Disclaimer: no wishes are granted or carpets magically flown.

In Helene Wecker’s The Golem and the Jinni, the two title characters represent different approaches to life. The former is created to serve and obey, the latter is born to roam free and unencumbered. Once separated from their masters, those opposing natures fuel an unlikely friendship and drive much of the book’s character and plot development, as two “people” figure out who they are in the world.

Frequently, after one or the other makes a mistake, causes some trouble, hurts someone, or simply isn’t sure what to do with themselves, they give the excuse, “But that’s my nature, that’s just what I am, and I can’t change that.” However, the bulk of the story involves them doing exactly that. We see them learn to accept responsibility for their actions, to control their natures. In short, they learn how to change and grow beyond what they “just are.”

All of us like to think we have free will (which… maybe not?), and that we’re in control of our choices. But who hasn’t decided not to do something “because it’s just not me,” or made an excuse for their behavior because “that’s just who I am.”

What choices you make, or things you do, have you attributed to your unavoidable, essential nature?

How often do you use that as a justification for your behavior?

What does that reasoning say about you, or any of our ability to control our lives?

Playing an instrument is the least interesting answer, but still valid.

In a piece called “Bringing Up Genius”, about a family of chess prodigies whose parents started them young, practiced with them constantly, and produced some of the world’s top players, we hear from some experts who make the argument that any child can be exceptional with the right amount of dedication and guidance. Others say it’s a combination of inborn talents and practice; not all who put in the “Ten Thousand Hours” will become great, not all who become great have to practice nearly that much to achieve that greatness.

But this line of research is only so useful: it’s too late for us adults to put these findings to use on ourselves, really. (Although one example, a man who quit his job to practice golf for 10,000 hours in an attempt to go pro, makes for a fun anecdote.) It is however, fun to imagine what could have gone differently. Our answers, looking back, tell us what we really value now that we wish we had known sooner in life.

If you could change one thing about how you were raised, what would you wish your family had done differently?

How would that make a difference in your life today?

Would you be a “better” person, or just a different one?