Intuition is a pretty hot-topic. Google it and hundreds of searches come up. Most of them are around the theme of “how to tap into your intuition” and “trust your intuition”.
 
I get it.
 
The world is so complex - and getting ever more so. How are we supposed to navigate through it all? If we were to slowly, deliberatively, calmly and rationally sort through the hundreds of decisions we need to make each day, we would never get anywhere. There is simply no time to do that in today’s crazy world. In Malcolm Gladwell’s Blink (an awesome read, I highly recommend it) he writes powerfully to the ability to just know or understand something, seemingly immediately, and without any awareness of conscious thought or effort. Why wouldn’t we want more of that in our lives?
 
In our everyday language we venerate phrases like “I went with my gut” or “I just knew it was the right thing to do”. Note though, that these are always said after the fact – where whatever it is that we went with or did has turned out well.
 
Intuition is supposedly the font of all things wonderful and good: creativity, inspiration, better decisions, happiness, fulfilment. It would appear to be like some magical power, like the Force in Star Wars. “Use the Force, Luke” exhorts Obi-Wan Kanobi, and Luke goes on to successfully take out the Death Star, where all others have failed.
 
But the Force has a dark side – and, sorry to rain on the intuition parade – so does intuition. Chiefly because much of what we call intuition, really isn’t intuition at all.
 
In my previous blog post I wrote about System 1 vs. System 2 thinking, as researched and defined by Daniel Kahneman, the Noble Prize-winning psychologist, in his seminal book Thinking, Fast and Slow. In  Blink Gladwell uses the phrase “thin slicing” to describe System 1 thinking in action. Thin slicing is the ability to find patterns in events based only on "thin slices", or narrow windows, of experience. The term means “making very quick inferences about the state, characteristics or details of an individual or situation with minimal amounts of information. Brief judgments based on thin-slicing are similar to those judgments based on much more information. Judgments based on thin-slicing can be as accurate, or even more accurate, than judgments based on much more information.” (Source: Wikipedia).
 
In other words, thin slicing – which is System 1 in action – looks a lot like intuition.
 
And it is, in a way. But critically it’s also not in another way.
 
Because this kind of intuition is based both on data AND on thousands of hours of learning, dedication and practice of a skill or craft. It is intuition based on deep expertise. And it truly breath-taking to watch in action. Some of the memorable examples Gladwell cites are of firefighters who just “know” that there is something wrong with a fire, and by this “knowing” avert disaster and save lives. Or a master chess player who can scan another chess game in progress for just a second or two and immediately blurt out the next three moves that will win the game.
 
However when most of us mere mortals use the word intuition, and when we are exhorted to tap into and trust our intuition, it is based on no such solid foundation of expertise. Rather, it is intuition that arises from System 1’s heuristics (rules of thumb). And this is its flaw. Because System 1 heuristics evolved to deal with relatively straightforward, survival- type situations – not with the complex, no-clear-right-or-wrong decisions and situations that predominate modern life. And when this type of “intuition” is applied to modern life its propensity to lead us astray and jump to conclusions that are riddled with errors in judgement, biased thinking, and stereotypes is well documented and researched.
 
Worse, much of what we venerate as intuition is not only System 1 thinking, it’s actually self-rationalization and self-deception masquerading as intuition.
 
How often, for reasons we typically can’t verbalize or explain, have we really wanted something or to do something. We just know it. And so we do it. And it works out. And we praise ourselves for listening to our intuition, for going with our gut. But the truth is, if we had slowed down and really looked at where that feeling had come from, and what the feeling was really telling us, it was almost always coming from a place of wanting to be right, of wanting to have confidence in ourselves, and wanting to believe that it will all turn out for the best. Because being wrong, lacking confidence and embracing the uncertainty that is life and living feel neither good or comfortable or easy.
 
And if whatever we wanted or whatever we did doesn’t turn out well, we don’t tend to say “my intuition was wrong” or “I shouldn’t have gone with my gut”. Rather we tend to say “I should have thought it through more”.
 
This is not to say I don’t believe in intuition. Not at all. I do. Very deeply. But I’ve come to learn (the hard way, of course) that real intuition is a much harder and more elusive thing entirely than what we typically call intuition. But while harder and more elusive, it is also so so so much more valuable.  
 
For me, I’ve come to understand that my real intuition is actually a very soft, quiet voice. I have to be still and patient and intentional (yes, that is intentionally paradoxical! ) to hear my intuition. She is a gentle voice, and I have to cultivate space and safety for her to be heard. And, contrary to what I always thought, I find that my real intuition is never a feeling, rather she is a hearing. I have to listen for her. And to create the stillness and space so that I can hear her I need to be quite deliberative and intentional. For me that looks like sustaining as close to a daily meditation practice as I can. It means journaling regularly. It means making time to be alone, going for quite walks, doodling, sitting idly drinking my morning tea while I watch the birds and survey my garden, and listening to quiet music. It means pausing to reflect and process. It means, most of all, building “time out” and rest and relaxation into my schedule and my life.

So that when intuition speaks, I can hear her.  And when she speaks, she truly is my higher power. Because with true intuition, my head, heart and gut are all aligned. I am truly “in synch” with and “in truth” with myself. For me, true intuition is not a feeling. It is a knowing. A deep knowing that my actions, choices and behavior are truly grounded in my values and my purpose. And it brings a deep sense of empowerment, inspiration and calmness as all my doubts fall away and my confidence soars.
 
