In Thursday’s MindShifting class, Jane Lyons taught why more information rarely solves problems.

Jane’s segment focused on how stories and scripts in our minds shape what we see as “reality” and drive our behavior, often without our awareness. She described how, when something happens—like sensing someone’s mood or facing a difficult task—we quickly construct a story to explain it. That story then becomes the “reason” we feel or act a certain way. For example, when she notices someone seems upset, her default internal story is “I must have done something wrong,” and she mentally scans for what she might have done. In essence, we’re “swimming in an ocean of stories and scripts,” and when we follow them, we are not engaging our creative or critical thinking parts of the brain.

Drawing on Shirzad Chamine’s and Phil Stutz’s work, Jane introduced the idea of Part X or saboteurs—a judgmental inner voice that wants to preserve the status quo, keep us small, and stop us from changing or taking risks.

Part X uses stories to attack us no matter what we choose. She shared an example about a grief counselor who belonged to a support group, that wasn’t really motivating her anymore. She had three reasonable options about staying in or leaving a support group: stay, leave, or talk to them. Whatever option she considered, her inner dialog criticized her as weak, selfish, or indecisive. How many of us have inner critics who knock us down no matter what we decide to do?

How did the counselor interrupt this pattern: she practiced mindfulness (breathing, quieting the noise), then listened to her “heart and gut” and made a decision from that calmer place. When Part X resumed its criticism, she named it (“that’s Part X”) and laughed at it, which reduced its power. Two key techniques Jane highlighted were: (1) mindfulness to quiet the saboteur, and (2) explicitly labeling it (“that’s my saboteur, I don’t have to listen”) to distance yourself from it.

From there, Jane distinguished two main ways stories operate around our actions. In one pattern, we act first (driven by our limbic scripts), and then our higher brain invents a story to justify what we already did. In the other, we retrieve a familiar story about some type of event, and then act according to that story—so the story precedes and shapes the behavior. Either way, once we accept a story and have an action that “fits” it, any contradictory information feels like a threat, often triggering fight/flight/freeze reactions and shutting down our higher-order thinking.

This is why it can be so hard to change our own minds or others’ minds once a story is firmly in place. We can’t take in new information and we can’t adjust because we are stuck in fight/flight/freeze mode.

Jane then framed scripts as repeated, story-based patterns that our brains use to save energy. They’re like mental programs or habits: situations trigger them, and we respond automatically. She asked a volunteer to describe how she reacted to food cravings while dieting, and the volunteer said that she tells herself, “I’ll just have a little,” or “I’ll make it healthier with fruit” to justify the milkshake, chips, or whatever the food weakness is.

Jane then had the volunteer imagine that she had resisted the impulse, Jane prompted her to consider what she felt and how she resisted. When the volunteer imagined resisting the temptation, she imagined that she told herself “I can do it.” When she envisioned herself resisting, she felt triumphant.

Jane pointed out that she was changing her story, moving from “I can’t resist” to “I can resist,” and creating a new script she can use next time. By feeling what it is like to celebrate, her “small victories,” she reinforced the alternative story and would gradually rewire her default scripts.

This is how to build new behaviors to replace the ones that aren’t serving us.

Jane also broadened the idea to classroom and societal stories. Phrases like “this student is difficult” or “this teacher doesn’t like me” become scripts that shape how teachers and students treat each other: the student becomes a “problem,” or the teacher is perceived as hostile, and behavior follows the story.

At a larger scale, she contrasted two big societal narratives: “It’s a competitive world, survival of the fittest, get what you can” versus “Humans are stewards of the world and thrive through cooperation”. Neither is pure “reality”; both are stories. But whichever story we believe becomes our reality and dictates our actions (for instance, whether we share our lunch with someone who has none). Recognizing that these are stories—not absolute truth—gives us the flexibility to choose different, more constructive narratives.

Finally, Jane emphasized that awareness is the first step. Once we notice we’re running a script—whether it’s self-criticism, assumptions about others, or broad cultural narratives—we can pause, question it, and deliberately write a different script. This is metacognition in action: using our prefrontal cortex to examine and revise the stories our limbic system is running on autopilot. Over time, that practice helps us be more flexible, innovative, and compassionate—toward ourselves and toward others who are also trapped in their own scripts.

If you want to dig deeper into stories and scripts, and how to replace the ones that aren’t serving you, you might want to consider reading the book MindShifting: Stop Your Brain from Sabotaging Your Happiness and Success.