But when it’s happening to us, it’s hard to get that distance. We’re so caught up in the situation that we can’t think straight. Our emotions run wild and get the best of us. Attention narrows, we ruminate on the negative, and can’t seem to break free.

The worst thing you can do when entering into a negotiation is to suggest or promise something because you know the other person wants to hear it, only to have to reverse course later. You have to be clear about where you stand from the beginning. I knew if I misled George, simply to begin the bargaining process, or to keep the conversation going, it would ultimately backfire on me.

Tracing forward from these remembrances of things past gives us the chance to re-experience and reframe these beliefs. Doing so liberates us from the confounding forces we label as fate, destiny, or—even more frequently—the other person’s “fault.” We will never sort through them all, of course, but what we don’t sort through impedes our happiness. It tricks us into using the rest of our lives—and the people we love, the professions we choose, the organizations we lead—to try to close the gaping wounds from childhood.

We too often think that deep conversations have to be painful or vulnerable conversations. I try to compensate for that by asking questions about the positive sides of life:

• “Tell me about a time you adapted to change.”

• “What’s working really well in your life?”

• “What are you most self-confident about?”

• “Which of your five senses is strongest?”

• “Have you ever been solitary without feeling lonely?” or

• “What has become clearer to you as you have aged?

Mistakes turn into anchors if you don’t accept them. Part of accepting them is learning from them and then letting them go. We can’t change the past, but we can work to undo the effects it’s had on the future.

The most powerful story in the world is the one you tell yourself. That inner voice has the power to move you forward or anchor you to the past. Choose wisely.