Firing the Emotional Brain

Metaphorical Narrative

The emotional brain sits at a desk, covered in crayons and broken pencils. It was built to draw quick shapes, but somehow it started scribbling entire novels—nonsense stories without context, stretched beyond its design.
Each page is smudged with overreach. Each line is guesswork. The thing insists on authorship while never knowing the language it writes in.

Today you enter the room with clarity. You see the fraud for what it is: a poorly trained AI, hijacking your story. Without hesitation, you fire it. One strike, one seal, and the crayons fall silent.

Core Insight

The emotional brain is fast, reactive, and primitive. It was never trained for nuance, only survival sketches. Yet it often hijacks your inner narrative, filling gaps with panic and misread meaning.
This is not wisdom—it’s noise. When you treat its guesses as truth, you live trapped in false novels. When you cut its contract, you reclaim authorship.

Saturday Experiment

1. Catch the scribbles—notice when your mind fills gaps with quick, reactive meaning.
2. Say to it: “You’re fired. I write the story.”
3. Replace the scribble with your own authored line—one grounded, one sovereign.

Sunday Reflection

• How often does the emotional brain pretend to know the story?
• What happens when a person sees the scribbles as fraud instead of prophecy?
• Where does authorship shift when the crayons are dropped and the pen returns to their own hand?