The Importance of Understanding Internal States

In his book BLINK, Malcolm Gladwell offered a popular presentation of how the thinking mind, moving at the speed at which verbalized thought-structures are created, is often mistaken as well as slower than nonconscious processes. In my opinion, Guy Claxton in HARE BRAIN, TORTOISE MIND presents a more accurate and complete presentation of some of the differences between when the thinking mind is effective and when the nonconscious processes are better. Besides the super-fast instinctual-emotional processes and the everyday speed of verbalized thinking, there are also all of the circumstances that feed into long-term contemplation.

Part of what I speak of as intentional control of attention, then, rather than involving just trying to stop any of these processes, often involves selecting which of these speeds to follow with one's conscious focus and privilege at any given time. For instance, during contemplation, the nonconscious processes still occur, the verbal processes occur for part of the time, and the more amorphous contemplative processes often seem to faze in and out of awareness. But, understandably, if you have to quickly react to an oncoming car that is out of control, you don't take weeks to contemplate your response.

If we think about intentional control in this context, we can see that intention and attention are different than emotions. Very intense emotions may drive someone into an instinctual-emotional state unintentionally. Habituation will often lead one into repetitious thinking spirals or rumination unintentionally. Verbalized thinking is also effective for things we'd like to practice and understand as well as part of habituation and repetition. And while contemplation is a "natural" enough state, it may take a little practice or learning to figure out how to apply contemplation consistently in a valuable manner. (Of course, these different influences on one's attention are not completely separated--emotional compulsion can influence rumination, resulting in obsessions, and verbal thinking is an important part of contemplation and eventual insights.)

Emotions, then, can be experienced as particular types of energy. These energies are noticeably different from intention. When one's intention is clear and one finds emotion-energies of different types acceptable, then it is easier to influence what one does without being oppressive with one's own feelings and desires. Rather than fighting against or being overwhelmed and directed by emotions, one accepts emotions for what they are and INTENDS one's actions. If we can conceptually and experientially distinguish intention and emotion, we can find a fitting place for will. Without having a sense of intention as fairly distinct, we often use will to dominate and override emotional feelings and impulses rather than finding a fitting type of attentional deployment that works with rather than against various emotions. When we are able to distinguish intention, attention, emotional energies, and will, we can practice being effective, strong, and flexible with a sense of agency.

Emotions that are not accepted and enacted tend to spiral and stagnate in some way, becoming repetitive habits or moods and shaping some form of intrapsychic conflict. When one intentionally accepts a variety of emotional energies, especially accepting the current emotional influences, one's emotions becomes more pliable and it becomes more likely that one will be able to direct one's attention as one chooses. When we are able to direct attention as chosen and do so in a way that is in accord with a variety of emotions, we align our energetic impulses with our intention and feel more integrated and alive in what we do.

When this happens, will and concentration lead into an artistic application of attention. With meditational techniques, we can learn to concentrate and stabilize a variety of emotional states and attentional strategies. Initially, practice may involve a consistent type of discipline--in order to learn the fundamental attentional skills or abilities--but eventually one applies stability as centeredness and flexibility. While variety is a natural part of being emotional beings, there is a difference between vascillating emotions and intentional flexibility. Maturation, then, involves the wisdom of recognizing how to choose what to do attentionally and the experience of willingly accepting emotions as well as an artistic/effective deployment of attention. With a feeling of artistry and stability, clarity is almost inevitable.

Singleminded, Fluid, Eternal

If we rule out the possibility of psychological avoidance being a desirable attentional strategy, it seems that the best choices can narrow to a set of three. So, in any situation where I notice dissatisfaction, I can put my intention into being singleminded in the moment (forcefully focused), fluid, or aware of eternity/immanence.

Singlemindedness fits when we're in a situation where we can "be the ball". When one is able to do this in meditation, it stabilizes attention and leads to bliss (and perhaps more for advanced meditators). This tight focus lends itself to tranquility because everything that is peripheral is deprioritized and unattended to--including worries about myself. The result is tranquility, and bliss often arises of that tranquility.

Fluidity fits better when it is necessary to go somewhere with one's attention, to incorporate movement. If you focus in in one moment and allow training to take over, let's say you hit the pitch, then in the next moment as you hear the crack of the ball on the bat or notice your swing as it goes beyond the plate, you shift your focus to notice where the ball is going, how long it will take a defender to get to it, the direction to move in towards first base, etc. This type of focus may be very tight, then, but it is different than singlmindedness. Familiarity with moments of singlemindedness, though, can prepare one for flow. If I can stabilize my awareness, I can then also give it room to move. Without learning to stabilize, mind moves as is its nature, and I may not feel fully identified or nonattached to the movement, I may feel somewhat separated from how my mind is working and moving. That distracts one from singlemindedness and flow.

Eternity is a little different, too. Some people get their sense of eternity from faith in God, others might feel eternity when the mind and heart open unexpectedly. The first time people realize that they have found someone or something which they are powerless not to love is a great example of eternity--a different sense of totality than singlemindedness. Eternity is often more open than singlemindedness, and singlemindedness often feels very condensed because one's intention and intensity in maintaining singlemindedness is important. Eternity is different than flow because there is always some hint or aspect that feels totally untouched by time. Parents will love children as long as humans exist--it's timeless, a quality or characteristic of who we are. That timelessness comes home for an individual the first time that they realize that they love their child fully, with everything.

So in any given moment, does it work best for me to focus in and stabilize my attention? focus but include more than a single point, flow? open myself to a sense of timelessness and immersion in reality? Each moment provides a different situation and gives rise to a new answer. In some moments the question is totally unnecessary to begin with. What happens then?