Changing the narrative

A narrative is a story we tell ourselves, or we are told or absorb from our culture, to make sense of who we are and how we relate to the world.

Narratives are very powerful in both positive and negative ways. They can make us resolute, like “When the going gets tough, the tough get going”, or they can be destructive when misapplied, like the Biblical narrative that tells us God gave mankind ‘dominion’ over the Earth. There are cultural narratives, like stories about how the world was created and how a group or nation came into being, the ‘imagined realities’ which Yuval Noah Harari believes to be crucial for cooperation between large numbers of people. And there are personal narratives in which we explain to ourselves why, for example, somebody dislikes us (“She’s jealous of my success”), or why we keep failing (“Everybody’s against me”), or why we are successful (“I’m more talented than the rest”).

Narratives help us function in a complex world, but some narratives can trap us into a narrow way of thinking. For example, the present Governing Board – along, it seems, with some Aurovilians – appears to think that Auroville has failed because after 53 years we have not yet manifested the city. But this discounts, or fails to take into account, our very considerable achievements over this period.

Or take the present Crown controversy. At the moment there are a number of narratives relating to it. One is that the speedy completion of the Crown according to the Master Plan is an absolute prerequisite for the construction of the city. Another is that the Crown must be a perfect circle, as this has spiritual significance. Another is that the community has already approved the Master Plan, so there is no need to revisit it. Yet another is that the Master Plan has destroyed the original Galaxy concept.

Such narratives make it easier to frame the present Crown conflict in polemical terms, pitting ‘foresters’ against ‘city developers’, or those in favour of progress versus those who favour the status quo. Such framing is not only highly inaccurate. It undermines our unity and limits our understanding of each other and our possibilities of generating alternative scenarios.

One way to avoid a particular narrative limiting our vision is to generate many alternative narratives.

At the moment, for example, the dominant narrative of the Crown is that it is primarily a road, with all the negative associations of speed, noise, pollution etc. But the Crown is not clearly a road in the original Galaxy plan – where it is largely defined by built structures. And if we substitute ‘Crown way’ (or, to use Roger Anger’s terminology, ‘circulation space’) for ‘Crown road’, suddenly the options multiply. For, as a means of linking the different Zones, a ‘way’ could be a footpath, cattle track, cycle path, canal (which actually featured in one of Roger’s early plans for the Crown), rail, elevated cableway, treetop walkway, or even a metal strip in the ground, as suggested by one Aurovilian. And the means of transportation could be cable car, train, boat, tram or Segway, as well as the electrical vehicles Mother spoke of.

Clearly, depending upon the nature of the linkage, the form, or forms, of transportation chosen, and the degree to which climate and natural features as well as socio-economic factors are taken into account, the dimensions and look of the ‘way’ would be very different, and the routing could go through, round, over and/or under buildings, plazas and natural features.

Interestingly, some of the Dreamweaving architects are already exploring some of these options.

Another way to avoid the limiting of our vision and options is to devise narratives which are as wide and inclusive as possible. In this context, one of the most useful narratives we could reaffirm at present is that there is nothing inherently contradictory between ecological wellbeing and consciously-conceived city development.

In this context, the Crown could be conceived as a path of integral unity, a manifestation of unity in diversity in which different materials, forms and natural features are united by a common language or held in dynamic balance; a place to be manifested not only by planners and builders, but also by foresters, artists, children; a site for diverse activities like street theatre, rollerblading, fairs, debate (cf. Speaker’s Corner in London), film shows etc. In other words, a social space as much as a circulation space, a place where we could all feel at home.

Ultimately, however, the need is to move beyond narratives altogether – for even the best of them are mind-based and limiting – to embrace a wider, more dynamic vision in which ‘truth’ is not static but an aspect of a wider, evolving process.

But this would require a much more flexible stance, based upon the acceptance that none of us possesses the truth in its entirety, as well as sensitivity to the unfolding of the moment rather than an adherence to specific narratives and fixed outcomes.

Mother described such a process when clarifying to Satprem how the Ashram had developed. It’s the consciousness constantly at work, not as a sequel of what was there before, but as a result of what it perceives every instant. In the mental movement, there is the consequence of what you’ve done before – it’s not that, it’s the consciousness which CONSTANTLY sees what has to be done. It’s extremely important to understand that, because that’s how it’s still working – for everything. It’s not at all a “formation” whose development you must look after: it’s the consciousness which, every second, follows – follows its own movement. That allows everything! It’s precisely what allows miracles, reversals, and so on – it allows everything. It’s the very opposite of human creations. It was like that, it continues to be like that, and it will always be like that so long as I am here.