I got nothing to tell you... and it's great

I’m doing the dishes and listening to Springsteen on Broadway. 

In between songs, he tells his audience about travelling across the US at 19, back in the days where there was no email and no mobile phones. 

As he launches into the next song, I think about his poor parents, having no clue where their kid was for weeks (if not months!) at a time, and then I imagine my daughters one day leaving home for their own adventures. 

My chest feels tight and I my breath catches. 

“They better stay in touch!”, I almost say out loud. 

And then an image comes back, of myself, at 21, in London. I’m on a double-decker bus, away from home for the first time. A continent away. 

I get flashes of parties, of doing bar work, of the house I shared with 10 people for the first year I was gone. 

I can clearly remember using a cheap international plan to call my best friends, or sitting at an internet cafe to update my blog and check the football scores. 

What I don’t remember is ever calling my family. Letting them know I was alright. Or even thinking for more than a fleeting second that I should. 

I try to imagine my mom, walking past my empty room day after day, too committed “not to bother me” to get in touch and demand regular news. 

Checking her email for messages that never arrived. 

Maybe reading through my blog, if she even knew that existed, and trying to see through all my bragging and nonsense for something real. 

Springsteen stops singing. I notice the water has been running but I’ve long put the dishes down. 

I’m flying back home in a few days. When I get there, I need to give my mom a long hug. 

And say “I’m sorry. I get it now.”

“But nothing happened!”

In my workshops, when I ask people about stories, their mind always goes to to their party favourites: 

• The time something crazy happened during a holiday

• The mountain they climbed or marathon they ran

• How they met their partner

Or they just look blank and say they have no stories 🤦‍♂️

If you’ve been following this newsletter for a while, you’ve already learned that some of the best stories happen only in our heads. 

They are memories. Disparate thoughts connecting into a narrative. Things you imagined. Things you thought were about to happen but never did. Random musings. 

While most people think a story is when something big happened, it’s the opposite: 

In some of the best stories, nothing happens. 

And sometimes, that’s all it takes for so much to change 🤘

-Francisco 

Whenever you're ready, there are 3 ways I can help you:

1. Getting clarity through your story to stand out from all the other coaches, speakers and entrepreneurs out there 

2. If you dream of speaking on the Red Dot, take this Scorecard and instantly discover how likely your idea is to be accepted by a TED-style organizing committee

3. If you (or your team) got any storytelling challenges, I’m sure there’s something we can do together ;-)

Thanks for reading! Reply any time.