Recently, I had the chance to read The Truth about Stories (2003) where author Thomas King compares two origin stories, each of which present startingly different worldviews.

According to King, Christianity portrays a stern God, autocratic and rigid (p. 27). In Christianity, we have a world based on a command and control structure, a hierarchy that borders chaos (which exists out there).

In contrast, the Native paradigm features deities who work in concert with one another. Looking at the world through the lens of the Native paradigm, King presents a world determined by co-operation (p. 25).

On page 26, King asks, “Do the stories we tell reflect the world as it truly is, or did we simply start off with the wrong story?” This seemingly rhetorical questionnegs more questions.

For instance, what stories do we tell ourselves? Our lives are stories–and as such, are we not free to reinterpret their meaning(s). The stories we tell are not just located in the past; rather, they are lived now — and to some extent, we narrate our lives as we live them.

Our future, in a sense, is now, and this idea itself is a kind of story. Do we have agency in our stories? Do others have agency in our lives? Are we the sole author of our narratives? Is there a truth to what we think we know? Are there truths?

In King’s Native story, there is depth that will escape many who subscribe (only) to logic and (seemingly) complex worldviews. The notion of flawed deities who require assistance is incredibly different (and perhaps more complex) than a lone God who knows all things. 

What is (y)our story? If the future is now, then it is conceivable that the past is still present. Yet is the past our only proverbial guidepost? Can we imagine a different future? Can we reinvent ourselves? What is possible? The answers depend to a great extent on how we not only view reality, but tell its story…