Sunday, April 16, 2006
the broad-leafed-boy can’t eclipse my story
I often experience anxiety when I lose perspective on the relative importance of the narratives in my life. I am apt of inflate a minor narrative at the expense of a major one. Or I forget what tasks belong to which narratives.
I know I am speaking abstractly here, but heck, this is my blog, and sometimes abstractions are necessary for me to handle details. I like broad categories, universal stories, collective symbols. And, yes, I like metanarratives.
Little stories are sometimes very addictive. Like the story of the broad-leafed-boy and his river. It's a good story and I want to write it. But I forget the story of the amber-colored-girl with the baby in her arms and that what she needs is some movement.
forward and up