If anyone had told me that after turning fifty I’d move to a new country, I would have laughed. But that’s exactly what happened.

My wife and I landed in a city where we knew no one — no friends, no colleagues, not even a familiar accent. On our second or third day, we bumped into a neighbor who was out in her yard, pulling weeds. She looked up, smiled, and struck up a conversation.

A week later, she invited us to her Toastmasters club.
We went out of curiosity. We stayed for something else entirely.

Not only did Toastmasters teach us how to be better speakers, it gave us a community! A roomful of people who encouraged us to tell our stories and gifted us theirs in return.

That’s when a quiet truth clicked for me: storytelling is a social craft.
It always has been.

We often think of storytelling as a solo pursuit — you sit alone with your thoughts, trying to turn experience into language. But stories were never meant to be crafted in isolation.

Stories grew out of circles: campfires, dinner tables, rehearsal rooms, porches, classrooms, meeting rooms.. And today, just as much as ever, stories grow best when they’re shared, shaped, challenged, and heard in the presence of others.

If storytelling is social, then learning to tell better stories must also be social.

Toastmasters. The Moth. StoryCorps. Comedy open mics. Writers’ rooms. Sales huddles. Even those spontaneous “war story” sessions at work over chai or coffee.

Whenever people want to become better storytellers, they gather.

Not because someone invented a program, but because we instinctively seek mirrors — people who help us hear ourselves more clearly.

It means you don’t need a stage or a certificate or a perfect script.
You just need people.

A small circle at work. A group of friends who meet once a month to share one story each. A Friday ritual with your team:
“Tell us one moment from this week that stayed with you.”

A storytelling community doesn’t require permission, budget, or a plan.
Just people, presence, and a place to speak aloud.

Because the moment a story leaves your head and enters a room, something changes — in the story, and in you.

Pick two colleagues or friends. Set aside 20 minutes.
Each person shares one short story — a moment from work or life.

The group answers only one question: “What stayed with you?”

That’s all.
No critique.
No polishing.
Just reflection.
You’ll be surprised what you hear back.

At Zebu, we’re starting something new in the year ahead — a small, warm community for people who want to practice the craft of storytelling together.

If you’d like to be part of it, or if you want a simple checklist to start a storytelling group of your own at work or with friends, reply to this email or click here.

Storytelling grows when it’s told.
Storytellers grow when they’re heard.