In my life as a teacher, I often offer a class that focuses on short stories. On the first day, I remind people that we live in story. We are constantly making meaning of what we have experienced by giving order or shape to our memories. In other words, the past must be narrated to be remembered and understood. Likewise, we project our desires (and fears) forward into time, imagining scenarios that have not been lived so that we can move into the future without losing our way. In fact, we can only exist fully in the present through the stories we tell of what has been and what might be. And, of course, our personal tales of the past and future inevitably draw from what we have heard and read.
Writing An Archaeology of Yearning reminded me of this powerful source of strength: the right stories (or rightly understanding what has been lived or read) can provide a way forward. This blog, then, will be a continuation of this process of storytelling, this incessant desire to remain vigilant and wakeful.