Narrative Purposes

  Writing narrative can have different purposes. There is 'revealing' what is true and harmonizing with it, and then there is using writing to coerce or to persuade. This is a little bit like the difference between trying to use tools to work with nature and trying to use tools to go against nature. The former example might be using a fallen tree as a way to get across a stream of running water, while the latter might be using explosives to cut through a rock and replace it with a road.
   I wonder, how does a person write themselves into existence? What is the difference between writing to harmonize with the circumstances and reveal what they are, and using writing to create a face or an identity that may or may not be authentic? I think the difference probably has to do with the attitude a person takes when writing. Sometimes the attitude is oppositional: I might not like what the world presents to me, so I try to oppose it in some way by creating an identity that is isolated from the world. On the other hand, I might use the elements around me to create a different attitude toward them.
   An example might be: this morning, there was an extremely cold temperature, and I had many errands to do, including getting books for an upcoming course. I could take that moment in two different ways. One is to fantasize about having a hovercraft that safely gets me from A to B without any hassles or pains. Another way is just to behold the moment for what it is: cold. Windy. Erratic temperatures. Discomfort. And I can start to explore the wonders of that experience. For instance, there is the wonderful sense that transit still operates in this cold weather, I can get to my destinations on time, and walking against the wind gives me an opportunity to exercise my muscles. I can also consider the ways I can better prepare myself to accept the weather and even marvel at the natural forces that go into its operations. Rather than trying to resist it, I can go with it and accept its quiet wonder, as though I were staring into a divine creation, or a sublime mountain. What is the use in trying to change a mountain into something else, or something 'controllable'? If everything could be subdued or even avoided, wouldn't it take the beautiful edges off of life? Why do things have to be smooth and predictable? I think being with the present, incomplete discomfort is a way of lessening trying to perfect the moment through comfort or convenience.
   During the Dharma talk this weekend, Fashi mentioned the idea of karma and how we can best utilize the idea. The common view of karma is that it is about reaping what one sows. For instance, one could interpret the stormy weather as a sign that someone has done something wrong and it is now a punishment for their past behavior! This perspective can make the situation more difficult to manage. The other extreme is to conclude that there is simply no connection between the situation and the previous one. This is like the nihilism of 'stuff happens', which can also lead to a quiet despair. A third option, which I believe Fashi described, is to fully accept that whatever happened has already come to fruition. If I see it as a punishment, I am only adding another thought to the already existing moment, and that can distort the situation itself. If I am reconciled to the fact that things are as they are now and the past is irreversible, I can then have the strength to see it in new ways that don't inhibit me or vex me in some way. I can also see that even 'accidents' are really opportunities in disguise. This may be a new way to narrate what happens to a person: not seeing things as punishment, or as revenge, or as 'this is the way it is', but seeing the silent promise of the everyday, and what it could become through time and patience.