Life has no script.

And that's either terrifying or liberating.

“We are not actors in any larger-than-life drama. Life has no script, no playwright, no director, no producer – and no meaning.” ~ Yuval Noah Harari

Do you write a personal script for living your own life story?

Although it feels like a reasonable query (there’s your Wordle word for tomorrow), it’s actually quite absurd. A script is a blueprint that outlines the dialogue, actions, and other instructions for a performance, such as a play or movie.

The scriptwriter is, in essence, telling everyone involved (and everything) where to be, how to look, what to do and say, and how to feel, in order to create the illusion of the scriptwriter’s subjective rendering of life.

Again, it’s absurd. It’s a mechanistic fantasy, made up of familiar and programmed parts. It is not life, in all of it’s amazing interconnectedness and dynamism. So when you say that you are writing your own “script” or “story,” you’re actually creating an absurd illusion… in your own mind.

And what happens when your illusion is violated, when reality bumps up against your vision and expectations?

Welcome to today’s mercurial world.

The complex interplay of modern life—societal diversity, economic uncertainty, technological advancements, and environmental concerns—has disturbed people’s reassuring mental scripts and triggered their nervous systems to an unprecedented degree.

And being conditioned for comfort, human beings have turned in droves to mechanisms like entertainment, group identities, therapy, antidepressants, and food and substances, in order to cope.

There is another way.

There has been a recent explosion in meditation and mindfulness practices as people look for better ways to manage isolation, anxiety and stress.

Meditation is an ancient and proven way to reduce racing thoughts and promote relaxation. In addition, through introspection it fosters greater self-awareness, which leads to better emotional regulation.

Mindfulness is described as a state of awareness that involves deliberately observing one’s thoughts, feelings, bodily sensations, and surroundings without trying to change or judge them.

While meditation is a form of focused attention to achieve a state of mental calm, mindfulness is an all-inclusive, embodied, and lively state of being.

True mindfulness is scriptless living—dancing with the unknown rather than clinging to certainty. It’s not deliberate observing, but full and visceral engagement in one’s environment. It’s a way of being that takes in what is encountered with an open and active spirit, while also being and doing what authentically moves you to enliven the situation without caring whether it happens or not.

Mindfulness is improv!

The problem is that most of us have been conditioned out of that childlike way of being. Instead, we’re seriously self-concerned, automatically thinking, planning, and reacting to our unconscious scripts—what we think should be happening and what we have to do to be good, right, accepted, successful, and secure.

I’m pretty sure I don’t have to point out those scripts to you. You can feel them whenever you say, do or encounter something unexpected—with others or with yourself—which creates absurd thoughts and expressions like, “It shouldn’t be that way,” “That’s not like him or her,” and “I wasn’t being myself.”

I’ve felt those scripts my entire life, and I’m now fully aware of them. I understand where they come from and why, and so although I may still feel them on occasion, they have very little impact on my way of being.

They were (and often still are) subtly communicated by people in my life (other than my father, because he was never subtle) whenever I did or said anything unexpected—anything new and different that deviated from their scripts.

“You’re doing what?! I thought you were (fill in the blank stare).”

It reminds me of this short poem by Yeats:

The friends that have it I do wrong
Whenever I remake a song,
Should know what issue is at stake:
It is myself that I remake.

The enemies of life.

I’ve noticed that many people I know have stopped remaking their songs. They’re unwittingly shrinking life by obsessively trying to predict and plan it out, just like cast members acting out their well-rehearsed scripts. No introspective downtime. No wandering around. No spontaneity. Nothing truly unexpected or new (other than hairstyles and tattoos).

It appears that they have succumbed to the true enemies of life: certainty and comfort. They’ve accepted their roles and are no longer compelled to be who they really are, and to want and do what they really want.

If you want to fully experience the wild and precious ride of existence—and without the dizziness that comes with personal freedom—just do improv. In times of rapid change and transformation it’s the only sensible way to live: know how you want to be, in all situations, and then be that way… whatever draws you in or happens to unfold in your life.

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Stay passionate!