A Kind of Beacon

One of my earliest memories is sitting in the kitchen with my mother, listening to stories on the radio. It was a Saturday morning, and one of my favourite times of the week. I’d sit there listening and I remember it as being sunny (aren’t all our happy memories set in a sun-dappled room?) as my mother would potter around, doing the adult things which seemed important for her to do: cooking, correcting essays, marking exams, organising the house.

As children, we learn so much about the world through stories, and my childhood was peppered with hundreds of stories. My mam used to read to me every single night. She would make up stories on the spot, and together we’d go on silly and wild adventures. And even though I do love getting lost in a good book, I’ve never lost the sheer joy of having someone tell you a story, and to sit back and listen, letting it wash over you, feeling every moment, visualising it as it happens, sharing it with the voice of the teller.

Sometimes our lives can seem like a long, meandering, sometimes meaningless series of fractured events. Stories help us to see patterns, meaning. To understand our story in relation to others. To find the bigger picture, to find meaning.

Storytelling is one of the most powerful tools we have as humans to connect with one another. There isn’t a culture in the world which doesn’t tell each other stories. Stories of battles won and lost, of love, and life, and death. A Lust for Life is a great example of people sharing their stories, providing that human connection – and how that helps so many others feel less afraid, less isolated, less alone.

I have always loved radio, ever since I was little, because of the intimate way in which people can tell their stories there. I remember listening to Gerry Ryan giving air to the stories of the nation – drawing people out, jumping from the deepest, heartfelt empathy to righteous anger to utter hilarity from day to day.

I discovered podcasts almost a decade ago, when I was going through a particularly introverted and introspective time in my life. The beauty of this medium, over and above what you get from traditional radio, is how long-form and niche these programmes could be. Free from the demands and limitations of radio which asks its makers to jump quickly to the next subject, lest listeners become bored; the podcast is free to allow stories to breathe, and evolve, and just be. You get to know the subjects of these stories, become intimately in tune with them, and hear them tell their own story, in their own voice, in their own time.

The first podcast I ever listened to was an episode of This American Life, called 24 hours at the Golden Apple. The show’s producers spent a full day and night at an all-American diner, and talked with ordinary people they met about what they were doing that day. This episode is so real, and raw, and personal – people from all walks of life – cops, waitresses, local kids… they all have their story to tell. Maybe these stories might seem mundane to the untrained ear – but the producers of This American Life have a way of weaving these seemingly banal daily experiences into something beautiful – profound – and full of pathos.

My most meaningful moments have been punctuated by podcasts I have listened to that day. The day I found out I was pregnant with my son, driving home from the shop where I went to buy a pregnancy test, I was listening to this beautiful story about a phone booth in Japan called The Wind Telephone where people travel to the booth to speak to their loved ones who have passed away, and I wept huge, salty tears for everyone who I had lost, and for everything I was about to gain.

When I lost my grandmother, travelling down to her funeral, I was listening to this episode of Invisibilia about what might happen if we could make fear disappear, and I felt the terror of the depth of sadness I felt melt away.

Another time in my life when I had very slowly fallen out of touch with a friend, and had to recognise the friendship may have ended, I listened to this episode of Heavyweight, about brothers in their 80s who had been estranged for decades, who met up to see if there was a relationship left to salvage.

The podcasts I listen to make me feel connected to people and their lives all over the world. They make me more empathetic, braver, kinder. I feel a deep sense of that old phrase ‘be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting some kind of battle’. Every day, on my journey to work, or out walking my dog, I’m listening to people pour their hearts out: sharing their dreams, their fears, their lives and their loves. I walk past an elderly man and wonder about his story. I see a small girl feeding the ducks and I imagine one day she’ll be telling her own daughter the story of the ugly duckling.

Whether you like to listen to audiobooks and podcasts, or prefer to read fantasy novels or fiction, or to watch your stories through film; the next time you are feeling alone, or lost, or like you have lost that sense of connection: try to turn to stories. Hear others on their journey. Walk a little in someone else’s shoes. It won’t cure your heartache, exhaustion, sadness or anger, but it might make you feel a little closer to our shared humanity.

“…these stories are a kind of beacon. By making stories full of empathy and amusement and the sheer pleasure of discovering the world, these writers reassert the fact that we live in a world where joy and empathy and pleasure are all around us, there for the noticing.” 
― Ira Glass, The New Kings of Nonfiction

If you are interested in some storytelling podcasts, here’s my top 5. And if you have never listened to a podcast and aren’t sure how, I highly recommend this video:

This American Life

The longest running, biggest and arguably best show on American Public Radio. They tackle big issues: race, politics, the economy, terrorism, inequality, social justice: through the lens of ordinary people’s lives.

Radiolab

Describes itself as “engaging audio explorations of scientific and philosophical questions” which “captivate listeners and bring to broadcast journalism a distinctive new aesthetic.” I wish my science teacher had recommended this to me when I was in school – this is an incredible way of bringing science to life through stories of people’s lives.

99 percent invisible

99 percent invisible’s motto is “always read the plaque”, and it is truly a ‘slow down and smell the roses’ kind of podcast. It’s about design: architecture, product design, cities, and in taking the time to admire the beautiful details in things we barely notice around us.

Invisibilia

Invisibilia is Latin for “the invisible things.” This show explores the invisible forces that shape human behavior — things like ideas, beliefs, assumptions and emotions.

Heavyweight

Heavyweight is a beautifully told journey into life’s regrets. Host Jonathan Goldstein meets people who have niggling or big regrets in their lives, and helps them to revisit the past to confront their unfinished business.