-
So I'm going to talk
about photosynthesis today.
-
No, I'm actually not going to talk
about photosynthesis,
-
I'm the only non-DuPont person here,
-
and I thought I should try
to be a little sciency.
-
It's all I've got -- Krebs cycle,
molecules, I don't know.
-
(Laughter)
-
I'm going to start
by telling you about an email
-
that I saw in my inbox recently.
-
Now, I have a pretty unusual inbox,
-
because I'm a therapist
-
and I write an advice column
called "Dear Therapist,"
-
so you can imagine what's in there.
-
I mean, I've read thousands
of very personal letters
-
from strangers all over the world.
-
And these letters range
from heartbreak and loss,
-
to spats with parents or siblings.
-
I keep them in a folder on my laptop,
-
and I've named it
"The Problems of Living."
-
So, I get this email,
I get lots of emails just like this,
-
and I want to bring you
into my world for a second
-
and read you one of these letters.
-
And here's how it goes.
-
"Dear Therapist,
-
I've been married for 10 years
-
and things were good
until a couple of years ago.
-
That's when my husband
stopped wanting to have sex as much,
-
and now we barely have sex at all."
-
I'm sure you guys were not expecting this.
-
(Laughter)
-
"Well, last night, I discovered
that for the past few months,
-
he's been secretly having
long, late-night phone calls
-
with a woman at his office.
-
I googled her, and she's gorgeous.
-
I can't believe this is happening.
-
My father had an affair
with a coworker when I was young,
-
and it broke our family apart.
-
Needless to say, I'm devastated.
-
If I stay in this marriage,
-
I'll never be able
to trust my husband again.
-
But I don't want to put our kids
through a divorce,
-
stepmom situation, etc.
-
What should I do?"
-
Well, what do you think she should do?
-
If you got this letter,
-
you might be thinking
about how painful infidelity is.
-
Or maybe about how especially
painful it is here,
-
because of her experience
growing up with her father.
-
And like me, you'd probably
have some empathy for this woman,
-
and you might even have some,
-
how should I put this nicely,
-
let's just call them "not-so-positive"
feelings for her husband.
-
Now, those are the kinds of things
that go through my mind too,
-
when I'm reading
these letters in my inbox.
-
But I have to be really careful
when I respond to these letters,
-
because I know that every letter I get
is actually just a story
-
written by a specific author.
-
And that another version
of this story also exists.
-
It always does.
-
And I know this,
-
because if I've learned
anything as a therapist,
-
it's that we are all unreliable
narrators of our own lives.
-
I am.
-
You are.
-
And so is everyone you know.
-
Which I probably shouldn't have told you,
-
because now you're not
going to believe my TED talk.
-
Look, I don't mean
that we purposely mislead.
-
Most of what people tell me
is absolutely true,
-
just from their current points of view.
-
Depending on what
they emphasize or minimize,
-
what they leave in, what they leave out,
-
what they see and want me to see,
-
they tell their stories
in a particular way.
-
The psychologist Jerome Bruner
described this beautifully -- he said,
-
"To tell a story is, inescapably,
to take a moral stance."
-
All of us walk around
with stories about our lives.
-
Why choices were made,
why things went wrong,
-
why we treated someone a certain way --
-
because obviously, they deserved it --
-
why someone treated us a certain way --
-
even though, obviously, we didn't.
-
Stories are the way
we make sense of our lives.
-
But what happens when the stories we tell
-
are misleading or incomplete
or just wrong?
-
Well, instead of providing clarity,
-
these stories keep us stuck.
-
We assume that our circumstances
shape our stories.
-
But what I found time and again in my work
-
is that the exact opposite happens.
-
The way we narrate our lives
shapes what they become.
-
That's the danger of our stories,
-
because they can really mess us up,
-
but it's also their power.
-
Because what it means
is that if we can change our stories,
-
then we can change our lives.
-
And today, I want to show you how.
-
Now, I told you I'm a therapist,
-
and I really am, I'm not being
an unreliable narrator.
