Throughout the previous parts, I have written about the importance of being present, being aware of our thoughts and surroundings and experiencing reality without allowing our thoughts to completely dictate that experience. However, there is another part of this that can be much harder to recognise; the stories we tell ourselves.
Something happens and almost immediately, we give it meaning.
Imagine sending somebody a message and they don’t reply. The reality of the situation is simply that you sent a message and haven’t received a reply. That’s all you actually know. However, that doesn’t necessarily stop the mind from filling in the blanks, assuming that you are being ignored or you’ve done something wrong, or any number of explanations that could potentially be true, but could just as easily be completely wrong. We might then think perhaps they’re busy or forgot to reply. Perhaps something has happened in their own life that you know nothing about.
Until you know, you just don’t.
This is where it is important to recognise the difference between what happened and what we think what happened means. The human mind doesn’t particularly like unanswered questions. When there is a gap in our knowledge, we naturally want to fill it, but the story that fills it can be influenced by our previous experiences, insecurities, expectations and current emotional state; we then often respond emotionally to that story as if it was an established fact.
This is especially noticeable when we are stressed, angry or anxious; an event itself may have lasted seconds, yet the story we create from it can occupy our minds for hours or even days.
It’s important to then realise that we are then no longer responding to reality; we are responding to our interpretation of it.
This is why being objective is so important. We can ask ourselves what we actually know, what we have observed as well as what we are assuming.
Of course, there isn’t anything wrong with interpretation; we couldn’t function without it. However, the problem begins when we stop recognising interpretation as interpretation and start treating it as fact.
Often, some of the most powerful statements are also the ones we tell ourselves about ourselves, such as not being good at something, stating that we are anxious or that things never work out for us.
If we repeat something about ourselves enough times, it can eventually become part of our identity. We then inadvertently begin looking for evidence that supports the story whilst overlooking evidence that contradicts it. Every mistake becomes proof that we were right, while success might be dismissed as luck. The story reinforces the behaviour and the behaviour reinforces the story.
Our past experiences can influence these stories too; something happening in the present may remind us of something that happened previously and without realising it, we begin responding not only to what is happening now, but also to what happened then. We often experience this when having conversations with parents or relatives. In a sense, there is more than just the adult you in the room; the child you once were is there too. Old family dynamics, emotions and patterns can resurface quickly, which is why we can sometimes find ourselves reacting more emotionally around family than we would if the exact same interaction happened with somebody else. We may be responding to the conversation happening today, but part of us may also be responding to years of conversations that came before it.
These experiences can teach us valuable lessons; the past should provide information rather than automatically determine our interpretation of the present. The person in front of you is not necessarily the person from your past, and you are no longer exactly the same person who originally experienced it.
One of the most difficult things we can learn, therefore, is to become comfortable with uncertainty. We want to know why somebody behaved a certain way, what somebody thinks of us, whether something will work out and whether the decisions we make will prove to be the right ones. Sometimes we simply don’t know yet.
There can be an enormous amount of freedom in accepting that. Not knowing does not have to be an admission of weakness.
This doesn’t mean becoming passive or ignoring our judgement. We can still use our experiences, intuition and reasoning to make decisions. It means remaining aware of where the facts end and our interpretation begins.
Meditation and awareness can help us observe this process as it happens. Just as we can observe a thought without allowing it to consume us, we can notice ourselves beginning to construct a story and ask whether that story is actually supported by what we know.
Reality doesn’t require us to understand it immediately. It exists regardless of whether we have worked out what it means.
Linking back to the previous parts of this series, connecting with reality isn’t about eliminating our thoughts, beliefs, memories or interpretations. These things are part of being human. Instead, it’s about being conscious of their influence and remembering that what exists in our minds is not necessarily what exists in front of us.
So whenever you find yourself becoming consumed by something that has happened, take a moment and ask yourself what actually happened, and what have I added to it. Sometimes the event and the story will be very different things.