Myths are a vital part of a society’s glue. They help define who we are and who we are not, where we came from, and maybe where we’re going.
I’m Australian, but not First Nations. I grew up with a very limited understanding of the stories, the myths, that created our land for thousands of years. The Rainbow Serpent might have been my first introduction to the Dreaming.
Storytellers retell old stories. Sometimes they’re myths or support myths. Sometimes they’re family-bonding memories.
Little children often force us to re-read the same book every night because there is comfort in familiar stories. They are a shelter.
Sometimes I wonder if one of the most radical acts of defiance is to retell old stories, holding steady to their truth while the world is in tumult.
The stories we tell reveal our values and define who we become.
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