Want to Change Your Life? Write Yourself a New Script!
“I am a man who loves to starting new things. I have great ideas. At the same time, I lack the discipline required to finish projects, I can leave that to others. When there are no ‘others’ to finish what I’ve started, I tend to put that project on hold as I move on to my next exciting new idea.” Sound familiar? Do you know anyone like this? This has been my truth for as long as I can remember. It accurately describes my past, and regularly predicts my future. This is my personality type — or so I’ve told myself.
Then, not long ago, a radical thought occurred to me: “What if this ‘starter’ identity is only a story I tell myself? What if this story does not belong on the history shelf, but rather in the theater department?” In other words, what if I am not really an historian, faithfully laying down, for the record, the truth about my personality, describing events in the past? What if I am really a playwright, writing for myself a script, a draft of which was handed to me during some lost past? Is it possible that I have been performing in a play of my own creation, directing the work, then awarding myself an imaginary Tony for best lead actor? If so, could I write, then act in a different script?
I decided to test the hypothesis. Stepping out of my historical identity, I decided to write a new play, one in which I would act for one week. Keeping the timeframe limited to seven days increased the possibility that I might stick to the play. The new script had to be something quickly memorized and easily rehearsed. I chose a single line: “I am a man who finishes what he starts!”
Of course, as an assertion, this statement was blatantly false, my personal “fake news”. I have not been that man. The ugly truth is that I have been a man who starts one thing, gets bored, starts another, then another, usually starting then abandoning many things simultaneously. Call me “the multitasker.” For a time, it seemed productive. Look how many projects I’m involved in. Look at how much I can accomplish simultaneously. Of course, my desk, my workshop, my house, my yard, and my career all resemble junkyards, cluttered with projects started then laid aside. Have you ever lived in a junkyard, or worse, on a garbage dump? It’s a painful residence, really. Having so many open circuits drains away energy, and corrodes self-esteem. But, according to my historical personality type, that was the hand dealt me by the card game of life. I was a ‘starter.’ That’s what I believed.
Now, for a week, I was about to challenge this typology. For seven short days, I would live according to a different script. Rather than believe my old story as gospel, I was about to repeat, then act out a new script: “I am a man who finishes what he starts.” It isn’t Shakespeare, but it is a role I wanted to play. Starting on day one, every time I felt tempted to drop what I was doing and go on to some new project, I would catch myself and freeze. At that moment of present awareness I would ask: “Have you finished what you started?” At first I applied it to little things — taking out the trash, for example. It sounds simple. But every room has a waste basket. Get them all consolidated into a single bag, and deposited in the rubbish can, which goes up to the street. Then a clean 30-gallon bag goes into the kitchen trashcan. “Do all the steps. Finish what you start.” Sounds easy, but for a man addicted to multi-tasking, holding that simple discipline felt like climbing Mount Everest.
I soldiered on, every day a new rehearsal, followed by the play’s performance. I discovered in myself, a ruthless director. No excuses. If the scene went sideways I would cut, then retake the performance until I had accurately lived into my new role. At my age it isn’t easy breaking old habits, substituting unfamiliar ones. But with curiosity and determination I found that the new role suited me.
Little by little I began to organize the junkyard. More importantly, I found myself accomplishing more by attempting less. It feels liberating to lay my head down at night knowing that I have finished the projects set out for the day. Of course, there will always be more to do tomorrow. Complex projects are not finished in a single day. But after my week of experimentation, I gained the knowledge that I can be a man who finishes what he starts. My history proved not to be my destiny.
Leaving things unfinished, being a “starter” may not be your script. Perhaps you tell yourself that you eat too much, or that you don’t like exercise, or that you are a bad parent. Whatever the script, if it is getting you results that you find distasteful, throw it in the trash. Write a new one. The important and challenging point is to recognize that the scripts we play have often been assigned to us in childhood, serving the needs of those around us. If these old scripts don’t serve us as adults, we have the power to write new ones that better meets our needs.
We celebrate the great actors of our time for their ability to assume roles and give a convincing performances. We loose sight of the fact that we too are playing roles. Because we did not audition for our original roles, we may not recognize them as roles at all. We may not realize that someone else cast us as ‘the family clown’ or ‘not to be taken seriously’.
Not long ago I made a mistake, did something contrary to my intention. Out of my own mouth came the words: “What an idiot you are! How can you be so stupid?” Whose voice was that judging me? While I have a good guess, what matters is that I see that the role of ‘idiot’ and ‘stupid’ have a suffocating impact. If believed, I could act those roles to my dying day. Thanks to this little experiment, I’ve discovered the joy of writing for myself new scripts, filled with compassion and confidence.
Perhaps you could too.
