The Power of Story

We don’t think in facts.

We live in stories. Stories shape our memories, beliefs, and future.

They hold power—not because they’re true, but because we believe them.

In this issue, we dive into how stories run your life… and how to take the pen back.

What the Brain Does with Story

I've heard stories that changed my life. Not because someone taught me a lesson. But because they lived it—and let me see inside.

Their pain. Their joy. Their moment of truth.

And for a long time, I didn’t share mine. I don’t know why.

Shame? Fear? Habit? But I’ve learned something: Stories heal both ways. When you share with others—you connect with them. And when others meet you there—you meet yourself.

There’s a name for this: Neural Coupling.

When you hear a story:

• Your language center lights up

• Your sensory and emotional areas join in

• Your motor cortex activates as if it’s you in the story.

Your brain doesn’t just hear a story. It experiences it.

This is why stories stick. And why you forget a tip—but remember a tale. Neuroscientists found storytelling triggers:

• Cortisol (focus)

• Dopamine (reward)

• Oxytocin (bonding)

A good story grabs you. Holds you. Changes you. Without effort. Without force.

Watch what happens when you share:

• A vulnerable insight

• A praise-worthy win

• A confusing moment

• A hard-earned lesson

You’re not “posting.” You’re creating a door.

A passage from your heart into someone else’s life.

Your Content doesn't have to be clever. They have to be real. Because real makes people feel. And feelings build memory. Facts fade. Stories don’t.

Your past holds more than pain. It holds light. When you share what hurt, what healed, what helped.

You give others a torch to see by.

• Your smallest mistake might be their great escape

• Your old confusion might be their new clarity

The story of your life is not a diary entry. It’s a map. Others are walking

Your content:

• Lessons from failure

• Quantum leaps of growth

• Small moments of discomfort

• Breakdowns before breakthroughs

They're not just your experiences → They're bridges into the human condition.

Every experience isn't just yours. It’s a lantern others can see by. A light in their dark night of the soul. It’s a gift only you can give. Opening up allows new perspectives. The angles people bring to my stories have been enlightening, and I’m grateful for every comment. Don't be selfish and keep it from the world out of fear.

Why Storytelling Matters

For 13 years, I’ve studied ancient traditions. One practice showed up across all of them: storytelling. No matter the culture, no matter the time—story stood at the center. It’s what lifted us beyond instinct, beyond reaction. It gave us memory, meaning, and identity.

Facts explain. But stories change people. You can share a truth all day long. You can outline it, chart it, list it. But if you want someone to feel it—if you want it to live inside them—you need a story. That’s not marketing. That’s how the human mind holds truth.

Long before books, before writing, before anything we’d call “history,” there were stories. Told by firelight. Passed from mouth to mouth. Held in memory, not on pages. Story was how people made sense of the world. It’s how we knew what mattered. How we stayed alive. How we passed on wisdom when there was no other way. These weren’t just tales. They were survival guides. They were blueprints for how to be human.

Imagine you’re a child. An elder tells you, “Don’t eat those berries.” You nod. But a month later, you forget. Now imagine they tell you a story: “Your uncle—one you never met—decided to try those berries. He started foaming at the mouth. Fell to the ground. Convulsed. Dead before anyone could help.” That’s an image that stays with you. That’s a lesson that doesn’t fade.

Stories do something facts can’t. They pull you out of your own life and drop you into another. They let you feel what someone else felt—without risk or resistance. They move you without telling you where to go. You don’t argue with a story. You follow it. And by the end, something in you has shifted. You’re not who you were.

That’s why myths last. They evolve, but they don’t age. They wear different faces in every time and culture, but they always point back to you. Every story is a mirror. Whether it’s a god, a rebel, a lover, or a fool—you don’t just watch them. You become them. That’s why stories change you faster than any bullet list ever will.

If you want your words to land, wrap your truth in a story. Even a short one. Forget “how-to.” Say, “Here’s what happened.” Start in the middle. Show us the shift. Let us feel what changed—and how it changed you. Because when you tell the right story, in the right way, it could save someone’s life.

Transmuting The Story

The right story doesn’t end when it’s told. It echoes. It lingers. It begins to shape how you see, how you listen, how you move through the world. And over time, story becomes more than communication. It becomes contemplation. It becomes communion.

It becomes prayer.  

In the inner world, prayer isn’t about asking for things—it’s a way to align. A quiet meeting with the personal deity, where the self adjusts to the larger order. To the God within all.

When prayer turns selfish, like a bargain, disillusionment follows. Because the Universe doesn’t bargain. It evolves. I’m thinking of you “Manifestation Coaches.”

But when prayer becomes a way to grow. When prayer asks, How can I change to meet what’s needed? Clarity comes. It empties you. It readies you.

And this, too, is the highest aim of story. You see where you fit in the unfolding story.

It can either serve the self or serve the world. And you can feel the difference.

When story becomes a tool for manipulation or control, it loses power. It disconnects from truth. But when it flows from service—when it carries wisdom from the past or plants seeds for the future—it becomes sacred.  

Because story isn’t only for remembering. It’s for revealing. It’s a way to hand each other vision. To imagine what hasn’t happened yet. To plan. To prepare. That’s why humans evolved. Not because we remembered well—but because we could see beyond the now.

The best stories do both. They draw from what was. They point to what could be. And in doing so, they help us become who we are meant to be.

Next MONDAY, we’ll shift into the “how.” How to craft stories that captivate. How to shape them so they serve. How to speak so your truth sticks.

See you then.

Your Guide,

Benji Faun