I just stayed up until 6:00a.m. watching "How I Met Your Mother" (I have no regrets). Part of what kept me intrigued for so long was a stunning plot twist a few episodes back. A plot twist that didn't pan out, or possibly was discarded by the writers. I suppose we'll never know for sure.
But it got me thinking...
How many stories are there in our lives, how many tales that never get told, because in the end it isn't 'important' in the story of us?
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| Predawn, in my backyard. |
How do we determine what is important? How do we decide what we share and pass on, and what we forget?
It's the age old question... do our experiences shape us, our do we shape our experiences?
Right...enough existential quandary for one night/day. I'm off to sleep.
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