We all have stories about our lives which we tell to others, we have the so-called curriculum vitae which we use to gain {or otherwise} employment. More often than not we may be bigged-up in our own version of our events, our narrative assimilation. Rarely do we cast ourselves villain.  In our stories there are other people, other cast members, upon whom we may apportion blame. The “baddies” are not us or ours. There is propaganda and PR about our role in the world. To imagine that we recollect and then retell with 100% accuracy is delusional. Our perception is not omniscient and our bias remains. Our stories contain fiction and are skewed.

–

–

From time to time events can happen which can get us to completely re-evaluate our lives and the events therein. Our erstwhile self-diagnosed angelic roles may be called into question. How we see someone can change dramatically and that can unpick our previous narratives.

I can envisage this story, told piecemeal in the blog, being part of a much wider picture. One that could attract media attention and upend many things. For example, were I to be outed as a tulku then everyone who has ever interacted with me might change their story. There may be a few lines in a newspaper and even a wiki page. People could have an interesting snippet to add to conversation over dinner. Some might view an incarnation as a science academic interesting, if only for a fleeting moment. Before they watch the next TikTok.

“When I knew him, he was a right piss artist…Tsk, Tsk.”

In other contexts, some might imagine tremendous luck and an auspicious meeting.

This is of course hypothetical. In this corner of the internet, I am not a part of a wider story. It is / I am unknown. But you never know when our stories might come crashing down.

Because of what I can envisage I am pretty confident that I could handle it. Not that I am likely to need it.

Unless people are monitoring this blog, only a tiny few people know. If it is being monitored then that too adds to some wider story, which in the fullness of time might emerge. It adds flavour and spice. Secrecy is always a tasty plot line.

We sometimes are a part in a wider story of which we are almost completely unaware.

You the reader may be a part of one, which you may or may not ever become aware of.

One day everything you thought you knew, might change.

Then again it might stay the same.