The Story Behind My Scripted Story™
A Three-Act Reflection
ACT I — The Problem
Why character matters (and why we’re losing touch with it)
When is the last time you described someone by their character?
Not their achievements, status, or resume. Just… who they are.
And I’m not talking about morality or public image, which come with their own set of wonky expectations and ideologies. I mean true human character—the kind that shows up in the uncertainty, the paradox, the pressure.
We live in a time where charisma often outpaces character.
Where talent, visibility, and success are celebrated,
but the quieter work of developing who we are is overlooked.
We put our trust in people whose inner frameworks can’t sustain the weight of their platform.
And when they collapse under pressure, we’re left disillusioned and disappointed.
But we’re not separate from this culture — and we’re not immune to its pull.
The potential for both greatness and collapse lives in all of us.
Every ego carries a seed of self-sabotage.
Every heart holds the capacity for both compassion and cruelty.
And here's another challenge we’re facing:
We don’t know how to engage with people who are different from us.
We’re out of practice with empathy.
And without empathy, it becomes nearly impossible to build the kind of character that can hold difference without defensiveness.
Empathy requires imagination.
Imagination is what allows us to step into someone else’s experience even if it’s awkward, scary or unfamiliar.
It helps us soften, stretch, see, and stay.
And that’s why story is so powerful.
When we play with narrative — when we speak someone else’s dialogue — something shifts. We don’t just understand others more clearly; we begin to see ourselves more clearly too.
In order to explore character, we have to practice empathy.
And in order to practice empathy, we have to expand our imagination.
This is the foundation of My Scripted Story™.
And it’s why tending to our character must be a priority.
ACT II — The Journey
How theater, global travel, and science brought this work to life
I didn’t fully grasp the depth of this work until I had lived through some of life’s unscripted chapters — grief, joy, failure, success, and the unease of not knowing how each scene would end.
But the seeds were planted early.
As an undergrad at USC, I had the privilege of studying under renowned philosopher Dallas Willard.
I can’t quote every lecture, but I’ll never forget how he made me feel—like he could see straight through the noise and speak directly to your highest potential.
There was no performance to his presence.
His character simply revealed itself.
Later, as a young actor, I spent years memorizing lines, adjusting posture, performing roles. But the most transformative lesson came from my brilliant acting teacher Diana Castle at The Imagined Life Studio, who revealed to me:
“You’re never playing a part. A part of you is playing.”
That insight changed everything.
Character isn’t about role-playing or reputation — it’s about how we respond when the pressure hits.
It’s who we are when the script goes off - book and expectations are out the window.
My curiosity deepened as I traveled across 21 countries and five continents —each one expanding my perspective and challenging my assumptions.
In Africa, I experienced embodied joy.
In Iceland, I found stamina in the wind and wild.
At a Chance of a Lifetime horse sanctuary in Santa Fe, New Mexico, I learned trust in total stillness—surrounded by a herd that didn’t speak a word.
But what struck me most wasn’t just the diversity of landscapes or cultures—it was the universal respect for character.
Across language barriers and belief systems, the ability to listen, adapt, and respond with presence was always honored.
These experiences made one thing clear:
Character isn’t bound by circumstance or identity.
It’s something we all recognize when we see it — and something we can all choose to cultivate.
Years later, while coaching Emmy-winning actor Tony Hale on The Mysterious Benedict Society, I saw this idea come full circle. Tony played twin brothers who embodied radically different worldviews in one performance. The ability to switch between them required deep empathy, a nimble imagination, and a deep sense of presence. Thankfully he was well-practiced and made it look effortless.
In a Wall Street Journal interview, he expressed:
“If I don’t find characteristics of the characters in myself, then I’m only going to be playing an idea of them.”
That’s it. That’s the work.
And science backs it up.
Modern neuroscience confirms what artists, philosophers, and nature have long known:
Empathy, imagination, and intentional practice can literally rewire the brain.
Character, it turns out, isn’t fixed—it can be formed, strengthened, expanded.
In his book The Road to Character, Author and Social commentator David Brooks explores this very idea. He argues that without a clear strategy for building character,
“Not only your inner life but also your external life will eventually fall to pieces.”
Character isn’t built in the spotlight.
It’s built in the tension of not knowing how the story ends.
In-between the lines.
ACT III — The Invitation
Why this work matters — and why you’re invited
We’re living in a time of deep polarization and disconnection.
People are quick to label, cancel, or shut down—and slow to listen, reflect, or imagine.
We don’t always know how to engage with someone who sees the world differently.
We don’t practice empathy the way we practice achievement.
But if we want to build character, we must learn to imagine life beyond our own lens.
We must become willing to step into someone else’s story and walk a few miles.
That’s the heart of My Scripted Story™.
This isn’t about acting.
It’s not a performance class.
It’s an invitation to explore the character within you—by stepping into the stories of others.
What You’ll Experience:
Scene work that invites vulnerability and play
Guided writing to reframe personal narratives
Live dialogue to practice presence with difference
Embodied perspective-taking that sparks insight, empathy, and growth
Along the way, you may find yourself surprised by what shows up:
New perspective. New language. New ways of being in the world.
A stronger sense of who you are—and a deeper connection to those around you.
Because character isn’t just a private virtue.
It’s a shared responsibility.
It’s how we show up for each other.
Especially when it’s hard.
Especially when it’s different.
If any of this resonates:
If you’ve ever wanted to connect more deeply with yourself and others…
If you’ve ever felt stuck in a story you didn’t write…
If you’re ready to lead, live, and listen with more humanity
This is your invitation to begin.