How are we held back by our beliefs in ways we don’t know?

Lately I see the need and benefit of revising my narratives in multiple life domains.  I have told the same stories about certain people and situations for many years, unwavering tales of personality, action, inaction, motivation, and interaction that have largely defined many of my relationships. 
I will be necessarily cryptic here for privacy, and I think my point will still come across.

In the beginning of anything—life, dating, parenting, work—we have formative encounters and experiences that shape our views and behaviors in that realm.  The longer we live, the more our beliefs in each domain intermingle and influence those in others.  We make meaning from our perceptions in real time, integrating current context and past experiences, consciously and sub/unconsciously.  Our worldviews about risk/reward, cost/benefit, justice/mercy, love, responsibility, accountability, and myriad other ideas form early, implicitly at least as much as explicitly.  What’s more, we rationalize everything, justifying opinions and positions with apparently sound and reasoned logic, often not recognizing the irrational, emotional, relational, and sometimes delusional origins of our beliefs.  The most confident, articulate, and clever of us convey our rationalizations so convincingly we persuade not just ourselves, but many of those around us how right we are. 

“I’m not good enough.”
“He’s a narcissist.”
“She always plays the victim.”
“Everything I love gets taken away eventually.”
“All men hurt women.”
“No one can have it all; we must choose between family and work.”
“Anyone who votes for xxx is crazy and a danger to society.”

How true are the beliefs expressed in these statements?
For each one that you may not believe, how many do, wholeheartedly and unquestioningly, even if unconsciously?  How does this impact our interactions with the people and contexts around us?

What statements and stories do you profess consistently?  How true are they, if you are honest?  How have they served you?  How do they not?  What would happen if you revised or refuted any of them? 

This all came up for me this weekend after a two-day workshop on character development and backstory by Emily Golden and Rachel May of Tenacious Writing and Goldenmay editing and coaching.  Focusing on backstory, the workshop demonstrated the relationship between a character’s ‘internal goal’ (the thing they most want in life) and their ‘internal obstacle belief’ (the thing they think will get them to their goal but is actually the barrier they must overcome).  It reminded me of how Nancy Duarte describes the most effective presentations as mirrors of the Hero’s Journey: We are called to adventure and initially refuse.  We are comfortable where we are, why move?  Events then ensue that force us to stand up and engage.  Yet we are still reluctant.  We are shown what could be.  We believe for a moment, then revert to what is—that which we know and have lived—no matter how dysfunctional or destructive.  It takes repeated encounters with what could be, support and challenge from those we trust (or not), to make us see that we must change our mindset, outlook and behavior.  It takes time, effort, disruption of the status quo, and often no small amount of pain.

The value of fiction is that it mirrors humanity in ways that allow us to see myriad human foibles with empathy and compassion.  It’s the protagonists who must overcome their own internal obstacles—we root for them and rejoice in their triumphs at the happy endings.  We want them to succeed, to discard delusion and open their eyes to truth and reconciliation. 

How often do we allow ourselves to acknowledge and have grace for our own flaws?  How can we get more comfortable with self-honesty and -exploration?  How can we better embrace and exercise the vulnerability and courage to recognize how our stories about ourselves and others no longer serve us, and embark on, commit to, the journey of work to revise them for the better? 

The ultimate reward, the worthy triumph of this work is connection, as always.  The better our stories, the more understanding, mutual respect, harmony, and collaboration we can achieve, the better all our lives could be.