These Are My Stories, Hope You Share Yours

There Are My Stories, Hope You Share Yours

John Paul Derryberry

The picture adorning this week's "Sunday Night With John" is the Christmas gift I received from my wife; an actual physical copy and collection of every "Sunday Night With John" I have written over the last ten-plus years. The 2023 book is already in the works, but this particular entry must be added. I teared up a little at the opening of the gift. Holding the weekly work in my hands reminded me of my commitment to writing in this space. To tell my stories, work through my own stuff, and attempt to grow through reflection, while hopefully communicating some sort of knowledge to my reader. Never wanted to be a person who uses their space to communicate I have it all figured out. I don’t and honestly rather enjoy figuring it out as I go. It’s way more fun and honest.

Yet, as I held the physical collection in my hands, a wave of gratitude washed over me because it was a task I had  completed. Some weeks are way better than others, and the early editions are challenging to read. There are signs of a voice, but a very raw one. And maybe that's my process because my storytelling and public speaking started the same way. Raw, emotional, swinging wildly, but had a simple truth to it. I started with a desire to ease the burden others carry; not solve their problems, not save them; but just for an hour, 90 minutes, chip away so their pain is lighter than before. It’s still my goal all these years later, ease the burden, nothing more, nothing less. Eventually, the rawness and wild swings fell away, and the emotional aspects tightened, and I found a groove.

The same thing has occurred in this space, which has improved my storytelling, public speaking, me. The same simple goal I started with remains, but how I convey those goals has improved. I have leaned into the storytelling aspects of it and moved away from the lecturing. I'm not perfect, and if you thumb through my writings, you'll stumble into lectures occasionally. But even admitting that is a marathon improvement from where I started. And that's what practicing a craft weekly does for anyone. It hones it; there is no instant baked meal here. I have earned this space.

I have shared the ups and downs of my life; sharing my mental health, my stories about my dad, my mom, my family, my friends, my marriage, and significant world events. I have had to be open enough to write about losing out on becoming a father; then, to write about becoming a dad; share this space with other writers, and reconnect with friends who co-wrote entries with me. Every story has been a fascinating trip into my belief system, my moral compass, who I want to be, and how I hope the world interacts.

I have changed for the better because of this weekly process. I have learned, even in our fast-paced world, there is time for reflection and collection of thoughts before talking about it. I see the reactions, the link clicks I get, and where they all come from, and I'm amazed at how many of you tune in weekly to hear my stories. What will this space look like in ten more years? I do not know. I hope I'm still doing it because I have gotten so much out of this process, and apparently, a lot of you have as well. Thank you for all the feedback, the good, the bad, and the indifferent. What won't change is: this is a place for stories, not lectures; a niche for curiosity, not how-tos; and an inviting and welcoming place to so many from so many different walks of life. So, as we move into 2024, while these are my stories for my audience, I'm a better person because of what you shared with me.  I hope you find a way to share your stories too, they have value.

Happy New Year Everyone.