There were a couple of images that particularly resonated for me in the storytelling gym.

One is the idea of coming home to your own body, the constant relationship between expansion and contraction as natural as breathing itself. Over the last several years, I have noticed a disconnect with my own body as it has aged and external demands have pushed in on me.  My body has changed in ways that are foreign to me and I haven't kept up with the changes.  Recently, I even caught myself, in the middle of a story, realizing that I wasn't supporting the telling with my breath. Being kinesthetic, the idea of coming home to my own body is a delight (and it's sore, I can feel it already).

The other idea is looking at the storytelling event as being a threshold moment, where the storyteller stands on the threshold between the world of the listener and the world of the story.  Threshold moments are moments when absolutely anything is possible and the notion that the storyteller stands on the threshold provides the safety for the listener to delve into the world of the story more fully.  The storyteller knows every crevice of the story and is willing to make it accessible to the listener. There is a quality of presence that is palpable when the storyteller invites the listener in; as we witnessed when Julie told us about the world outside the window...such a beautiful example.  (By the way, just saying -- outside my window, right now,  there is thunder and lightening and torrents of rain.  A jolt of enthusiastic celebration for this Californian.)