What if The Story Chooses You? (S2. Chapter 33)

Self-knowledge, identity, and Tao Te Ching Chapter 33: when knowing yourself isn’t peaceful, and the story shaping you may not be your own.

What if you don’t choose your story… what if it chooses you?

Chapter 33 of the Tao Te Ching tells us: “Knowing yourself is true wisdom.”
Simple, right? Slap it on a refrigerator magnet and call it enlightenment.

Not so fast.

This week, Lloyd Dobler wrestles with what happens when you look inside and don’t find the peaceful monk—you find the guy in the background of the monk’s Instagram story wondering if maybe… the table should be flipped.

From billion-dollar war economies to Broadway revolutionaries, from Alan Watts and the multiverse to the uncomfortable logic behind radical acts, Lloyd asks a question most of us avoid:

What if the distance between who you think you are and who you could become… is just a story you’ve tuned into?

Because if story plus belief plus repetition equals reality—then we’ve got a situation.

Once you’re inside the story…
you don’t choose your actions.

The story chooses you.

Transcript

Welcome back for Chapter 33. I'm Lloyd Dobler, and this is The Tao of Lloyd—the podcast where we take ancient spiritual wisdom, and remix it with late-stage America like a DJ spinning records at a party in a microwave of manifest Destiny. 
Ya get it? 
Simple right? 
Okay. 

In Chapter 32, we asked: What is our one demand? And I told you about the broken projector in 1996. How the movie stopped. How everybody panicked. How one old guy just sat there in the dark and said: "I come here to sit with other people and remember I'm not alone." Still one of the wisest things anyone has ever said to me in a room that smelled like teen spirit.

He knew who he was. And Chapter 33 of the Teo Te Ching, which I'll read for you in full momentarily, comes at us with this. "Knowing others is intelligence. Knowing yourself is true wisdom." 

Okay. Cool. Great. 
Slap that on a refrigerator magnet and call it a day? 

But here's the thing I'm wrestling with: What if you get to know yourself…and it turns out you're not the peaceful monk—you're the guy in the background of the monk's Instagram story thinking,"Yeah, but what if we flipped the table though?" 


Because I woke up today and  the world was like: "Hey Lloyd—quick pop quiz— what do you do when the story sounds like this: 
There's a war. 
There's oil. 
There are stock market trades—big ones—timed just a little too perfectly. 


And every 24 hours— another billion dollars or two, depending on who you ask evaporates into missiles, fuel, contracts, logistics, and somehow—somewhere—someone's portfolio is having a great week. 

I mean, when a war costs a billion dollars a day and the same system that funds it also trades on it…. you don't need a conspiracy theory. You need a mirror. 

And when you look in that mirror? What do you see? 

Do you see a system that needs reform or revolution? 
And in relationship to that system, who am I? Who are you?

Is this a revolutionary moment? I mean, America loves revolutionaries, don't we? I mean, we love them in our history books. On posters in college dorm rooms. We love them as represented in hip hop Broadway musicals— 

(channeling Lin-Manuel Miranda/Hamilton) 
"I am not throwing away my shot 
Hey yo, I'm just like my country I
'm young, scrappy, and hungry 
And I'm not throwing away my shot"

Most of us are much less Alexander Hamilton and much more Aaron Burr. We talk less. We smile more. We small talk at parties as we enjoy our fennel with the blue cheese and pecan topping and our pinot noir and some of us pay hundreds or even thousand dollars a ticket to cheer revolutionaries on Broadway who were fighting for, what? The taxes on the tea were too damn high. 

Which is incredible.

Because we don’t want revolution.

We want the feeling of revolution
with better lighting and assigned seating.

Perhaps we should enter or chapter reading and mediation.

(( Bell chime ))

This is Chapter 33 of the Tao Te Ching:

Knowing others is intelligence; 
knowing yourself is true wisdom. 
Mastering others is strength; 
mastering yourself is true power. 

