While walking through Piazza Navona a city square in Rome, Italy there was a commotion at one of the entrances to the square. A cloud of pigeons were descending toward a woman pushing a bicycle. Even though the birds made a stir with a lot of cooing and flapping of wings at first I didn’t think anything of it. The women strolled onto the square as more and more pigeons gravitated toward her. Some of them were competing with each other as they tried to shove their beaks into bags attached to her bike, bags full of seed. She gradually parked her bike against a wall and began feeding the flock of frenzied birds.
It was a curious, gentle and beautiful sight.
I began to wonder what her story was. It was obvious the pigeons recognized her the moment she stepped into the square. What brought her here? Who was she? What did her day look like when she wasn’t feeding the pigeons? I made up that there was something timeless about her something precious and solitary. I also wondered if what she was doing was safe. What about infectious germs carried by those pigeons? She didn’t seem too concerned.
Even so there was a story in her and she told it by being there at that moment.
Everyone in the square who noticed the woman that day got to make up their own story about her. She carries her own story and we make stuff up about her.
It is something we all do every single day that we live. We make up stories, we have our own stories about others and others have stories about us. Good stories, sad stories, happy stories bad stories.
What stories do you make up?
Theresa Norris, CPCC www.norriscoaching.com
Photo and video by T. Norris