The Agony Of Bearing An Untold Story

The untold story:  That scenario that plays over and over in our psyche,  the questions it silently poses, the different resolutions we imagine.  Most of the time this has a negative, scratchy emotion attached to it.

This is not the untold story I am talking about.  We have plenty of that all around us.  From CSI to “reality” TV, you can get your portion at any time, anywhere.

The agony I am talking about is the neglect of the story residing in the ordinary moments.  Those which cultivate pleasant feelings. Ignoring the articulation of these moments leaves space to be filled whatever rushes in, sweeping away the soft, the nurturing and quietly powerful.

I am not talking about pretending that the messy and unpleasant does not visit regularly.  I am proposing to give voice to that which would be otherwise shouted down.

I suppose it is a form of gratitude, to pull out these kinds of stories.  To choose to dig out and cultivate a story otherwise untold.  It says to the story, and the people in them , “I am thankful for you”.  “This is worthy of being told to others.”

My father was a master at capturing these kinds of stories.  The letter to the left is just one example of many published in The Writings Of HANCOCK. 

This short letter story. packed with memories, served to dissolve agony in the midst of grief over his passing.   The telling of the story did that.

I am sure at the time he wrote it, this was not on his mind. It was a simple letter documenting some moments within a moment – a 20 mile drive home.

The point is, the story does not have to be long, or even grand to have purpose.  To make an impact.

Zora Neale Hurston, said it this way:

“Perhaps, it is just as well to be rash and foolish for a while. If writers were too wise, perhaps no books would be written at all.  It might be better to ask yourself “Why?” afterwards than before. Anyway, the force from somewhere in Space which commands you to write in the first place, gives you no choice. You take up the pen when you are told, and write what is commanded. There is no agony like bearing an untold story inside you.