Your brain is a storyteller.
From the moment you wake up until the moment you fall asleep, your mind is weaving a narrative about your life. It takes thousands of data points—a glance from a colleague, an unreturned text, a drop in attendance numbers—and it stitches them together into a story.
Often, the story is helpful. It helps you make sense of the world.
But sometimes, especially when you are tired, stressed, or feeling vulnerable, your brain starts writing fiction. And usually, it’s a horror story.
- “That board member didn’t smile at me. They must be planning to fire me.”
- “My daughter didn’t text back. She must be in trouble.”
- “The budget is tight this month. We are going to go bankrupt.”
These thoughts feel incredibly real. They hit your nervous system with the force of truth. Your heart races. Your stomach drops. You start planning for the catastrophe.
But here is the primal reality: Feeling true is not the same as being true.
In the Primal Resilience Model, we call this a breakdown of Reasoning (Cognitive Clarity). When we mistake our internal stories for external facts, we lose our ability to lead. We react to ghosts. We fight battles that don’t exist.
Today, I want to teach you a micro-action that acts as an editor for your internal storyteller. It takes about five seconds. It stops the spiral before it starts.
We call it The Fact Check.
The Primal Reality: The Assumption Engine
Why does our brain do this? Why does it jump to the worst-case scenario?
It’s a survival mechanism. Your primal brain (the amygdala) is designed to keep you safe, not happy. To keep you safe, it assumes the rustle in the grass is a tiger, not the wind. If it assumes a tiger and it’s just wind, you live. If it assumes wind and it’s a tiger, you die.
So, your brain has a “Negative Assumption Bias.” It fills in the gaps of information with danger.
When you see a dip in giving at the church, your brain doesn’t say, “Maybe people are on vacation.” It says, “People are leaving. You are failing. It’s over.”
This is called Catastrophizing.
When you live in this state, you are constantly flooding your body with cortisol over things that haven’t happened—and may never happen. You are paying interest on a debt you don’t even owe.
To reclaim your Reasoning, you have to interrupt the assumption engine. You have to demand evidence.
The Micro-Action: The Fact Check
This practice is a cognitive “pause button.”
Here is the protocol: When you feel a spike of anxiety or dread about a thought, stop. Ask yourself one question:
“Is this thought a proven fact, or is it an assumption?”
Let’s break that down.
A Fact is something that can be proven in a court of law. It is objective data.
- Fact: “The board member looked down at his phone during the meeting.”
- Fact: “Giving was down 10% in July.”
An Assumption is the meaning you assign to the fact.
- Assumption: “He looked down because he thinks I’m boring.”
- Assumption: “Giving is down because everyone hates my leadership.”
The Practice:
- Catch the Thought: “They are going to fire me.”
- Ask the Question: “Is that a fact or an assumption?”
- Label It: “That is an assumption. I have no evidence for that right now.”
Why This Builds Cognitive Clarity
When you separate the fact from the assumption, you regain your power.
1. You Regulate the Fear Fear lives in the assumption. The fact is usually manageable.
- Fact: “Giving is down.” Okay, we can manage a budget cut. We can adjust.
- Assumption: “I am a failure.” You can’t manage that. That is an identity crisis. By sticking to the facts, you shrink the monster back down to size.
2. You Open the Door to Alternatives Once you realize your story is just one possibility (an assumption), you can invite your brain to consider others.
- “Maybe he looked at his phone because his kid is sick.”
- “Maybe giving is down because the economy shifted.” This restores your flexibility. It allows you to problem-solve creatively instead of panicking.
A Story of the Angry Email
I worked with a non-profit leader named Karen. She was tough, smart, and deeply committed. But she lived in fear of her inbox.
One morning, she got an email from a major donor. It was short: “Karen, we need to talk. Call me at 2:00.”
Karen’s brain immediately went to work. The story spun out of control in seconds. “He’s pulling his funding. He heard about the project delay. He’s angry. I’m going to have to lay off staff. This is the end.”
By 10:00 AM, she was physically ill. She couldn’t focus on her work. She was snapping at her team. She spent four hours living in a future where she was unemployed.
She called me in a panic. “Bud, it’s over.”
After she described the scenario (and her catastrophic assumptions, I asked her to pause. “Karen,” I said, “Let’s do The Fact Check.”
“What do you mean?”
“Look at the email,” I said. “What is the fact?”
She read it again. “The fact is… he wants to talk at 2:00.”
“Is there a fact that says he is angry?”
“No.”
“Is there a fact that says he is pulling funding?”
“No.”
“So, everything else is an assumption?”
She hesitated. “But… it feels true.”
“Feelings aren’t facts,” I reminded her. “Right now, the only truth is that you have a phone call at 2:00. Can you handle a phone call?”
“Yes,” she whispered. “I can handle a phone call.”
At 2:00, she made the call. The donor picked up.
“Karen!” he said. “So glad you called. Listen, I was looking at my end-of-year giving, and I realized I have some extra stock I want to transfer to you guys. I just needed your account number.”
He wasn’t pulling funding. He was doubling it.
Karen had spent four hours suffering for a tragedy that didn’t exist. She had let an assumption steal her peace, her focus, and her joy.
Your Invitation to Challenge the Narrative
We are all Karen. We all read tone into text messages. We all read judgment into glances.
But you don’t have to let the storyteller run wild.
So, here is your challenge for today.
The next time your stomach drops, or your heart races, stop. Catch the thought that just went through your head.
Put it on trial. Ask the question: “Is this a fact, or is it an assumption?”
If it’s an assumption, label it. “That’s a story I’m telling myself.”
Then, return to the facts. The facts are usually handleable. The facts are usually survivable.
You are a leader. Deal in truth. Don’t let the fiction write your future.
Master the basics, friends. Check the facts. Master the pressure.