True intuition’s soft, quiet, gentle voice is well worth sitting in stillness and patience for. She is my North Star – shining the light of truth and authenticity into the darkness of self-deception and self-rationalization. If I will but be quiet and listen. 
 
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For more on intuition, see Maria Popova’s marvelous blog Brain Pickings and in particular her summary of Kahneman’s contribution towards Thinking: The New Science of Decision-Making, Problem-Solving, and Prediction, a thought-provoking collection of essays edited by John Brockman.

In Buddhist meditation the concept of the “monkey mind” refers to our mind’s incessant chatter. Like a monkey swinging through the tree-tops from branch to branch, so our thoughts chatter on, endlessly. This isn’t necessarily a problem, except that so much of our thinking is ruminating about the past, or worrying about the future in an unhelpful monologue that takes away from the present – where we are most capable of impacting our happiness and well-being.

Things turn darker when we get started on the self-criticism band-wagon. Here an incidental comment or event can cascade within seeming split-seconds into a full blown beating-ourselves-up session. For example, I was a few minutes late to pick up my son the other day from camp. As I walked in, ready with my apologies, all it took was one look – not even a comment, mind you – from one of the other parents and within seconds and without any conscious awareness on my part, I was in “I’m so self-absorbed, I really need to make more of an effort to put my son first, I’m the world’s worst mother” mode.

Huh?

THAT is monkey mind at work for you.

In Thinking, Fast and Slow, Daniel Kahneman, the Noble Prize winning psychologist, lays out our two modes of thought. System 1 thinking is fast, instinctive, automatic and emotional. System 2 is slower, more deliberate and logical. It’s not that one system is better than the other. Our survival as a species depends on System 1 thinking. System 1 is the system that causes us to act within milliseconds to threats and dangers. This doesn’t apply just to the age-old man-meets-saber-tooth-tiger scenario. When was the last time you slammed on the brakes in your car, averting disaster, with your System 2 mind only catching up a few seconds later that what you saw out of the corner of your eye was a car that wasn’t stopping for a red light, or brake lights going on in front of you, and you weren’t even aware of them until after you’d hit the brakes?

System 1 computes problems like “war and ….?”, and “2+2 = ?” effortlessly and quickly. System 2, on the other hand, is involved in solving problems like “17*24 = ?” or parking in a tight space. It is also System 2 thinking to realize we are thinking, and to evaluate the quality and validity of our thinking.

We spend most of our time in System 1 mode. It’s efficient, it conserves energy, it’s fast, and its short-cuts and rules of thumb do a really good job most of the time of getting us through the day with the least amount of effort possible. Which brings me back to our monkey minds. Precisely because System 1 thinking is so effortless, it can chatter on, seemingly without pausing for breath, all day long…and night. Trying to shut System 1 up is like trying to stop yourself from breathing. It may be possible, but you may die in the attempt.

But the untamed and out of control monkey-mind can ruin our lives. It can cause us to react emotionally and out-of-all proportion to actual circumstances. I’m a few minutes late to pick up my son and I’m the world’s mother? I don’t think so.

It was at my first Refuge Recovery meeting in Malibu, California last year that I head the phrase “You question everything, but do you question your thoughts” for the first time. And it pulled me up short. Because that was me in a nutshell a few years back. My monkey-mind System 1 narrative had a basic re-occurring theme of “you’re a failure, you’re a failure, you’re a failure”. It’s no wonder that that lead to my eventual collapse.

Are we our thoughts?

No, no and again no.

Have you ever had a thought that – if you had carried it into action would probably have been illegal? Or have you ever idly noticed as you were speeding down an interstate that it would only take a split-second yank on the steering wheel and kaboom, crash, that would be you gone?

We all have these thoughts. They are perfectly normal. And they say nothing at all about who we are as people. It is our values and our behavior and our choices that determine who we are, not our unruly and uncontrolled and often highly unreliable monkey minds in System 1 thinking mode. Or, in the words of of Dumbledore "It is our choices, Harry, that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities." 

It is us, the thinker, not the thought, who is in control.

Can our thoughts define us?

Yes, if we let them. If we take them as truth. If we let our System 1 thoughts rule too many of our choices and our behavior. If we don’t take the time to sit still and tame our monkey minds.

“Cognito, ergo sum” goes the Latin phrase ascribed to Descartes: “I think, therefore I am.” But this is not true to Descartes's actual intent. That is better summarized as “Dubito, cognito, ergo sum”: i.e. “I doubt, therefore I think, therefore I am”. One word. And that word is crucial. Doubt your thoughts, question them, hold them to the same standard as you would a dearly beloved friend berating herself.

Monkey mind is with us – it’s a fact of our existence and of our brains. We can no more stop ourselves from thinking than we can from breathing. But we can tame our monkey minds. All it takes is a simple doubt: “Really? How true is that”. That’s all it takes to bring our System 2 mode online. And just like first learning to drive required all of your focus and attention, to now being something you can now do seemingly without thinking, so too does the practice of taming of our monkey minds by asking this simple question become effortless.
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Just as quickly as I was saying to myself “I’m a terrible mother”, I was thinking “Screw that, I’m just a mum juggling three-bazillion balls – like every other mother on this planet.” And I reached down and gave my son a huge hug and the camp leader gave me a warm smile of welcome.