The Art of Storytelling

There are many ways to teach yogic and tantric philosophy. My preferred one is through storytelling.

Not only because it makes the students cuddle up like little children getting ready for bedtime reading, with that look of relaxed anticipation in their eyes. Not only because it makes the teachings enter the student through the listening heart, instead of through the grasping mind.

But because I honestly believe it is one of the most ancient and efficient ways to transmit esoteric teachings. Why else would all our ancestors have created, preserved and passed on stories generation after generation? Stories are part of our human legacy. While we might forget intellectual knowledge, we rarely forget a good story.

Still, there are stories that are more resilient than others. Stories that resonate so deep that they seem to speak to the very core of our being. We call those stories myths.

That word itself – myth – has gotten a bad reputation in some circles, as if it was referring to something that is not true. But the philosopher Synesius of Cyrene explained myths as events that never happened but always are. They are eternal stories, always taking place. Another way to say this would be that they are archetypical – meaning they represent a basic pattern in existence, which can be recognized inside and outside of ourselves.

Mythologist Joseph Campbell believed that myths serve four functions; 1) they inspire a sense of reverence 2) they explain the origin of the cosmos 3) they support the local order, and 4) they awaken individuals to their own potential, especially in the spiritual domain.

The last function is the one that is most relevant to us, as students and practitioners of yogic and tantric traditions. For us, myths offer a unique possibility to identify with the deities, to sense their trials and tribulations, and to eventually embody the wisdom qualities they represent.

What part of your body responds when you hear about how Hanumān remembered his great power only at the moment when it could be placed in service of the divine, in service of dharma? What awakens in you when you listen to the stories of goddess Durgā defeating the demons who have an exaggerated sense of me and mine? What inner alchemy is set in motion when you take in the myth about how goddess Lakṣmī was churned forth from the milky ocean, after years and years of effort?

I often tell my students that we never hear the same story twice. Just as we repeat so many yogic practices, whether mantra recitation or yoga āsana, we return to the stories, noticing that this time it had something else to teach you. Something you did not notice the first or second time, because you had not yet lived that part of the story.

Over time we start to recognize the patterns, we see the myths come alive around us.

And we understand that stories were never meant to be told just for entertainment. They were meant to transform us, to remind us, sometimes to carry us through.

That is their sacredness.

It is my greatest honor to invite you to sit with me, relax, and allow me to tell you a story that never grows old, because it is always happening.