If you realize that you have enough, 
you are truly rich. 
If you stay in the center 
and embrace death with your whole heart, 
you will endure forever.

And that was chapter 33 of the Tao Te Ching. 

So I’ve been thinking about the story of Cole Allen. Guy wakes up, writes a manifesto, loads his brain like it's a weaponized TED Talk—and somewhere in that story is the line: "I had to." 

And I want— I want— to be the guy who goes: "Nope. Absolutely not. Violence is not the answer.”

But then this other voice— this little gremlin with a philosophy minor— slides in like: "…yeah, but I see how he got there." (beat) Luigi Mangione as well.

Let’s be perfectly clear: I'm not good at violence, and I've never even held a loaded gun, so that isn't my path, but still: I see how the Cole Allen's and the Luigi Mangione's get there. Not that I’m co-signing that plan.  
Because the Tao says “violence is not the way” and I'm like: "Copy that, Lao Tzu, respect, big fan, incredible beard energy—" (beat) —but then reality rolls up like a drunk Uber driver and goes: "Cool philosophy, bro. Now what?" 

And I know— I know— the safe move here is: Condemn. Distance. Signal virtue like a lighthouse in a hurricane. (grand voice) "I am not that man!" 

Okay. But are you sure? (beat) Because identity… identity is not a statue. It's a rehearsal. 

You tell yourself: "I'm peaceful." 
Cool. Love that for you. Now what happens when you're not? What happens when your yang shouts down your yin? 

And now… buckle up, adjust your chakras, secure all emotional baggage— (leans in) What if the difference between me, Lloyd Dobler, walking talking Gen X screensaver, and someone who commits a radical act— isn't soul— isn't destiny— isn't some cosmic Yelp review of good vs evil— (beat) What if it's story? 

what if it's a plot point? A narrative narrative narrative all the way down story stacked on story stacked on story like Jenga for the soul pull the wrong block and suddenly you're the guy you said you'd never be wearing the costume reading the script hitting your marks in a tragedy you didn't audition for.
And if that's true, then here’s where it gets weird.

Way back in Chapter 8 I told you about Alan Watts saying change doesn’t take time—it takes alignment.

You don’t become a new version of yourself.

You tune into it.

Like switching frequencies on a busted radio.

Now if that sounds like quantum physics—many worlds—every version of you out there living its own weird life—

yeah.

Same.

It’s also Everything Everywhere All At Once.

Every choice splinters reality.
Every regret is another life.
Every moment is a chance to tune into a different version of yourself.

Which is basically how you’re hearing me now.

Because somewhere in the multiverse—

Lloyd Dobler didn’t stay trapped inside a late-’80s movie.

I bounced.

Through the hole in the everything bagel.

And landed here.

On this side of your headphones.

Intersecting with the world you call real.

Which means—

the story isn’t just something that happens to you.

The story is the frequency.

And you are already tuned into something.

The only question is:

which version of you is on the other end?

And that’s why—

I need something from you.

Not ironically.

Not “oh that’s clever.”

I need you to believe—

that I am Lloyd Dobler.

Because if I’m not—

if I’m just some guy with a microphone and a Squarespace subscription—

then this is safe.

This is content.

This is a TED Talk that shops at Urban Outfitters.

But if I am—

if story plus belief plus repetition equals reality—

then we’ve got a situation.

Because if a story can turn a fictional character into a person—

then a story can turn a person into anything.

Hero.
Villain.
Martyr.
Headline.

And once you’re in the story—

you don’t choose your actions.

The story chooses you.

So—

Chapter 33.

Knowing others is intelligence.

Knowing yourself is true wisdom.

And right now?

I don't know who I am. (beat) 
I know I'm not the monk. 
Yet.
I know I'm not the manifesto. 
Yet.
I know I'm somewhere in between— still here. Still asking. 

 Maybe that's the answer. 
Maybe that's the whole answer. 

Who are you?

From the edge of empire— and the center of self— this is The Tao of Lloyd.