The Tales Untold

       “Humans need fantasy to be human. To be the place where the falling angel meets the rising ape.” – Sir Terry Pratchett

       We live in interesting times, if I may say so. Times when our words are not reflected in our actions and our actions are not a reflection of our beliefs… If that’s not fascinating, I am at a loss as to what is. But I do believe ‘interesting’ should suffice for this particular discourse (lest I actually say what I mean and we all end up terribly depressed and altogether the worse for it). 

       I ought to mention, perhaps, that times are always ha– … pardon, interesting to some extent. And I do believe it is well within our resilient and blindingly stubborn nature to endure such challenges as those periods provide. Our capacity to bear the unbearable and tolerate the intolerable is one of the few reasons I still maintain my rather misplaced faith in our mess of a species. 

       Although such might not seem to be the case, all of the above is closely related to my recent nostalgic thoughts about stories and how they have helped shape us and guide us through such times. And how we, in turn, have given shape and substance to them – how new stories have emerged from old ones viewed with a fresh set of eyes, and how new legends, new myths, new… companions have been born for us. By our own triumphs and failures. 

       I will admit that I will never see stories from an objective, purely rational perspective. I am a story-teller at heart, even if real life would beg to differ. This is because I hold the belief that there is a higher calling to this art, if you will excuse the clichéd turn of phrase. The pursuit of a simple truth is admirable, to say the very least. For that is what a writer does – should he succeed, then he has captured an aspect of the human condition in all its multi-faceted and immeasurable complexity. Although I have no doubt that very few writers actually set out to build their careers with that abstract objective in mind. 

       But that is what they do, in the end. The best of those stories will reach even the hardest of hearts. As ever it has been throughout the ages, that sliver of truth will find its way to an open mind, to a wild imagination, to a lonely soul… to both sage and fool. Stories have been with us for far too long – they are an intrinsic part of us. And while it is true that times have changed since those first fairy tales were born, and while the boundaries between fantasy and reality have become far more clearly defined, the worlds that exist just beyond what we see will always call strongly to those of us who seek a truth. Any truth. 

       For the fantasy of one is a reality to another, and the stories we make are the truths we have known.

Flawed Objectives

       'Try not to become a man of success but rather to become a man of value.' - Albert Einstein

       I feel I must admit that I am troubled. But perhaps that is putting it too gently. I am baffled, exasperated and at the threshold of being gloomy. This is not, surprisingly, the consequence of any personal failing of mine. Save for my repeated inability to comprehend the vicissitudes of fate, I am rather content with my grasp of this world. Theoretically and empirically, I understand that I shall never fully understand it. And that for me is reasonably sufficient – for the extent of what may be known is beyond the capacity of any single human being.

       The source of my particular frustration is to be discovered within my failure to see any meaning or purpose to the self-perpetuating and, if I may say so, rather pointless endeavour of becoming a ‘success’. I have already established in my previous writing that, to me personally, that notion is defined by the attainment of interpersonal experience – our bonds with others are ultimately the most meaningful aspect of life (or at least, the most meaningful aspect that I can observe). Considering that I have reached this conclusion, I have taken it upon myself to examine objectively the current societal structure – our predisposition to climb a ladder of another’s choosing. (Worry not, I won’t really do that. Not only does it entail loads of rather tedious analysis, but it is also far beyond the scope of a blog post.)
       Now that your worries have been laid to rest, I will admit I still fail to see any meaning or purpose to the above-mentioned phenomenon. Nevertheless, I do want to share one particular insight of mine. It is related to what we see every day. And I hope it is close to the truth – at least in some small way. I have realised that, if you think you’re ‘getting ahead’ in life, you shouldn’t look back over your shoulder to see those you’ve passed by on the way.

       You should look ahead, far in the distance, to those you underestimated when the race was just beginning.