I was recently a guest on a podcast, and one of the first questions would be to introduce myself. Being a strategic storyteller, I knew the answer needed to be a good story.

Today, I have an epic illustration that shows that we don’t have control over the stories we tell.

This is Penny Lane. I just returned from a visit to hang out with my best friend in Alaska, and every Thursday, the dog walker comes to get Penny, load her up, and take her on an adventure, with whom and where she has no idea.

In a podcast interview last week, I was asked how parents can help their children build their stories to become their best selves.

I was on vacation last week in a backcountry ski hut in British Columbia, Canada. A group of 10 of us was dropped off via helicopter with two ski guides, and a chef. For six days, I was offline digitally. We’d go ski touring, climbing up to the ridges surrounding the hut and skiing down.

The draft of my upcoming book is back from the editor, and I think we’re going to leave the following story out (gasp), not because it isn’t a good story but because sometimes we all have to make hard decisions about what goes in and what goes out.

“Thank you for calling XYZ Industries. Your call is important to us. Please stay on the line. Your expected wait time is 32 minutes.”

In my upcoming book, The Power of Story, I highlight the three qualities of powerful storytelling that build connection. I will tease them out here because you are my community, and I’d welcome your reactions to this as I finalize the book this month and send it off to the editor! (screams with glee and terror)

I arrived at the venue an hour before my workshop began. The podium was encased in a plexiglass cage. As I walked around distributing colorful markers on the tables, I aligned the butterflies in my stomach by thinking about how I was about to help the 20 or so leaders about to file into the room.

“Trust me.” My dad used to say this, and whenever he did, we all rolled our eyes in fear and perhaps a tinge of distrust. There is something that prefaces a situation with “trust me” that actually encourages us to think the opposite.