[Opening Hook]
Not every moment in life is a made-for-TV movie.
Most of what happens is forgettable. But some moments define who we are.
How do we recognize those moments while we're in them? How do we know what they mean?
And how do we frame the story of our everyday life—so it deserves to be told, remembered, and passed on? So it brings understanding—not just to us, but to those who hear it?
Hollywood has already figured this out.
And we can use their storytelling secrets to tell our life stories, too.
[Short Personal Intro]
Hi! My name is Sean Openshaw, and welcome to UnRambling—where I record myself while [running, biking, hiking, walking, driving]… or swimming—well, maybe not swimming.
I then transcribe and reflect on the recording to preserve the insights often left out on the trail.
Through this process, I’ve learned that saying thoughts out loud can be even more powerful than just thinking about them or even writing them down.
And I hope that by doing this, I inspire you to try it as well.
[Set the Stage: What to Expect]
Today is Saturday, March 8, 2025, and I’m out walking in the forest behind my house after our first really big snowstorm.
Today, I’m UnRambling about something that’s been on my mind lately.
How can the way Hollywood tells stories help us make sense of our own stories ? How can they guide us to better questions, deeper insights, and a clearer understanding of how our stories matter?
Every great movie follows a pattern—a structure of beats that make the story work. I know some people resist that idea, but I think Hollywood is onto something.
Personally, I prefer the Save the Cat structure, but there are plenty of story formulas to choose from: The Hero's Journey, Freytag's Pyramid, Three-Act Structure, Dan Harmon's Story Circle—pick your poison.
I use Save the Cat story beats to outline the stories I write and film. And that got me thinking—what if we could use those same story beats, this same structure, to make sense of our own lives? To see the bigger picture? To understand what makes our story interesting, memorable, compelling and worth telling—not just to others, but for ourselves?
[The Setup – Why This Matters]
I’ve always said that life is like a glacier moving at lightning speed—an unstoppable mass of compressed moments, slowly shaping our existence, yet instantly reshaping everything in its path.
We know what happened in our lives because we were there.
But we don’t always see why it mattered.
We don’t recognize the beats that take us from one version of ourselves to another. Instead, we tend to see life as a series of disconnected events: this happened, then this happened.
We remember moments, but we don’t always take a step back to see the story’s arc—where we started, what changed, and how we’re different because of it.
A good story isn’t just a list of events.
A good story shows change, transformation, and growth.
We Are the Hero in Our Own Story
Think about that for a second. You are the main character in your own life.
You’re on a journey—facing challenges, moments of doubt, big decisions, setbacks, and growth. And like any great story, these moments define who you are and who you’ll become.
The question is: Are you just living through them, or are you paying attention to the story they tell about you?
Because if we want to make sense of our journey—if we want to learn, grow, and understand where we’re headed—where we’ve been—what that means—we need to ask better questions about those moments.
I love Einstein’s approach to problem-solving:
“If I had an hour to solve a problem and my life depended on the solution, I would spend the first 55 minutes determining the proper question to ask, for once I know the proper question, I could solve the problem in less than five minutes.”
I’m no Einstein, but I do know this: The questions we ask determine the answers we find.
Instead of asking, “Why did this happen to me?”—a question we often can’t answer—we can use story beats to ask better questions:
What was the catalyst that set this in motion?
What was the moment of hesitation before I committed? What compelled me to commit?
What are the fun and games? What is the love story?
The hero doesn’t always get what they want, but they get what they need. What does that look like?
Was there a false victory that made you think you had arrived, but you hadn’t?
What was the dark night of the soul—the all-is-lost moment—and how did you get through it?
What actually changed in you because of this experience?
What could an audience or your future self learn from what you went through?
This approach lets us off the hook in a way. Instead of feeling like we have to have all the answers, we simply follow the beats. We don’t have to judge our story while we’re living it. We just have to ask the right questions and trust that the meaning will reveal itself when we look back.
And in doing so, we give ourselves the same grace we’d give any hero in a movie—we let the story unfold. Hollywood knows that it doesn’t matter if a hero is good or bad; it’s how they change that matters.
When we frame our experiences in storytelling terms, it permits us to ask the hard questions—because we’re not just reflecting—we’re playing the role of the screenwriter.
And that changes everything.
Instead of being stuck in ‘why me?’ thinking, we get to step back, see the bigger picture, and uncover the deeper meaning of our own story.
[Walking Through the Beats]
Here’s how stories work—and how we can use that same structure Hollywood does to see which moments in our lives actually shaped us—how they can help us make sense of our own lives.
🔹 Opening Image – This is what life looked like before everything changed. Think of a moment in your life—before the big move, before the new job, before the loss, before the realization, before you committed to the thing. Where were you? What did normal look like? Paint the “before” picture with as much color and detail as possible. You can’t see growth until you can compare it to where you started. Don’t shy away from the ugly truths. Don’t describe how you’d like to remember it—tell it like it really was.
