the sort of reflection everyone can benefit from
Human brains are programmed to weave narratives. We experience something in the moment — a conversation, a feeling — and it is in our nature to make sense of it in a greater context. For some of us, this is a mostly unconscious process: we do not reflect on the connectedness of events unless prompted to do so. For others, it is a deeply salient phenomenon: we follow the train of thought step by step, tying one moment to the next, until we can tell a cohesive story.
One approach is not superior to the other. Despite my own personal preferences, living a more reflective life is not necessarily a better life. But there are pros and cons, risks and rewards — and like most everything, it is dangerous at the extremes.
Take my partner, for example:
Tom lives life in the moment. He is an intelligent, thoughtful, and observant person; but I would not consider him deeply reflective. He doesn’t linger on the meaning of events. He doesn’t make a habit of drawing narrative thru-lines throughout his life. He’s capable of it, of course, but it’s not his default way of thinking.
Tom is also one of the most content people I know. He can dislike people without nurturing resentment. He can endure hardships with remarkable endurance. He is more inclined towards forgiveness than anyone I have ever met. These are deeply admirable characteristics, and I attribute them in great part due to his tendency not to weave stories.
However, sometimes, the story matters. Sometimes, the events themselves signify less than the thru-line that connects them. Sometimes, we aren’t responding to what just happened; we’re responding to what just happened in the context of everything else.
This where Tom’s approach has its weaknesses, and where he has learned to account for his gaps.
On the other hand, this is where I shine.
I live life in all moments. Every experience I have — every conversation, every feeling — gets tied into a broader narrative of my past and future. Everything has meaning. Everything has a story.
Because of that, my life is ripe with fulfillment. Growth feels like the culmination of a lifetime of hard work. Friendships become living memorials of shared experiences and mutual love. Every time I struggle, I feel myself standing on the shoulders of my prior learnings. I love this life, and I would not wish for anything different.
Narratives, however, are subjective. They’re assigned meaning based on our own thoughts and experiences; and that meaning can vary dramatically based on the data that informs it.
…Am I genuinely upset with someone, or am I responding to an overwrought nervous system?
Moreover, stories can be difficult to change when they’ve already been written.
…I have chosen to forgive this person, so why do I continue to feel so distrustful towards them?
I’ve had to learn to account for these gaps — to look more holistically at the sources of my distress, and to give less weight to feelings that no longer serve me.
For me, it’s helped to have a visual. A few years ago, Tom and I did an educational brain scan with a neuroscientist friend of ours. The findings were extremely illuminating. Tom’s results showed a highly efficient neural network: powerful, well-traveled pathways between Points A and B. My results, on the other hands, showed a starburst brain pattern: high, widespread activity. To quote my report: “With every new input you get, every part of your brain gets involved to consider its potential meaning and use.” I nearly laughed out loud when I saw my report. It was comically on-the-nose.
Like I said, there is no one right approach here. It’s about understanding your way of operating, and being honest with yourself about the limitations of that approach.
That’s the sort of reflection everyone can benefit from :)
