On Intuition

As I see it (which could be wrong, but since it’s my best guess, I’m running with it) the main goal of spirituality is to develop a personal continuum of having the best thoughts to lead us to the best actions and give us the best feelings; a self-supporting system that will lead us through our lives in the best possible ways.  I am going to refer to this sense of internal and external lack of self-doubt as “intuition”.

This is a very difficult thing to write about, which is probably why I have chosen to undertake the project I’m working on now.  I’m not fully satisfied with anything I’ve read about it so far—and I’ve read a lot of stuff!—so I’m writing my own as best I can.

Intuition may not be the best word to use to describe the thing I’m trying to talk about, since what I really mean is something more like the flow-state that comes from doing what I love to do and being so fully sure and fully engaged that I can simply do/think/feel in a way that seems natural and effortless because I am doing/thinking/feeling with full commitment and certainty that what I am doing/thinking/feeling is right for me.

In nuts-and-bolts mechanical terms it is a deep sense of “all systems are online and at full power.”

The two basic challenges to writing anything meaningful about intuition are inherently formidable things to overcome because intuition—by the most accepted definition—is generally described as being beyond the realm of words and because most people who are familiar with intuition are fairly well-set in their ideas about it even though those ideas are difficult if not impossible to describe with words.

So what’s to be done if I should—perhaps ill-advisedly—want to say something about intuition?  What if I feel that it is very important to say something about intuition, not just as a way to communicate my thoughts, but also to use the process of writing to clarify my ideas for myself?

I know that I can’t really explain it logically, but maybe with some well-worked metaphor, I can at least give a feeling of what I mean to say.  Feelings are the real topic here after all.

“Always trust your first impressions” some people say.

“Always question your initial reactions” say others.

The fact is that there is no “one size fits all” approach to life.  We do our best to learn from experience, meaning that we save the memory of what was once a present moment experience in the hope that knowledge derived from that past experience will benefit us in the future.  We do the best we can to compare current experiences with similar situations from the past.  We do the best we can at making our plans for the future reflect what we have learned from the past.  The one thing we can never really do is be 100 percent certain that the events of the future will be consistent with what we have learned from the past.

Somewhere in here (I’ve chosen this spot somewhat randomly) there needs to be a very important word of caution.  The one thing that destroys proper intuition is the kind of internal certainty that makes us forget to pay attention to what is actually happening outside of ourselves coupled with the ego-itis (swelling of the sense of infallibility) that makes us think that we can know more than we actually are able to know.  We do the best we can and the rest is up to God/Nature/Fate/Random Chance/the omnipresent probability that everything will change in the very next moment.

Will there be a day tomorrow?  We can’t really know.  We can know that there is a day today and that yesterday was a day and that all the days before that were days.  But tomorrow could be different and each of us finds our own way of coping with the uncertainty of the future.

Now, what did that last paragraph have to do with spirituality?  I’m not sure.  I just feel that it does.

To put it another way: as you read these lines, only the word currently in front of your eyes is a part of your present moment.  The parts you haven’t read yet are in your future (that is IF you stay interested long enough to keep reading) while the parts you’ve already read are in your past.  By the time you reach the end of this sentence the first words in it have become memories.  If we—we humans, that is—didn’t have the kinds of brains that are good at storing information, we wouldn’t be capable of making any sustained effort at anything.

Now suppose—by way of example—that I was the sort of writer who wrote incredibly long sentences wherein the first few phrases could be completely altered in meaning by the phrases at the far end of the sentence.  To make any sense of it, the initial phrases would have to be stored in your short-term memory without your having assigned any specific meanings to those phrases, since the full meaning of the sentence is not apparent until you reach the end.  Those initial phrases would have to temporarily be stored within your mind as something not within your immediate awareness.  By “immediate awareness” or “conscious thought”, I am referring to the just-barely-provable idea that the number of separate thoughts—mental objects—that can be actively within a person’s awareness is a very small number—perhaps only one—and that the mysterious-sounding realm of the subconscious mind is made up simply of all the thoughts, memories and bits of data that are not in your current active awareness, in other words MOST of the information in a human mind spends MOST of its time in the subconscious part of the mind.

Or maybe the classic “film-strip analogy” will be useful here: the conscious mind is like the screen of an old fashioned projector-type motion picture system.  At any given moment only one small bit of still-frame film is being projected onto the screen and the illusion of movement is created by the rapid succession from one frame to the next.  All of the film other than the image currently on the screen is sub (below the level of-) conscious awareness.  It is only after you’ve viewed the entire film that you are able to be aware of the movie as a whole thing—only because the content of the movie has become stored in the most remarkably effective, infinitely-adaptable information system ever: a human mind.

With that, perhaps you can get some sense of what I mean if I try to define intuition as a non-linear type of thought that is capable of drawing on all of the senses and all of the information in the mind with or without a strictly explainable pattern of logic.  Where some thoughts are more strictly based in a logical, linguistically-linked, left-brain type of thinking, intuitive “thought” (which is often experienced more as a feeling than a thought) is closer to a “whole mind” type of thinking.

When a person uses intuition—when a person uses a whole-mind way of “thinking”—literally everything within that person’s conscious AND sub-conscious awareness becomes part of the intuitive process.

I sometimes call it the “stockpot.”