-
But if I'm, let's say, on an airplane,
-
and someone asks what I do,
-
I usually say I'm an editor.
-
And I say that partly
because if I say I'm a therapist,
-
I always get some awkward response, like,
-
"Oh, a therapist.
-
Are you going to psychoanalyze me?"
-
And I'm thinking, "A -- no,
-
and B -- why would I do that here?
-
If I said I was a gynecologist,
-
would you ask if I were
about to give you a pelvic exam?"
-
(Laughter)
-
But the main reason I say I'm an editor
-
is because it's true.
-
Now, it's the job of all therapists
to help people edit,
-
but what's interesting
about my specific role as Dear Therapist
-
is that when I edit,
I'm not just editing for one person.
-
I'm trying to teach a whole group
of readers how to edit,
-
using one letter each week as the example.
-
So I'm thinking about things like,
-
"What material is extraneous?"
-
"Is the protagonist moving forward
or going in circles,
-
are the supporting characters important
or are they a distraction?"
-
"Do the plot points reveal a theme?"
-
And what I've noticed
-
is that most people's stories
tend to circle around two key themes.
-
The first is freedom,
-
and the second is change.
-
And when I edit,
-
those are the themes that I start with.
-
So, let's take a loot
at freedom for a second.
-
Our stories about freedom go like this:
-
We believe, in general,
-
that we have an enormous
amount of freedom.
-
Except when it comes
to the problem at hand,
-
in which case suddenly,
we feel like we have none.
-
Many of our stories
are about feeling trapped, right?
-
We feel imprisoned
by our families, our jobs,
-
our relationships, our pasts.
-
Sometimes, we even imprison ourselves
with a narrative of self-flagellation --
-
I know you guys all know these stories.
-
The "everyone's life
is better than mine" story,
-
courtesy of social media.
-
The "I'm an impostor" story,
the "I'm unlovable" story,
-
the "nothing will ever
work out for me" story.
-
The "when I say, 'Hey, Siri, '
and she doesn't answer,
-
that means she hates me" story.
-
I see you, see, I'm not the only one.
-
The woman who wrote me that letter,
-
she also feels trapped.
-
If she stays with her husband,
she'll never trust him again,
-
but if she leaves,
her children will suffer.
-
Now, there's a cartoon
that I think is a perfect example
-
of what's really going on
in these stories.
-
The cartoon shows a prisoner
shaking the bars,
-
desperately trying to get out.
-
But on the right and the left, it's open.
-
No bars.
-
The prisoner isn't in jail.
-
That's most of us.
-
We feel completely trapped,
-
stuck in our emotional jail cells.
-
But we don't walk
around the bars to freedom,
-
because we know there's a catch.
-
Freedom comes with responsibility.
-
And if we take responsibility
for our role in the story,
-
we might just have to change.
-
And that's the other common theme
that I see in our stories, change.
-
Those stories sound like this:
-
a person says, "I want to change."
-
But what they really mean is
-
"I want another character
in the story to change."
-
Therapists describe this dilemma as:
-
"If the queen had balls,
she'd be the king."
-
I mean --
-
(Laughter)
-
It makes no sense, right?
-
Why wouldn't we want the protagonist,
-
who's the hero of the story, to change?
-
Well, it might be because change,
-
even really positive change,
-
involves a surprising amount of loss.
-
Loss of the familiar.
-
Even if the familiar is unpleasant
or utterly miserable,
-
at least we know the characters
and setting and plot,
-
right down to the recurring
dialogue in this story.
-
"You never do the laundry!"
-
"I did it last time!"
-
"Oh, yeah? When?"
-
There's something oddly comforting
-
about knowing exactly
how the story is going to go
-
every single time.
-
To write a new chapter
is to venture into the unknown.
-
It's to stare at a blank page.
-
And as any writer will tell you,
-
there's nothing more terrifying
than a blank page.
-
But here's the thing.
-
Once we edit our story,
-
the next chapter
becomes much easier to write.
