On…The Stories we Tell Ourselves
Humans’ superpower is our ability to tell stories.
As humans, the idea of certainty is hugely alluring. Having a sense that we know what’s coming next is often a route to feeling safe.
From an evolutionary perspective, this makes a lot of sense. It’s difficult to enjoy the moment and be present if we don’t know what’s lurking behind that bush over there that seems to be casting weird shadows.
But when we place ourselves somewhere in which we have a strong vantage point of what’s around us, one in which we know that something unexpected can’t spring upon us, that’s when we can allow ourselves to breathe.
Certainty about our environment gives us a chance to relax. To feel safe.
But that’s not the reality of our world; it’s unfortunately messy and unpredictable.
It’s full of uncertainty. From what the weather might do tomorrow, to how someone might respond to a text message, to the staircase that you’re walking up suddenly giving way and you twisting your ankle. Our world is not one in which we can ever have full certainty, no matter how tempting the idea of it is.
In order to survive within this context, everything on earth has had to create a set of skills. For animals this has led to the evolution of great physical attributes; to run faster, climb higher, be stronger, see further, hear more acutely. The physical abilities of animals far outstrips those of most humans.
But we developed something else that would prove to be more powerful and set the foundation for humans’ incredible progress over the past 150,000 years; the ability to tell stories.
Stories help us to make sense of an uncertain world.
Whilst we might not know exactly how we developed this superpower, the impact behind our ability to tell stories has defined the past 100,000 years of history on this planet.
Stories allow us to make sense of the world around us, particularly when it’s uncertain.
Take the case of poisoinous plants. In a world where foraging and gathering was key to survival, the relative unpredictability of plants to kill or nourish us was a real concern. Therefore, early stories around the dangerous ones might have started with a form of sign language around specific ones to avoid. Those signs might have evolved into a form of spoken language passed down from generation. And in time those progressed into cave paintings to preserve this knowledge for future generations. We developed stories about other tribes; which are friends and which are foe. Stories about animals and how best to hunt or avoid different types.
In this way, we start to see how stories became crucial to human beings building a base of knowledge that informed others of how to interact with their uncertain environments.
Having access to a set of stories that we feel we can believe in is our attempt to create pathways to certainty. These pathways are ways in we try to make ourselves feel safe. Stories are our refuge.
It’s why books, plays, movies, and great story-tellers have always defined modern human development. We intuitively understand the importance of story-telling for our survival, and therefore are bound to our fascination with story-telling as a way of honing these vital skills. So much so that scientists believe story-telling is hardwired into our brain’s neural networks. They have found that we process information as a story before our conscious mind even has a chance to access it.
Kendall Haven, Stanford University
On average, this has served us very well as part of the history of human progress. As stories led us to make greater sense of the world around us, we were able to advance our knowledge of crucial ideas; such as how the sun revolves around the earth, the impact of the climate on growing crops, how nutrition can help us to develop, how the study of germs allows us to keep healthy and fight infection, among countless others.
But, like most evolutionary traits, we have to recognise that there can be too much of a good thing.
Stories are not facts; they exist to prompt questions.
A fact is a statement that is verifiable to be true or false. It is a piece of information that corresponds to objective reality and can be supported by evidence or observation. Facts are not influenced by personal feelings, interpretations, or opinions.
Stories are by their definition open to interpretation. The greatest stories persist because they force us to ask questions of ourselves, those around us and our world. And this is where their power can work in ways that can make our life tricky.
When we have a story that we believe in, we can find a sense of comfort in that. It breeds a sense of certainty, and alongside that, safety. I know what plant to eat. I know how to avoid getting eaten by a lion. I know which person to trust in my circle. I know who I should partner with in my life.
But when we confront something that challenges our stories, it has the reverse impact. Situations, people or feelings that challenge our narratives make us feel uncomfortable. They introduce uncertainty into our view of how we believe the world should work. We don’t like this uncertainty because generally it doesn’t feel safe. And we can then have instinctive reactions as a result that are not always helpful to us or others; we are tempted to reject challenging stories, and those that represent them.
When we don’t feel safe, the temptation to attack grows as a means of defence.
Embracing uncomfortable stories makes us stronger.
Our in-built, animalistic relationship with story-telling hasn’t diminished over the past 150,000 years. But through human, technological and societal advancements, the role of stories has changed. And so, too, should the way in which we relate to them.
Through modern advancements, we generally don’t exist in a world where getting a story wrong could kill us. Our supermarkets aren’t stocked with a pick ‘n mix selection of ‘poisonous or not?’ mushrooms. Cheetahs don’t lurk behind the frozen produce freezers. The challenging stories we encounter in the modern world are far less intrinsically linked with actual, physical danger.
But our brains and neural pathways don’t know that. They’re still on high alert to say:
“This feels uncertain; danger might be present”
In this modern world, we have the opportunity to pause and reflect when we confront a challenging story, a version of the world that we believed made sense, that no longer seems to hold true. But if we don’t recognise these opportunities, we run the risk of letting untrue stories control our reactions.
When we confront a feeling of uncertainty, or anxiety, or unease, we have the opportunity to ask ourselves two questions:
How much of an actual physical threat does this present? (i.e. is my own animal-instinct correct, or not?)
To what extent is my discomfort caused by a story I can’t make sense of, yet?
Taking a moment to pause and reflect on an emotion is a vital skill in the modern world. If we don’t, we run the risk of our emotions controlling us, and therefore not feeling as though we are in control of our lives. In the absence of actual physical threats, we have the chance to recognise that feelings of uncertainty are, in the vast majority of occurences, just that - feelings.
We then get to choose how to react to that feeling. Is it something we need to react to in order to preserve our physical well-being? If so, we should do so.
If not, we should ask why we’re feeling discomfort.
And the answer to that lies in the following question:
What is the story do I believe in that is being challenged by this situation?
It’s understandable to feel discomfort in our daily lives. This is a sign that tour world view has been challenged, and that leaves you feeling uncertain, and possibly unsafe.
But it becomes necessary to then challenge whether you actually are unsafe. And if you’re not, to then question your original story.
Our relationship with the stories we tell ourselves is fundamental to crafting a version of the world that we want to exist in. And that all begins with being open to asking ‘why’ behind the stories in our minds, in order to better understand and benefit from them.
The Grey Life Course is designed to teach you to do just that in a step-by-step approach. Click here to find out more.