The world is made of stories, not of atoms. –Muriel Rukeyser
There is a world of atoms (the physical world or so-called objective reality). But that’s not the world we inhabit. It isn’t even possible for us to inhabit that world—at least not directly.
Even if all our senses are intact and our brain is functioning normally, we do not have direct access to the physical world. It may feel as if we have direct access, but this is an illusion created by our brain. –Chris Frith, Professor in Neuropsychology, University College London
And…
Asleep vision (dreaming) is perception that is not tied down to anything in the real world; waking perception is something like dreaming with a little more commitment to what’s in front of you. –David Eagleman, Incognito
The world we actually inhabit is made up of the stories we construct about the objects, events, and people in the physical world. Our stories are based on our impressions and perceptions of what’s out there. The problem is that we treat our impressions and perceptions—and the stories based on them—as if they are real and true.
The world of atoms constantly impacts us. And as it does, we are constantly interpreting, explaining, and assigning meaning to what happens. From moment-to-moment, we’re not aware of how much we don’t know, how much we’re missing, and how much high-speed processing our unconscious brain is doing to generate our impressions and perceptions.
We’re not robots or androids, nor would most of us choose to be. In Star Trek: The Next Generation, Lieutenant Commander Data was an android who inhabited the physical world and not the world of stories. He was superior to humans in a number of different ways. He didn’t make the kinds of mistakes people often make. Yet after spending time with humans, he opted to have an “emotion chip” installed so he could be more like us. He got a pet, an orange cat named Spot (who had no spots). There’s no logical reason to have a cat when you live on board a spaceship. Data’s cat signaled his entrance into the very human world of stories.
All of us, both individually and collectively, are driven to create and tell stories about our experience and then to believe that our stories represent reality. It’s how we make sense of life. The consequences can be amazing, amusing, or devastating. But whether our stories are good or bad, as long as we don’t recognize them for what they are, we’re imprisoned by them.
There is general, though not absolute, agreement that being reasonable is good and being unreasonable is bad. Depending on how you define the terms, however, you can find more than one way to parse the differences between them.
I tried being reasonable; I didn’t like it. –Clint Eastwood
Some of the most awake and alive experiences of my life have occurred while I was trying to do things that were so outrageously unreasonable they seemed impossible to accomplish. Apparently, I like challenges. But that may just be part of my temperament. I was never particularly reasonable, even as a child—some might say especially as a child.
Some synonyms for reasonable are: sensible, logical, rational, moderate, mild, well-balanced, agreeable, and fair.
Some synonyms for unreasonable are: excessive, immoderate, illogical, irrational, extravagant, extreme, wild, and unrestrained.
A reasonable person is considered to be prudent and cautious, someone who avoids extremes. But reasonable can also mean mediocre, ordinary, average, and tolerable. And unreasonable can mean bold, daring, audacious, exceptional, and unexpected. An unreasonable person may keep going even after reaching reasonable limits. An unreasonable person may have unreasonable expectations—of herself and of others.
The reasonable man adapts himself to the world; the unreasonable one persists in trying to adapt the world to himself. Therefore, all progress depends on the unreasonable man. [Or woman!] –George Bernard Shaw
Reasonable people tend to take fewer risks than unreasonable people take. Reasonable is often the safer course—but not always. Nor is it always the best course.
Dream no small dreams for they have no power to move the hearts of men. –Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Creativity and reasonableness often don’t mesh, since being reasonable requires a degree of cognitive inhibition, while some stages of creativity require cognitive disinhibition.
Certainly you aren’t likely to be faulted for being reasonable and for refusing to accept unreasonable demands, requests, or challenges.
But remember that when you aim for reasonable, then reasonable is probably the best you can hope to achieve.
Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life? –Mary Oliver
The human animal, like others, is adapted to a certain amount of struggle for life, and when by means of great wealth homo sapiens can gratify all his whims without effort, the mere absence of effort from his life removes an essential ingredient of happiness. The man who acquires easily things for which he feels only a very moderate desire concludes that the attainment of desire does not bring happiness. If he is of a philosophic disposition, he concludes that human life is essentially wretched, since the man who has all he wants is still unhappy. He forgets that to be without some of the things you want is an indispensable part of happiness. —Bertrand Russell, The Conquest of Happiness
Right now. Right this moment. What do you really want?
It sounds like a simple question, but it’s often a difficult one to answer. So instead of answering the question what do I want? we answer a different question, an easier one, such as
What do I need?
What do I want that I think I’m capable of getting?
What do I want that’s practical?
Some of those might seem like reasonable approaches, but they sidestep the actual question.
Identifying what you want isn’t an excursion into narcissism. The fact that so many of us are unable to answer this question with any degree of conviction doesn’t indicate we’re selfless beings who aren’t concerned with our own wants and desires. To the contrary, the less clarity we have about what we really want in life, the likelier we are to settle for—even grab at—whatever gratifies our immediate, short-term desires.
But it’s impossible to be truly satisfied if you don’t know what you really want.
In Thinking, Fast and Slow, Daniel Kahneman talks about this phenomenon of answering an easier question than the one that was asked.
If a satisfactory answer to a hard question is not found quickly, System 1 [the unconscious] will find a related question that is easier and will answer it. I call the operation of answering one question in place of another “substitution.”
Substituting an easier question for the question, what do I want? has consequences that can be deadly—or at least deadening. If you can’t allow yourself to identify what you want in life, you diminish your possibilities dramatically. You lose touch with yourself. Your view of the world becomes narrower. You settle for less. And maybe every once in a while you’re kind of unpleasant to be around.
Could you want something that’s impossible (or seems impossible) to have? Of course! Wanting isn’t synonymous with having. The act of wanting something won’t somehow magically bring it into being, no matter how hard you wish for it. On the other hand, if you don’t even know what you want, then you’ve pretty much guaranteed you won’t go after it. It’s unlikely that everything you want will be impossible for you to have. So why not be honest with yourself and acknowledge what you want, whether or not you think you can have it?
When you ask yourself this question, throw reasonableness out the window and try answering the hard question instead of an easier one. If you keep doing that, the hard question actually becomes easier because you don’t have to keep censoring yourself. If it turns out that you want impossible, improbable, barely imaginable, or highly unlikely things, congratulations! You’re already a winner.
30 Days
Here’s a simple exercise to help you uncover what you want:
For 30 days, preferably consecutive, write “What I really want” at the top of a blank page and then list 15-20 things that you want right then and there. They can be small, medium, or large; material or ephemeral; practical or pie-in-the sky. Don’t put an inordinate amount of thought into creating your list. Write down whatever occurs to you. Repetition is the key. Date your list. At the end of 30 days, you’re likely to have a pretty good idea of what’s important to you and what you want. If not, do the exercise for 30 more days.
