I was small – remember me sitting quiet and listening to the “stories of grown-ups”, being very touched by the point that what I was listening it was real. Not a book, not a thought out story. It was something for real, told through the own way of seeing the world, life. With own thoughts and own words. Maybe I just jumped too fast between more experienced than me people and didn’t have what to tell on my own, but most of the time I remember myself just shutting up and listening. Listening and reflecting.
During selling in my shop, I spent more time listening to people than selling. There is something very fascinating in the way how honest the people accept themselves and are aware of their life without following only the perfect side of it.
People tend to follow perfections. Perfect looking people, perfect made actions, perfect works or perfect lives. It is easy to follow perfections without asking yourself how many fails, destroyed things or nights without sleeping were invested in these perfections, taking just the result, not the process. And this is very human – sometimes people are enough tired of their own struggling and just want a break for brain without the need to know too much.
A lot of people react on self-stories as to something egocentric and narcissistic, but the story telling to me always appear as a very elegant question: “That’s my story, what’s your story?”. And you end asking yourself: “hmmm, what is my story in fact?”, making you reflect on own life, in same time through others stories getting belief and breaking the limits of own borders of life perception. And still keeping the right of the own choice, if to tell your own story or not.
And I guess this is the secret of curiosity – to live so, that your brain never gets so tired or the soul so disappointed that you stop asking yourself: what are their stories? And keep doing life stories in same time on your own…