🔹 Catalyst – This is the thing that set everything in motion. Maybe it was a decision you made. Maybe it was something outside of your control. But this is the moment where the story begins—where you couldn’t stay in the old version of your life anymore.
🔹 Debate – Ever had a moment where you thought, Can I really do this? Should I even try? That’s this beat. It’s that hesitation before you step into something new.
🔹 Break Into Act Two – This is when you commit. No turning back. Maybe it was the first step into a new path, maybe it was a leap of faith, maybe it was a moment where you knew—this was it.
🔹 Fun & Games – The part where things are happening. The ups, the wins, the challenges that felt exciting. This is the messy middle—the stuff that makes the journey interesting.
🔹 Midpoint – The false victory or false defeat. Ever had a moment where you thought you had it figured out, only to realize you were only halfway there? That’s this beat.
🔹 Dark Night of the Soul – The lowest moment. The one where you felt like quitting. The one where everything seemed to fall apart. If a moment in your life doesn’t have some kind of struggle, it’s probably not a defining moment.
🔹 Transformation – The turning point. The lesson. The thing that made it all worthwhile. The way you grew because of everything that came before it.
🔹 Final Image – Looking back now, how do you see yourself differently? How would the “you” from the Opening Image react to who you are now?
[Finding the Core – What Is Your Story Really About?]
Finding the Logline— What Is This Story Really About?
One of the most powerful parts of storytelling is cutting through the noise to get to the heart of the story.
It’s the first question a Hollywood producer asks about a screenplay:
👉 What is the story about?
Sometimes, the hardest questions to answer are the simplest to ask.
When I Unramble, I start talking about one thing, then another, circling around a deeper idea I wasn’t even aware of. But by the end, when I step back to summarize the session, I realize what it was really about. And that’s why it’s so important to reflect, to look back and find the throughline.
It’s easy to get caught up in the events, but the meaning is what matters.
It’s the same with our life moments. What was this really about?
What is this moment trying to teach me? What am I supposed to learn?
Sometimes, the best way to reframe our story is to ask different questions.
One of my favorite life-framing hacks is asking, no matter how good or bad this moment seems:
👉 How is this the best thing that ever happened to me?
The answer isn’t always obvious—it’s often painful—but that’s the point. The question forces me to find meaning and hope—even in the struggle—especially when it hurts.
Sure, on the surface, you ran your first marathon. But when you step back, maybe your story wasn’t about running at all. Maybe it was about proving to yourself that you could commit to something hard and actually see it through. Maybe it was about reclaiming your health. Maybe it was about something deeper all along.
Simply ask: What was this really about?
Asking that one question—the real heart of the story—gives clarity.
It turns scattered memories into a cohesive narrative.
And, most importantly, it helps us understand what really mattered.
The Power of Teaching and Recognizing Your Own Story Beats
Another powerful thing about this framework? It teaches.
When we put our life into story beats, we don’t just make sense of our own journey—we make it easier for others to connect with it. It ensures our story is told the way we want it to be told and not left for interpretation when we’re gone.
Good storytelling teaches the lessons we’ve learned to help others and our future selves.
By shaping our memories into beats, we’re not just preserving them—we’re giving them meaning. Whether we’re telling our kids about a past struggle, sharing a life lesson with a friend, or even journaling for our future selves, using story beats makes it intriguing and memorable. And, let’s be honest—it keeps people from zoning out while we tell it.
But this isn’t just about looking back; it’s about moving forward.
Stop and think—you’re in the middle of your story right now.
Maybe you’re in a Debate moment, questioning your next move.
Maybe you’re at the Midpoint, thinking you’ve arrived, only to realize you still have more to learn.
Or maybe you’re in the Dark Night of the Soul—that all-is-lost moment, feeling stuck, unsure of what comes next.
But here’s the good news: That means a transformation is coming. That means you're just the hero in your story, trying to figure it out, and that’s OK.
Only the Gods know when your final scene will come. But until they yell ‘CUT!’—the story is still yours to write.
[Closing Thought]
So, what story beat are you in right now? And what’s the next one?
When you start looking at your life through the lens of story beats, things stop feeling random. You stop wondering if you’re stuck. Because you realize—every great story has moments of doubt, struggle, transformation, and growth.
Heroes come in all shapes and sizes. Some are fearless. Some are flawed.
But all of them learn. All of them change. All of them grow.
That’s what makes a story worth telling.
And that’s what makes you a hero—in all your flaws and glory.
Whatever moment you’re in now, it’s leading to the next beat.
So, take a step back, ask the right questions, and trust that your story is still unfolding—and worth telling.
Framed correctly, your life isn’t just a collection of random “then this happened” moments. It’s an epic journey. And when you tell your story out loud, it doesn’t just make more sense to you—it helps others too.
So, what do you have to lose?
P.S. I don’t know where you’re listening, watching, or reading this, but if you want to be part of the conversation, visit UnRambling.com or sign up for my newsletter at PersonalLifeRecord.com.
Thank you for listening. I can’t wait for you to tell your story—out loud.
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