We are behavior machines. Observed from our POV, from inside us, our lives are oceanic and operatic, the deepest story we can know. Movies run their characters through madly overheated plots just to be able to tell us a story of external events that is of comparable intensity to the experience of our inner lives. Opera uses extremely dramatic music that translates emotionally to the intensity of a normal inner life being lived. Our lives are magic bags, bigger inside than out.

As individuals, we arrive here loaded like treasure galleons with personality, attitude, and latent loves and hates. As babies, we appear to people around us as simple proto-adults, nearly homogenous: The site of a future human being. But our parents can see our hot and cold feelings, and see our patterns develop like old photographs.  A coherent narrative takes shape in the styles and passions we show as we grow. We develop through our own experiences, a bit, but not nearly as much as we reveal ourselves. What we already are, becomes visible. We ourselves are part of the audience for this uncovering, we stumble on hard facts of who we are like plot twists. These are the unexpected truths of growing. Our personal executive-style emerges from this dense core of individuality and we advance,  leaving a culminating trail of decisions like footprints in the snow. So our trajectory becomes clear, looking back, things we struggled over seem inevitable. Continue reading →