The other day, I fulfilled a plan to be recorded doing a reading for a Literacy Chicago fundraising event. It’s one of many organizations within the Chicago Literacy Alliance.

For a series of virtual happy hours, they plan to showcase authors and local politicians reading from their own work or from something that was inspirational to them. I decided to read a blog post from my collection, The Best of No Small Thing — Mindful Meditations.

Each post takes about five minutes to read, which is the perfect amount of time. I chose to read a post that I often include in my workshops or Practice Gratitude zoom classes, “Other People’s Lessons.”  It’s about being in a perpetual state of learning simply by being mindful. I am truly grateful for having this orientation.

As a way to introduce the recording, I was asked to share why literacy is important to me.

I was so happy that I was led to contemplate this.

Where would I be —  where would anyone be — without words?  Without words on paper?

My zoom session, my reading and conversation with the Director of Program Development, Joanne-Telser Frere, became a bit of a blur a few days after we connected. I think I shared these points. I hope so.

It’s hard for me to imagine life without experiencing, and being able to digest, words on paper.

This is a primary way people share their stories. Whether someone shares a story that was born of their imagination or compose a personal narrative from their life, I believe sharing stories is fundamental to what it means to be human.

I often like to relay this old Jewish proverb, “What’s truer than the truth?  The story.”

There is something about how a felt experience adds an important dimension to communications. Stories are always true to the extent that they’re felt.

A story not only wraps feelings around a sequence of facts or information, a story is a uniquely relatable construct. We all experience our lives, memorable events or aha moments, in a similar way. Everybody has their own stories. Sharing them affirms our own experience.

Stories captured in books or magazines are personal and healing. When I’m not feeling well, I might take to my bed for a few days and surround myself with a favorite volume of Rumi poetry or magazines that I would not normally read outside of a waiting room or store check-out line. Somehow, having this kind of escape or engagement within reach makes me feel better.

I’ve also been so impacted my practice of journaling. Yes, I use my laptop and programs for recording and formatting words, but at so many points in my life, I’ve started my day with a hot brew, a bound notebook, and a pen.

Writing things on paper, in a bound notebook, with a pen, involves my whole being. As ideas or thoughts tumble out, my body seems to tell me what is felt most deeply and authentically, what needs to be examined or elaborated on further — what I need to pay attention to.

Journaling is a standing date to make with yourself. Committing to spend time with your thoughts and feelings reminds you that your thoughts and feelings matter.

I like to read journal entries from time to time. This tells me a lot about where I have been and who I am becoming. In re-reading my own words on paper, I can see how I’ve changed and take note of what has remained constant.

Journaling and reading my thoughts help me make decisions. Writing down dreams, goals, or affirmations, even on index cards, seems to makes them more real.

Recognizing the value of words on paper is no small thing.