looking back I now understand a beginning.  My family had just moved to London and I was put in a school which soon revealed my
dys·lex·i·a.  To manage this condition I was occasionally tutored in Sigmund Freud's study, surrounded by his collection of ancient artifacts.  These became my lessons, as my tutor would pick something up and launch into its story.  Perhaps it was Mesopotamian.  Perhaps it was Egyptian, or Greek, or Roman, and so on.  Everything had a story from its time, its culture, its meaning.  It also had a meaning to Freud and his theories and his neuroscience language.  All this was relayed to me.  This was my normal and it trained me to see and experience the world around me in addition to multiple other contributing factors.  The underlying question I was trained to ask . . . why?