The stories I tell myself hold a powerful sway over my memories, behaviors, beliefs, and values. Collectively, these stories are telling me who I am. Forget my physical body, it’s not the essence of what I am. Forget my blood, bones, muscles, fat and genes and cells. They’re not what I am. Rather instead, I am my stories, the accumulation of experiences that I have fashioned into my own epic, sweeping narrative. I am the events and people and places to which I have assigned symbolic meaning.
Oh, the drama of it all.