Tina and I are reading a new book together: Aging Successfully, by neuroscientist Daniel Leviton. So far we’ve found it fascinating. Especially our new understanding of how the brain makes memories, stores memories, recalls and edits memories, and most importantly how we each use those edited memories to build our own personalities—our stories as I like to put it.
It turns out the brain is far more plastic and malleable, at any age, than we give it credit for. But the reason it doesn’t feel that way is because there are hundreds, thousands even, of memories that over time we’ve edited and strung together in very particular ways which, more of less, lock in our perspectives and create what feels like automatic responses and reflexes to new situations and new information.
We call that framework of stories our personality. And it all feels very solid and predetermined, like the architecture of a house. Ah, but there it is … I am in the business of altering the seemingly immoveable architecture of your house. I am aware, not only of how powerful a story the architecture of a home can be, but how changeable that architecture can be. Your stories, your personality, like your home’s personality, can be remodeled—transformed. The science is in and it turns out you can teach an old dog new tricks.
It’s not a question of whether we edit our memories to make our stories and if our stories shape us. We do, and they do. The real questions are: What stories are we building from our memories? Why have we strung our memories together in that particular way? And are we truly happy with the effect those stories are having?
In the end we can, if we want, ask the ultimate question of the stories we write for ourselves, the perspectives we so vehemently defend, even the personality we feel we have no control over … How’s that working out for you?
How’s that working out for you? One of life’s all time most useful questions. It has a way of cutting right through the all the arguments and diversions and excuses and holds up an often uncomfortable mirror whose reflection you cannot escape.
How’s that working out for you? I’ve been asked that question at a few critical moments in my life and I have to say, each time the answer has been uncomfortable, sometimes embarrassing, but always ultimately life-transforming.
Our stories are powerful magic. So powerful that it’s easy to fall under their spell and be convinced there’s no changing them. But you can.
In the same way we remodel and radically transform the personality of a house, you can remodel and transform a personality. I’m not saying it will be easy. It takes time, attention and intent. You have to know what you’re after, because design matter most. There are things to learn. Things to do. Fixtures will be tossed. Veneers will be stripped away. Walls will move. For a time you may feel like you’re living in the chaos of a construction zone. And it’s going to cost—money, time, relationships, pride. I don’t know what, but it’s going to cost.
So the lesson today is simple: You can. You can change. And when you change, everything changes.
“I am who I am, Dean.” Ok. How’s that working out for you? It’s just a question. But if you’re brave enough to give it an honest answer you might just discover the truth … that you can change you and, even now, build yourself beautiful life.