-
We talk so much in our culture
about getting to know ourselves.
-
But part of getting to know yourself
is to unknow yourself.
-
To let go of the one version of the story
you've been telling yourself
-
so that you can live your life,
-
and not the story
that you've been telling yourself
-
about your life.
-
And that's how we walk around those bars.
-
So I want to go back to the letter
from the woman, about the affair.
-
She asked me what she should do.
-
Now, I have this word
taped up in my office:
-
ultracrepidarianism.
-
The habit of giving advice or opinions
outside of one's knowledge or competence.
-
It's a great word, right?
-
You can use it in all different contexts,
-
I'm sure you will be using it
after this TED talk.
-
I use it because it reminds me
that as a therapist,
-
I can help people to sort out
what they want to do,
-
but I can't make
their life choices for them.
-
Only you can write your story,
-
and all you need are some tools.
-
So what I want to do,
-
is I want to edit this woman's letter
together, right here,
-
as a way to show
how we can all revise our stories.
-
And I want to start by asking you
-
to think of a story
that you're telling yourself right now
-
that might not be serving you well.
-
It might be about a circumstance
you're experiencing,
-
it might be about a person in your life,
-
it might even be about yourself.
-
And I want you to look
at the supporting characters.
-
Who are the people who are helping you
-
to uphold the wrong version of this story?
-
For instance, if the woman
who wrote me that letter
-
told her friends what happened,
-
they would probably offer her
what's called "idiot compassion."
-
Now, in idiot compassion,
we go along with the story,
-
we say, "You're right, that's so unfair,"
-
when a friend tells us that he didn't
get the promotion he wanted,
-
even though we know this has happened
several times before,
-
because he doesn't really
put in the effort,
-
and he probably
also steals office supplies.
-
(Laughter)
-
We say, "Yeah, you're right, he's a jerk,"
-
when a friend tells us
that her boyfriend broke up with her,
-
even though we know
that there are certain ways
-
she tends to behave in relationships,
-
like the incessant texting
or the going through his drawers,
-
that tend to lead to this outcome.
-
We see the problem, it's like,
-
if a fight breaks out
in every bar you're going to,
-
it might be you.
-
(Laughter)
-
In order to be good editors,
we need to offer wise compassion,
-
not just to our friends, but to ourselves.
-
This is what's called --
I think the technical term might be --
-
"delivering compassionate truth bombs."
-
And these truth bombs are compassionate,
-
because they help us to see
what we've left out of the story.
-
The truth is,
-
we don't know if this woman's husband
is having an affair,
-
or why their sex life
changed two years ago,
-
or what those late-night
phone calls are really about.
-
And it might be
that because of her history,
-
she's writing a singular
story of betrayal,
-
but there's probably something else
-
that she's not willing
to let me, in her letter,
-
or maybe even herself, to see.
-
It's like that guy
who's taking a Rorschach test.
-
You all know what Rorschach tests are?
-
A psychologist shows you some ink blots,
they look like that,
-
and asks, "What do you see?"
-
So the guy looks
at his ink blot and he says,
-
"Well, I definitely don't see blood."
-
And the examiner says,
-
"Alright, tell me what else
you definitely don't see."
-
In writing, this is called point of view.
-
What is the narrator not willing to see?
-
So, I want to read you one more letter.
-
And it goes like this.
-
"Dear Therapist,
-
I need help with my wife.
-
Lately, everything I do irritates her,
-
even small things, like the noise
I make when I chew.
-
At breakfast,
-
I noticed that she even tries
to secretly put extra milk in my granola
-
so it won't be as crunchy."
-
(Laughter)
-
"I feel like she became critical of me
after my father died two years ago.
-
I was very close with him,
-
and her father left when she was young,
-
so she couldn't relate
to what I was going through.
-
There's a friend at work
whose father died a few months ago,
-
and who understand my grief.
-
I wish I could talk to my wife
like I talk to my friend,
-
but I feel like she barely
tolerates me now.
-
How can I get my wife back?"
-
OK.
