The Art of Mindful Storytelling: Lessons from a Classroom in the Mountains

“With great power comes great responsibility.”

A true line. Just never thought it applied to me.

Here I’m in a tiny corner of the internet sharing my small, insignificant journeys through my amateur content. I didn’t have any powers.

But here’s the thing I learnt from my teacher – Even if one person reads or watches your story, they have an impact. And when you have an impact, you have power, and you have to use it responsibly.

So, when that teacher announced a workshop on Mindful Storytelling in the mountains, I had to go.

The wonderful facilitators

The teacher is none other than Shivya Nath—whose book The Shooting Star is one of my all-time favourite travel reads—has long been an inspiration. She grew up in the Himalayas, left her corporate job at 23, and has been writing powerful stories about slow, meaningful and sustainable travel ever since. Her work touches on local communities, the environment, and the kind of travel that transforms you from the inside out. I’ve followed her journey for years, and her words have shaped the way I think about storytelling.

The co-facilitator of this workshop was Rishabh Khaneja, who is a beautiful writer I first connected with online. I’d already experienced his gentle magic of holding space for writers through his Creative Writing Laboratory.

When the two of them came together to host a mindful storytelling workshop, I knew it was going to be epic.

The beautiful location

The workshop took place at Deer Park Institute, a former monastery turned learning space tucked away in the hills. Inspired by the ancient Nalanda tradition, it offers education without the burden of cost—everything runs on a donation basis. From philosophy to art, the place hosts workshops, retreats, and courses. Open, welcoming, and deeply rooted in purpose, it felt like the perfect setting for a workshop on mindful storytelling.

The thought-provoking sessions on Mindful Storytelling

Over the next four days, in what felt like the classroom of my dreams, I got to immerse myself in storytelling like never before.

But this wasn’t about flashy headlines or perfect captions. This was about intention. Presence. And awareness.

We wrote stories, yes. But we also spoke deeply about their impact—how words can inspire, but also harm. How even a travel story is never just about a place—it’s about power, privilege, and people. So I want to share the things that stood out most to me:

The Dangers of a Single Story

This was one of the sessions that completely blew my mind.

We read the transcript of Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie’s TED Talk, The Danger of a Single Story—a piece that explores how hearing only one narrative about a place or people can flatten their identity. It’s not that the single story is untrue, but that it’s incomplete. And that incompleteness is where danger creeps in.

One of the lessons of writing that I have had trouble following is to eliminate phrases like ‘I think,’ ‘I believe’, or to just avoid any sentences that will dilute the perspective shared to keep the writing sharp. Especially when I’m telling stories about others. This one gave validity to that hesitation.

There is a risk of reducing a place, a culture, or even a person to one version of a narrative when you don’t give room for questions or other perceptions.

This is something both readers and storytellers need to hold close: stories can shape perspectives, and sometimes, they can limit them too.

Mindful Photography

One of the most unexpected sessions was on mindful photography.

The task? Take only five photos in half an hour. That’s it.

In a world where our cameras can take ten pictures per second, this felt like a quiet rebellion.

With that limit, I was forced to slow down. To observe more closely. To think about the frame, the light, the feeling—before hitting the button.

I honestly couldn’t remember the last time I had noticed so many small details about a place. The way the light fell on a leaf, the sound of footsteps, the quiet stillness of a corner.

I don’t know if my photos were great and that wasn’t the point. But I walked away with a new kind of appreciation. For the act of seeing. Really seeing.

Making Zines

Honestly, I had no idea zines were a thing, let alone something this fun.

Zines (short for magazines or fanzines) are small, handmade booklets people create to express thoughts, ideas, stories, or art. Think of them as a pocket-sized explosion of creativity.

We had about 40 minutes, and each of us got to make one. No rules, just paper, pens, and our thoughts.

Of course, I ended up sharing something personal—turns out that’s my default setting.

And then came my favourite part: we kind of “published” them in the classroom, laid them all out, and took time to go through each one.

The creativity in that room? Unreal. Every single zine had a different flavour—some were funny, some deep, some abstract. I was just blown away by the range of ideas.

Such a simple exercise. Such a wholesome, joy-filled hour.

What facilitation can look like

One of the biggest takeaways for me was this: Good facilitation isn’t about dumping knowledge.
It’s about creating space.

Space to question, to experiment, to share, to grow.

Shivya and Rishabh didn’t stand in front of us handing out lessons and strategies. They gently pointed us in a direction and let us explore. There was room for discussion, reflection, even disagreement.

It’s the first time I’ve been part of a workshop where the facilitators spoke so little—while we spoke, wrote, shared, and created so much more.

And that in itself was such a beautiful lesson.

Sometimes people don’t need to be taught. They just need a space where they feel safe enough to bring their creative selves to the surface.

I walked away from those four days of mindful storytelling workshop with something precious:
Clarity about my voice. Confidence in my choices.
And a deepened commitment to never just “put stuff out there.”
Because I’m not just a storyteller. I’m someone who holds stories. And that’s a responsibility I now carry with a lot more awareness