Here’s a question to simmer: what’s in YOUR stockpot?

In many—and I’m tempted to say in ANY useful—system of spiritual growth, meditation is an important practice.  In the type of meditation I personally practice—there are many different types—I sit calmly, taking full, relaxed breaths and I allow any thought that I might have to come into my mind and then flow into any other thought without attaching any particular significance to any of my thoughts.  It is the process of learning not to be so overcome by the feelings that can become attached to thoughts that I feel the need to suppress or censor my mind.  Anyone who has practiced this type of meditation can tell you that uncomfortable thoughts will arise.  The meditator lets the thoughts come, looks at them passively, does not allow those thoughts to take control of his or her feelings or to interfere with the sense of peace and allowing that he or she is practicing.  The ongoing practice of this kind of meditation has the effect of cleansing the spirit and allowing the practitioner access to his or her whole-mind intuitive abilities; it teaches me to “trust” my ability to be a whole-mind thinker without fear of my own feelings.

That’s a nice thing.

In Christianity, one of the main principles is that of forgiveness and that is a very spiritually-beneficial thing.  Feelings of guilt can be very persistent and very destructive to a person’s overall view of the self and the world and can therefore suppress and lock up a lot of otherwise useful gray matter.

In simple terms, feeling bad about something can keep me from having any productive thoughts that are even remotely connected to the idea in question.  Suppose I have some uncomfortable feelings attached to my ideas about love or family or responsibility.  Will I be able to—with those feelings clouding my awareness—act in the best ways with regard to love, family and responsibility?

Any best result comes from a best effort and any best effort comes from full commitment.  Self doubt doesn’t bring a best effort.

It is easy to get sidetracked in writing about this stuff simply because it’s so wide-ranging and so central to so many convergent areas of study, but my purpose is to simplify, de-mystify and to assert that spiritual development is good for everyone regardless of belief-system or lack thereof.

Some people are capable of having a strong belief in a higher power that is able to purify the spirit to its core, while some are not able to fully believe that.  Spiritual development is available to both and for both—although the methods differ—it is a matter of regular practice.  Just to make sure all the bases are covered, I’d like to say that for people whose religious belief is strong and deep, the practice of religion is an effective path to spiritual growth and for people who have doubts about the truth of the religious path, non-religious methods applied with persistence and understanding are also an effective way to purify the spirit.

Returning to basics once again—because the last idea that I write here will be the one best remembered—we humans are beings who are constructed the way all beings of our type are: we have an inside and an outside and we have the ability to control—to some extent at least—what crosses the membrane that separates our inside from our outside.  Like a hologram or a fractal, I theorize that we as humans share an essential characteristic with our physical composition at a smaller level; that much of what is true of our cells is true of us as larger amalgamations of cells: that we seek to connect into a larger meta-organism that we call community, society or civilization and we make these connections to others at the points on our outer surfaces where it is possible for us to connect.  Thus it is quite literally true—as the song says—that:

We are many, but we are one…

But this is not a given.  We connect as whole beings into a greater whole only by our whole-self choice to connect.  We can choose to try—against what seems to be a law of Nature—to remain separate.

Our outer surfaces are literally covered with connection points; we present a surface of skin that feels, we have eyes to see, ears for hearing, noses and mouths to smell and taste, hands for reaching out and hearts/spirits to connect us through shared feelings.

When I am in the presence of another living being, I am separate, but separate with the hard-wired desire to somehow connect.  This is why I write: because of my physical/mental/spiritual instinct to connect through the sharing of my thoughts, feelings and experiences.

But writing is static.  Once written, it stays the same.  The living of a life, on the other hand, is a dynamic process that can make significant changes in any instant.

As it should.

And so—without an actual way of saying exactly what the logical, linear connections are—cells bind to other cells to form a stronger organism…bits of matter are drawn by the gravity of bigger clumps of matter, forming stars, planets, systems of spinning stars and planets…evolved creatures capable of thought are drawn to like-minded others of the same sort…electro-chemical  impulses travel through the brain, potentially capable of connecting any thought or feeling to any other, bringing the possibility of kind of entirely new ideas that we call “creative thought”…sub-atomic particles in quantum physics are uncertain and potentially “anywhere” and the uncertainty increases the potentiality in much the same way that not being too quick to jump to a conclusion can lead me to a greater understanding of what is actually in front of me at the moment.

Here.  Try this physical communication aid with me:  hold your arms out in front of yourself to form a circle, letting the tips of the fingers of one hand touch the fingertips of the other hand.  Notice that you can close this circle or leave it open.  Notice that these are arms that can enclose in an embrace and they can let go.  Notice that—to love another person—you will sometimes need to hold that person and sometimes you’ll need to let go.  Life is not static.  Every moment has choices.  The best choice in one moment may be different from the best choice in the next moment and may be different from the best choice in the moment just past.  Continual learning, continual growth and being continually aware are the basic elements of spirituality.

This article is not finished.  It will never be finished.  All that will ever happen is that I will decide for now that I have written enough for now; that it’s enough for some preliminary understanding.

Parting words for now: learn what you can, experience your experiences as fully as you are able, have a plan for where your steps will take you, then accept the place your feet land with each step.  Life will bring great joy and deep grief and everything in between.

Live it moment by moment as a carrier of love.