An Atlas of Meaning
May the shifting truths of your life nevertheless be an atlas of meaning.
Shifting truths seem to define life as life rarely turns out how we anticipate — “the best laid plans…” and all of that — yet we experience a consistent narrative.
Upon looking back from any point in life, it is easy enough to see the story as it played out. Consciousness paves our memory of what we perceived as linear-sequential events, conflating proximity with narrative. This trajectory in some sense provides the explanation for the present and justification for the future.
While this connection could be illusory, I’m not interested in a metaphysical exploration of Events and Time. Instead, I’m interested in the stories we tell ourselves to make meaning of events and time. Some events happen to us and some because of us, yet apart from discussions of determinism we rarely question our agency (and even for the determinists among us, I’d guess they still experience life and tell stories as though they have agency as it does seem to be our default mode). We do not think about if the life we have lived was the one we intended to live.
I take events to be more inclusive than merely historical and physical. Indeed, “activities” is perhaps more accurate to my working understanding insofar as they more easily include intellectual activities, beliefs, and so on. I’ll stick to using “events” to account for even these, however, because in memory we rarely think of the dynamic, shifting nature of beliefs and intellectual activities. We think of static states. For example, I do not think about (at least without prompting) the changes in my understanding between the beginning and end of my masters. I might recall the hours in the library and the books I read, but I do not recall each of the intellectual steps in the shift from not knowing X to then knowing X. Instead, I recall the state of Not Knowing X prior to learning, in other words the event of Knowing, X (though I could not point to any one moment of that event as the moment is in actuality composed of the entire period).
It seems to me that these sorts of shifts are glossed over in our contemplation of our lives. Most of us can identify beliefs we used to hold though no longer do, but for most of those beliefs we cannot identify precisely when they changed. And many of these things tend to be gradual, just as growth and maturation are gradual: they are recognized only in hindsight.
We rarely consider the extent to which we do not know our own histories. The changes we undergo are indeed gradual, with few significant milestones to mark the way and the vast majority of our days lost to the past. While the bulk of that lost memory is mundane and in large part inconsequential, the aggregate amount lost is substantial. We know ourselves through only fragments of our experiences woven together.
As we weave these fragments together, there are times when we recognize the distances between the fragments. We see that the little inconsistencies in life, the many slight detours taken, the happened-to-us stories in those forgotten moments have shifted us more than expected. The cumulative effect greater than anticipated. The small decisions and the lessons learned over time leading our plans awry.
But awry isn’t all bad. Awry can be innovation and exploration. Awry can be new friends and relationships. Awry can be a more life-giving worldview.
Yet innovation so often entails failure, and exploration danger. Friends take time and effort. Relationships require vulnerability, and sometimes only occur after a season of loneliness or the end of a partnership and saying goodbye to someone dearly loved. Worldviews can change over time and with experience, but sometimes it takes a deep wound, profound suffering, or the reconciliation of a deeply held identity to make the shift.
Life entails such shifts in the truths that define us. Who we are and who we love, what we believe and what we do, the story we live and the story we end up telling. And however much those shift from our intended arc, we manage to make a meaningful narrative from them.
May the shifting truths of your life nevertheless be an atlas of meaning. May you find yourself on the map despite an ever-changing landscape, oriented toward an endless horizon. May meaning find you in the forgettable moments, imbuing your tapestry of forgotten days with significance.
