When the Mind's Eye Sees Most Clearly

I am working on telling a Native American tale from the Great Plains. I found a great book, "Paul Goble Gallery: Three Native American Stories" and I found the introduction to one of the stories to be quite poignant, and apt for those in our class still beginning to learn the art of storytelling (including myself):

"Stories were told after dark when the mind's eye sees most clearly. Winter evenings were best, when the children were lying under their buffalo robes and the fire was glowing at the center of the tipi. After the sounds in the camp had grown quiet and the deer had come out to graze, the storyteller would smooth the earth in front of him; rubbing his hands together, he would pass them over his head and body. He was remembering that the Creator had made people out of the earth, and would be witness to the truth of the story he was going to tell."

Referring to the time that the "mind's eye sees most clearly," I wonder if we've lost that "time" in our digital age, and if we can ever reclaim that time for more than a brief flicker of attention paid to the storyteller.

When I think about the above quote, I think we've gained so much, but lost even more. We communicate, but we don't always connect in a deep and meaningful way. But hopefully as we become more and more entrenched in the digital world, the longing within people to reclaim that lost connection might become heightened.