I want you to learn Spell Casting

In anticipation of the wild year ahead

My primary purpose has been pretty clear to me for the past few years: distribute powerful skills to the change-makers who need them most.

What hasn’t been as clear is HOW to do that. Or rather, how to do that more broadly. I am fulfilling this mission in teaching classes to kids, in training teachers and local leaders, with inspiring posts, podcasts and public keynotes. It is happening, for sure.

AND, I still feel the urgency to get these tools to as many people as possible in the shortest amount of time.

I say all this because I think the next 12 months are going to be rocky. Tumultuous at a minimum. The upcoming presidential election is a nexus point for a great deal of systemic unease. Regardless of who “wins”, we will have some extensive and complex work to do. It is a destiny year.

So I’ll be creating more posts like the following, where I am explicit about the skills, obvious about how I’m teaching them, and then offer clear next steps.

Let’s hit it.

My “lane” is storytelling.

This is what I practice, what I teach and what I write about. And yet, there is no mention of storytelling in the title. If the primary skills I have to offer are all connected to storytelling, then why all the wizard stuff?

Photo by Almos Bechtold on Unsplash

Quite simply: intentional storytelling IS about casting spells. Literally. I am not being cute or metaphoric. Whatever you imagine spell-casting to be, storytelling can do it.

Most dictionaries define spell-casting as using words to have an effect on people.

The words often need to be spoken in a certain way to have maximum effect, which means the vocality—vocal tone—is intentional. Witches and wizards will say things to bring about rapid change. Whether it is to shift a behavior or bring illumination, or to set a transformation, they will speak out loud, tasting the words, being crisp and deliberate with every sound.

Intentional storytelling does the same thing.

Telling stories is how human beings understand the world. Even when explaining scientific discoveries, we tell stories in order to make sense of the data. It is simply how we are wired. And when we are intentional or targeted about the stories we tell, we can attract listeners and elegantly convince them to our point of view. If we add embodied vocality to the mix, we become irresistible.

As a storyteller, I am welcome everywhere. The moment people realize I am practiced at spinning tales, they invite me into their homes and trust me with their secrets. I am well aware of this power. It is actual magic. It is spell-casting.

Many politicians know this, and brand managers definitely do. Anyone who wants to sell something knows the most effective way to get people to input their credit card is to tell a story.

Photo by Heather Mount on Unsplash

So why are so many well-meaning change-makers who wish to make the world a better place so ineffective with their storytelling?

I believe it is because they don’t know how to properly cast spells.

I see it over and over again: smart, well informed and experienced people dumfounded that people won’t listen to them. They have the facts. They have the proof. They have science and good sense, and yet, people are more interested in the other side.

Why?

It might be because of spell casting.

Wizards believe that their spells work. They are utterly confident. They cast the spells with flavor and zest and with an authentic connection to the task at hand. Yes, they might be entertaining—but I don’t believe that is the source of their power.

Wizards transform reality because the room is theirs.

They are completely present. They pay attention. They are embodied and enjoy the sound of their own voice. They only say what they need to, and don’t waste their breath on arguments or repartee or cleverness.

Effective storytellers don’t need to make sense. They don’t need to be accurate. They don’t need to have the facts or the best lines. In order to shift a behavior or bring illumination, or to set a transformation, a storyteller might try this instead:

1. Be where you are. Authentic presence is captivating.

2. See things as they are rather as you think they should be. People love to be seen and heard, and without judgement.

3. Believe what you are saying. Feel it in your heart. Know it is true.

4. Taste your words. Feel the vibration of your voice in your throat. It brings you into contact with the true power of sound.

It sounds like a tall order but it really isn’t. You used to do this all the time. When we were kids, the world was new and we could easily access wonder and awe. We enjoyed making sounds and talking merely for the pleasure of talking. We were utterly present with whatever we were doing, and we believed everything we said, even when we were blatantly lying. We had the skills, just lacked the content and experience.

Photo by Priscilla Du Preez 🇨🇦 on Unsplash

I want to be clear that I don’t advocate replacing smarts with charisma. I don’t think facts should be buried, nor do I think coherent arguments have no purpose. But I do want people to know that we are wired for story. We are built to pay attention to good storytellers. We can’t help ourselves.

So if you want to make the world a better place, consider working on your storytelling. Play around with sound. Experiment with gesture. Notice what it feels like when you enter a room. Take a moment to attend the listener before speaking. Consider letting go of the plan and being open to the moment. The moment is magic. This is the home of the wizard.