Will and the Ape

When you're writing a story, you're supposed to know what your protagonist wants. If you don't do that, then you don't have a real character. And that strikes me as a really obvious metaphor for real life: if you don't really know what you want, then you don't have a really well-developed character.

If you don't know what you want in a particular situation, 

then someone else will want on your behalf,

 and you will serve them. 

This is a rule with few exceptions.

...

It's important to get to a place where you can act according to your subjective experience–your visceral, unedited reactions; that is, your natural reactions. Most people tend to be alienated from their natural reactions, their "true will". 

Natural, uncensored, candid, flowing—I have found these to be a suitable goalpost for crafting (nearly all) my reactions to social situations. However, the challenge is that human nature is ape-like, impish, infantile, and narcissistic; but such qualities can be transformed. However, the process of transforming human nature comes at a high price: The ape must be reconciled with the man. We can put the ape in a cage; many people do that, often out of necessity. 

When we pursue painful careers without exploring alternatives, we cage the ape.

When we force ourselves to laugh at something that our feelings didn't find funny, we cage the ape.

When we suppress a vile, irrational, immoral, curse we cage the ape.

When we suppress a harmful or impossible desire, we also cage the ape. 

You see, the ape will learn if you let him outside of his cage. Indeed, you must expose him to the light of this world if you are to live a good life. But be careful with how much fire you let him play with at any given point; he's liable to injure himself and others.

What that means is that we have to expose our ugly-yet-authentic reactions to people because that's how we transform ourselves, and it develops us in new ways.