"We stay wrapped in our stories — securely placed inside our capsules — so we can hold on to the comfort of what we know and rest in the safe and familiar feelings of being at home. When life gets difficult and we begin to confront the pain of our own limitations or the disappointment of living below our self-imposed standards, at least we can count on one thing: the predictability of our stories. Our stories give us something and someone to identify with. The worst feeling for a human being is to feel like a "nothing," that our lives and our individual existences don't matter. Most of us would much rather endure being an unlovable person than someone who is completely invisible. So, in a desperate attempt to give our lives meaning, we create and then repeat our stories; and as we cling to who we think we are, we perpetuate our dramas. Then, gradually and unwittingly, we actually become our dramas. We act out our stories and carry them around like badges of honor. We become invested in keeping our stories alive, and in the process we unknowingly become victims of the stories we created to protect our secret: We become victims of life.
"When we recognize that we have identified ourselves with our stories and not with our broader, deeper, truer selves, our first impulse is to just get rid of the story. But because we have become our stories and have allowed them to dictate the scope and course of our lives, a scary question arises: If we aren't our stories, who are we? Outside our stories, life feels scary and uncontrollable."
