Stories

Stories. Not binary code, not hex, not any sort of computer logic, but stories are the currency of the human brain. Stories tell us where we left our keys, they tell us who we are. They tell us why we love our friends and hate our enemies. We are either remembering the past in the format of a story, or like a shadow thrown forward by the sun, casting our own daydreamed story into the future. We are so good at telling stories we can do it even without being conscious of it. Stories are the X and Y of our world, they are our up and down, they are the nails holding the whole damned picture to the wall. We seem uniquely suited and hence vulnerable to the power of stories. Stories have possessed nations. They have carried men to the moon and united nations to fight against tyranny. They have also turned brother against brother and moved the thinking hand of man to genocide. Most of all, we each individually want nothing more than to be in our own story. We will twist any event to that aim, struggling and striving with our every breath to hold it all together, to make life make sense in a way we can accept. Stories give the unpredictable events of a vast unfolding universe personal meaning. They are undoubtedly an illusion. But would we want to live without them?