The stories we live by in a society, and as a civilization, are a cross-pollination of narratives, derived from age-old belief systems, traditions, rituals, religions and literature, tempered and adapted organically by modern epistemology, pedagogy, philosophy, cultural context and the purely experiential. There’s an inherent, and perhaps predictable narrowing, or reduction, of the “allowable” within these structures. And because of an inevitable tendency toward identity and ideology, our struggles individually and socially arise as and when this unconscious mechanism is either unwittingly or deliberately used against us.
I was walking on the beach at low tide the other day, amazed at how much sandy goodness hides under all that salty brine. I came across five large words scrawled in the sand: vax, mask, distance, calm, care. I wish I’d take a photo of it, because it was amusing, annoying and infuriating all at the same time.
As one delves deeper into unraveling the true nature of things, it becomes increasingly evident that nothing about this world defines much in the way of certainty. It’s all theater, variations on themes, recycled myths, stories and narratives, and endless apparent cycles of birth, death and renewal. What do we really know about the truth of anything?