The why (I’m writing this):
I was asked to listen to a motivational speaker recently. The speaker is a well-known someone. You might not know their name, but you know their work. You can’t avoid their organizational network in the motivational world.
The job of a motivational speaker is to make you feel good about the work you are doing. Companies hire them to inspire employees to keep working or even be more productive.
They tell stories to make you feel better or even excited about returning to work. You can imagine your own sports analogy or medical analogy. They are a kind of temporary booster shot or bridge along your path.
I’m not a fan of quick fixes without a plan for lasting benefits. This idea of motivational speakers has been a point of contention for me since I was in high school.
The Takeaway:
Everyone has an opinion of what your story should be, could be, or any other permutations based on their thoughts. It could be your boss, a friend, a family member, or a stranger. Maybe they think they are being kind, judgmental, or genuinely want the best for you. These opinions come in many forms, including advertisements, institutional education, status quo, group dynamics, and cultural indoctrination through all art forms. These are the things in which you need a break.
We are constantly bombarded with stories that push or pull us in one direction or another. These stories are intentionally and unintentionally putting pressure on us to be something. Being expected to "go with the flow" (not to be confused with being in a flow state) is a common and subtle way we experience coercion.
You must always ask yourself, "Why should I go along to get along?" There is a massive difference between choosing to go along and just going with the flow. It can get complicated because you can also choose to go with the flow, which is vastly different. These choices are often highly subtle once you are adept at taking ownership of your life.
Ownership of one's life means you have no one to blame but yourself. You have made a choice and continue making choices along your path. There is no sacrifice to be made because you can see the cause and effect of making a decision and accepting the consequences. Some of these choices are bold, like making a turn that is more than 90 degrees (literal and metaphorical). Others will be smaller, like tuning your attention from immediately in front of you to a few feet away. The art of fine-tuning your attention is the art of fine-tuning your life. Quick side note: As the great sages have foretold, SHIT HAPPENS, and when it does, you have to own that experience so you can shape yourself and not be shaped by the event.
The bottom line is simple; This is your life, your story, and yes, you can write and rewrite it as many times as you want. (If you’ve listened to my podcast, you’ve heard me say this at the end of every episode.)
The story:
For as long as I can remember, I have said facts don’t matter, only the story. As a child, arguments with my father often ended with him pointing out his side and me pointing another side. I would yell about how those two sides had their own two sides, each of them had two sides, and they went on and on in an infinitely stupid battle of endless sides. It gets us nowhere because he refused to consider that he wasn’t right; he was picking a side.
It wasn’t clear to me what I was doing or why I was doing this; I was a child that didn’t ever feel seen or understood. I had significant pain in my difficulty expressing myself. Acting first gave me the power to direct people's attention. Hold them for a moment and get them to see something about myself or a subject. Holding people's attention was powerful and alluring, so much so that I dedicated my life to it. One of the most gratifying things for me then and now as I continue to study TV, movies, plays, and the craft of acting is the ability to go over some aspects repeatedly. Review it and look at it from all angles until you understand the thoughts and intentions behind creating a moment. It took many years till I learned that in the art of storytelling, the artist’s job was to break the story down and craft whatever part/job is theirs to work on for any given project. All this work means that there is a formula or equation that a person can use to break it down and put it back together. How the storyteller puts it back together is the art or craft of their profession.
When I first proclaimed my allegiance to the art of communication, I had yet to learn what it meant to be a professional. I didn’t even realize that acting was a real job until I was 16 while rehearsing a play in high school. Initially, this was just a coping mechanism to get through life. I was performing in plays and vocal performances, but I was also crafting my life. Every conversation I had, I would replay in my head. I was always trying to figure out what people were doing and why they were doing it since I could talk. But now I had a purpose. I had to understand why and what was the intention behind all actions. You can imagine the confusion and frustration I had trying to understand the intentions of other children my age. I remember once I got so mad at a neighbor, I must have been six because he pushed me on the tire swing. I got hurt by accident and was convinced it was on purpose because everyone did everything with intentions in the world I was constructing. It was even more disturbing when kids were more intentionally mean a few years later. Kids just made no sense, and the rules changed constantly; it was exhausting. Adults were not much better, but at least it was clear that they were playing in a much more substantial sandbox. I knew I wasn’t getting the whole picture, which made me anxious to grow up. One of my teachers actually said to me, “Slow down. You'll miss being a kid if you grow up too fast.” I had no idea what he meant and just thought, yeah, that’s the point; being a kid sucks.
