The way we imagine our lives is the way we are going to go on living our lives. For the manner in which we tell ourselves about what is going on is the genre through which events become experiences. There are no bare events, plain facts, simple data - or rather this too is an archetypal fantasy: the simplistics of brute (or dead) nature.... our fundamental unease with Freud's theory is not that it cannot be verified but that it does not satisfy. We fail to fall for it not because it empirically fails as a hypothesis about human nature, but because it fails poetically, as a deep enough, embracing enough, aesthetic enough plot for providing dynamic coherence and meaning to the dispersed narratives of our lives.
We see what our ideas ... allow us to see.
[James Hillman]
Healing Fiction, p.11, 23, 36
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You also have to look at yourself in a temporal context - to have some sense of your life as a narrative, in order to judge whether it is going well or not.
This does not mean that everything from cutting your first teeth to losing the lot of them has to form a logically coherent whole. Not many narratives of any degree of subtlety have that kind of unity.
Narratives can be multiple, ruptured, recursive and diffuse and still be narratives.
[Terry Eagleton]
After Theory, p.127
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People find no resources within themselves and nothing to inspire them outside. It's a state of affairs that would be inconceivable in Tibetan society, where the dying are sustained by the teachings they're reflected on all their lives, and thanks to which they're prepared for death.
They have all the reference points and inner strength they need. Because they've been able to give meaning to their lives, they know how to give meaning to their death, too.
[Matthieu Ricard]
The Monk and the Philosopher, p.270
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Hell in a basket
The Creation of Meaning
Per-Fiction
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