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Put in straightforward terms—humans need stories because they appeal to our unconscious needs for love, justice, discovery, etc.—I
“I soon learned that it’s possible to be a good person and a poor parent.”
“But what I learned from my mother is that giving and receiving love is the greatest risk and the greatest joy. Sometimes at the same time.”
But some stories were too close, too personal, and too dangerous to share.
“Fictional characters are often more real than the flesh and blood people around us—in the ways that matter, that is.”
The ordinary lies, the ones easy to admit to, often hide something worse.”
“There’s peace, and then there’s loneliness, and one can turn easily into the other,”
“Lighthouses are tragic, you know.”
“They are strong, courageous even. A beacon of light in the midst of a storm. Everyone admires them . . . but from a distance.”
“When you think about it, we’re all passing through, in and out of this world quick as a passenger boarding a train, on the way to something that lasts. Until then, you might as well make friends with your fellow travelers.
“Giving and receiving love is the greatest risk and the greatest joy.”
Wasn’t that one purpose of stories? The best ones might be about good and evil in fictional lands, but they were meant to help people recognize them in the real world. And maybe even teach them how to respond with wisdom and courage.
I have found that books make fine friends—but fellow readers even better.
