Re-establishing a Healthy Narrative

It’s been three weeks since I last posted. Life and death have conspired to keep me very busy within the sphere of “my own” life, although as I discussed in Flexible Spheres of Operation, I think we might all be better off if we stopped drawing the line between “my life” and “that which is not my life.”

Still, at times like the last few weeks, my activity often feels rather small and limited. When I’m very busy with what I identify as my “work,” or with taking care of my home or family, life can take on a rather aimless quality. I’m just dealing with the next thing because it’s there. My actions are necessary, not optional, so I don’t as readily connect them with my deeper aspirations or sense of purpose. My perspective shrinks.

Writing helps wake me back up. I don’t know what wakes other people up to what they care most deeply about, but writing helps things in my life seem more meaningful, inspiring, and expansive.

Is it just about weaving a narrative about my life and the world? And, from a Zen perspective, isn’t that just creating something abstract instead of relating directly with reality?

I don’t think so. Again, the problem seems to lie in drawing artificial distinctions that aren’t helpful – in this case, between “reality” (that which you passively perceive with your senses and brain) and “narrative” (something you create with your mind). My narrative is part of my reality, and it has a significant impact on my perceptions and experience of life. In Zen it is sometimes said that the goal of practice is to drop all views (or be able to drop all views), and I agree with that. It’s important to see that my narrative is just that – a story I choose to adopt that makes sense of life in a particular way. Like everything else, it has no inherent reality. And yet it can make all the difference, as Joanna Macy explains in Active Hope. After weeks of getting rather stuck in the details, when I read Macy’s encouragement to step up and take part in the “epochal transition from an industrial society committed to economic growth to a life-sustaining society committed to the healing and recovery of our world,” I want to stand up and cheer. “Oh yeah!” I think. “That’s what it’s all for!”

The value of narrative is probably why so many of us find real sustenance in meaningful conversations with like-minded people, in reading or watching thought-provoking stories, or in encountering art and poetry. These activities can help us care for an inspiring, healthy, and expansive narrative about our lives and our roles in the world. Actually, maintaining such a narrative seems like a responsibility if we want to function at our best, be socially engaged, and live according to our conscience. Since the dawn of civilization (or before), humans have created stories to help orient and give meaning to their activities. We modern folks are no different! Without a story we lose our sense of direction and larger purpose.

What do you do to re-establish a narrative that supports your life and your efforts to be wise, compassionate, and generous? What is your story?