I’m sitting at a table, thinking about what to write about my BrightRock story over the past 15 years.

Thinking that many stories start at a table.

In fact – bear with me, I’m a history nerd – the story of writing literally started with a table, albeit of a different kind.

In ancient Mesopotamia, Sumerian scribes would press wedge-shaped symbols into soft clay tablets, documenting government business and preserving the stories of people who lived 5 500 years ago.

Later, the Romans used “tabula”, flat boards of stone or planks of wood, for writing and games.

And by the 14th century, derivations of the word table were being used in a polyglot of languages for the wooden surfaces where people eat, work, and gather. Where we start stories, and share stories.

BrightRock’s story also started at a table, where its founders gathered together to talk about life, life insurance, and a brand-new business they were hoping to start.

Just a few months later, I was lucky enough to be invited to also pull up a chair.

And a couple of years after, I got to sit at a table with the team behind the Change Exchange as they shared their ideas around how BrightRock could bring its #LoveChange promise to life, not just for our clients, but for anyone and everyone wanting to get better at navigating life’s change moments.

As we talked about our own experiences of dealing with change, we realised what powerful catalysts and enablers of change stories are.

That’s why, since 2013, the Change Exchange has been gathering and sharing – tabling, if you will – stories of change.

We’ve collected and published around 3, 000 inspiring stories so far.

Of course, stories often end at a table too.

In Afrikaans, when a married couple is separated but not divorced, we say: “hulle is van bed en tafel geskei”.

It’s both prosaic and poignant – the idea that they no longer sleep in the same bed or sit at the same table.

Of course, just as cells grow and multiply by splitting, new stories emerge from every pairing and every parting.

From school to work to family life, so many of my own memories over the past 15 years involve a table of some sort.

The table where my BrightRock career started. The tiny desks behind which each of my three children braved their first day.

The tables where my family gathered to celebrate my niece’s wedding in 2015, a story that I shared on the Change Exchange at the time.

The meeting table in the rehabilitation facility where, a year before our mother’s passing, a social worker explained to my siblings and I that she would never recover from her stroke.

The dining room table where I worked during lockdown.

A plastic table in the hospital cafeteria where, in my middle daughter’s Matric year, my husband and I tried to make sense of her rare diagnosis.

Our patio table where, just a few weeks ago, we gathered to celebrate her 21st birthday and her ongoing remission.

So many tables, laden with food, and joy, and laughter, and tears, and togetherness, where – in an endless variety of locations and configurations – the people I care about have gathered to tell stories, collect stories, start stories, and end them.

So, here I sit at the desk in my office, at which I’ve watched BrightRock’s story unfolding – sometimes merging with my own stories, sometimes diverging from it.

Where I’ve caught glimpses of so many other people’s precious stories too. Where I’m wondering what the next chapters might hold. Who knows?

The one thing I know for certain is this: I am so grateful for my seat at the table.