An interesting thing happens when we start to question and investigate in an open, curious, and systematic way who we are and where we are going. Do we actually know with any clarity or certainty who we are, or are we simply creating a gigantic and usually convincing (up to a point) narrative for ourselves that we live inside of without examining?
When the story seems to be going well, perhaps we feel happy and have a sense of moving full speed ahead into whatever is next. But if the narrative takes a different turn because conditions change or because, perhaps from early childhood, it has been a story with major elements of sadness, abuse, neglect, or not having been seen, then our internal narrative might be one of being inadequate, unworthy, unloveable, or unintelligent — or in which there’s no real hope for us.
What mindfulness can do to help in such circumstances is very simple. It reminds us that this internal narration of ours is entirely based on thought. It is a construct, a fabrication that we have gotten comfortable with. It may be an amazing, convincing, absorbing story a good deal of the time. It may also at turns be horrific or boringly normal. But it is a confabulation all the same.