Discordant time in life is somehow being caught somewhere between past, present, and future – retro, initio, and prospecto. What, how, when, all flow into the larger question of “who.” Who am I? And why does time play such a complex role in trying to understand my identity? Not sure how to respond, but there’s this. Searching the vast caverns of memory, facing the overwhelming decisions of the moment, and contemplating the incalculable possibilities for the future places me in the concordance of a narrative time and thus gives me a narrative identity. That helps. Stories and self emerge, merge, and surge in an intriguing manner so that within the drama I’m living there is a dynamically dense and reflective equilibrium.
Wednesday, May 2, 2018
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