College was my real introduction to breaking down the story professionally. I had a few professional gigs before going to college. But I didn’t get it yet. I was just too young still. Most of my peers were trying to get good grades and do the work. I was trying to understand why we were doing this work and why this was the preferred method for getting to the heart of the story. I would stop class to ask questions, and at least one or more classmates would groan. For example, this happened in both an English class and a theater class discussion. I understood that to perform or read Shakespeare was to speak in iambic pentameter. But if Shakespeare often, if not always, workshopped his plays as he wrote, then why was it sacrilegious to adlib as long as it was in the proper meter? The obvious truth is the same reason you don’t take the Lord's name in vain.
If I got to talk to strangers in school, out of school, at parties, or at a job, it was an opportunity to play. Life is one giant improv game, and if you can get someone to say yes and, the story unfolds deeper and deeper. If they say no, the story ends. It’s that simple. When someone says YES, they validate you and your part of the story. The AND is the part they add to your story, and round and round, you go. We are taught this as children as a fun game. Maybe you remember this game. We all sat in a circle, and someone started by saying something like, “one sunny morning,” and then the next person added a few words until everyone had spoken and added to the story. This game is life; somehow, they forgot to tell us this when we were little. Cut to many years later, and we are all still playing this game that’s been going on for eons; the only rule is to keep it going.
Another clever trick we were taught as children but not told that it’s part of the same game is just as simple. “Yes, I see you are doing that, and you see I’m doing something different.” We, as children, are introduced to this game as independence. It keeps the broader game going while allowing other games to continue simultaneously. Here is where all the problems begin and how we get out of it all.
Suppose we look at each story created and maintained as a circle of kids playing. Then you imagine thousands of those stories spinning round and round at a time in that room. Then tell all those kids to keep their stories going while getting up and moving around the space. How many additional stories will get created accidentally as the kids bump into each other? How will each of the stories the kids are working to maintain clash with other stories they come in contact with as they interact? How many stories will start to shift? After playing the game for a long time, how easy will everyone in their original circles deal with or accept the new narratives? What happens when someone says NO, and when other kids come back to their brethren storyteller in saying no? What new story might they say yes to, and will it be friendly? You have to remember the only rule is to keep it going. But which narrative are they to keep going, and which one is the right one? The unique circles of stories spiral through time. We have one mandate, which is to keep it going. What do we do? What action would the teacher in the class when we were kids take? They break the story by taking a break.
I concluded after fighting with myself, trying to fit in, and playing the game to the best of my ability. Break the story! You don’t have to say no, and you don’t have to stop even. You have to take a break and break it down. Then you can choose how you got where you are and how you want to proceed with clarity. The game of life isn’t going to stop for you. You can take a break at any time. Taking a break to reflect, funny enough, is what we generally refer to as meditation. When we consciously decide to do something other than participate in the larger story. It can be washing the dishes, sitting in silence, or running. There are infinite options; some will resonate with you more than others. Many, if not all, will require practice and dedication to become proficient.
For me, life has always been tiring. Most people don’t realize they are playing a game. They take it seriously and will be heated up by reading this now. Stress is the number one killer in life. The more seriously you take your story, the more friction you will experience when your narrative rubs against another story. That stress is a matter of life and death. Ironically, the very thing we are often most afraid of is the same thing we bring about. Again we were taught this lesson as children; the teacher or parent makes us take a break and even think about what we did. They tell us the answer as children is to meditate, be mindful, and let it go. Yet again, to reiterate, we were not told this is part of the same game.
Take a break, Break the Story, break down where you have been, what you have done, and how you got here. Choose how you want to engage with the story you have been told, are being told, and want to tell. Be active in your participation and play the game to have fun. Don’t you remember how silly and fun those days as children were? It can be that way now if you want it to be. That is the power of ownership. That is the power of breaking the story. You can enjoy your life!
Final thought and action.
As I have read and reread what I wrote above, when I get to the end, I take a break and just breath. I sit with the thoughts and feelings of what I wrote. I invite you to take a break and breathe in everything you have felt while reading this, with no judgment of anything. Just open your senses and breathe. Keep in mind I have not made you feel anything; I’ve just given you an opportunity to reflect. You chose to open up as much as you can to your feelings. That was your choice. Let it all sink in; this is your story. I’m not telling you what it should be. I’m asking you to decide. It’s your life, and you get to write and rewrite it as much as you want.
YES I loved your article AND validate your thoughts. If someone says to me "Go with the flow" I automatically question that! (LOL) good rule of thumb.
Very interesting story, we all have our own unique story to tell. You don't have to go along with the crowd, there's no right or wrong- just human.