-
So, what you probably picked up on
-
is that this is the same story
I read you earlier,
-
just told from another
narrator's point of view.
-
Her story was about
a husband who's cheating,
-
his story is about a wife
who can't understand his grief.
-
But what's remarkable,
is that for all of their differences,
-
what both of these stories are about
is a longing for connection.
-
And if we can get out
of the first person narration
-
and write the story
from another character's perspective,
-
suddenly that other character
becomes much more sympathetic,
-
and the plot opens up.
-
That's the hardest step
in the editing process,
-
but it's also where change begins.
-
What would happen
if you looked at your story
-
and wrote it from another
person's point of view?
-
What would you see now
from this wider perspective?
-
That's why, when I see people
who are depressed,
-
I sometimes say,
-
"You are not the best person
to talk to you about you right now,"
-
because depression distorts our stories
in a very particular way.
-
It narrows our perspectives.
-
The same is true when we feel
lonely or hurt or rejected.
-
We create all kinds of stories,
-
distorted through a very narrow lens
-
that we don't even know
we're looking through.
-
And then, we've effectively become
our own fake-news broadcasters.
-
I have a confession to make.
-
I wrote the husband's version
of the letter I read you.
-
You have no idea how much time I spent
-
debating between granola
and pita chips, by the way.
-
I wrote it based on all
of the alternative narratives
-
that I've seen over the years,
-
not just in my therapy practice,
but also in my column.
-
When it's happened
-
that two people involved
in the same situation
-
have written to me,
unbeknownst to the other,
-
and I have two versions of the same story
-
sitting in my inbox.
-
That really has happened.
-
I don't know what the other version
of this woman's letter is,
-
but I do know this:
-
she has to write it.
-
Because with a courageous edit,
-
she'll write a much more nuanced version
of her letter that she wrote to me.
-
Even if her husband
is having an affair of any kind --
-
and maybe he is --
-
she doesn't need to know
what the plot is yet.
-
Because just by virtue of doing an edit,
-
she'll have so many more possibilities
for what the plot can become.
-
Now, sometimes it happens
that I see people who are really stuck,
-
and they're really invested
in their stuckness.
-
We call them help-rejecting complainers.
-
I'm sure you know people like this.
-
They are the people who,
when you try to offer them a suggestion,
-
they reject it with, "Yeah, no,
that will never work, because ..."
-
"Yeah, no, that's impossible,
because I can't do that."
-
"Yeah, I really want more friends,
but people are just so annoying."
-
(Laughter)
-
What they're really rejecting
-
is an edit to their story
of misery and stuckness.
-
And so, with these people,
I usually take a different approach.
-
And what I do is I say something else.
-
I say to them,
-
"We're all going to die."
-
I bet you're really glad
I'm not your therapist right now.
-
Because they look back at me
-
the way you're looking back
at me right now,
-
with this look of utter confusion.
-
But then I explain that there's a story
-
that gets written
about all of us, eventually.
-
It's called an obituary.
-
And I say that instead of being
authors of our own unhappiness,
-
we get to shape these stories
while we're still alive.
-
We get to be the hero
and not the victim in our stories,
-
we get to choose what goes on the page
that lives in our minds
-
and shapes our realities.
-
I tell them that life is about deciding
which stories to listen to
-
and which ones need an edit.
-
And that it's worth the effort
to go through a revision,
-
because there's nothing more important
to the quality of our lives
-
than the stories
we tell ourselves about them.
-
I say that when it comes
to the stories of our lives,
-
we should be aiming for our own
personal Pulitzer Prize.
-
Now, most of us aren't
help-rejecting complainers,
-
or at least we don't believe we are.
-
But it's a role
that is so easy to slip into
-
when we feel anxious
or angry or vulnerable.
-
So the next time
you're struggling with something,
-
remember,
-
we're all going to die.
-
(Laughter)
-
And then pull out your editing tools
-
and ask yourself,
-
what do I want my story to be?
-
And then, go write your masterpiece.
-
Thank you.
-
(Applause)