*Moving from the Binary out into the Open Space of an Extended Mind*
Posted February 2022 at Medium.com
It’s a “working from home” day and I have the house to myself for once: just me, my thoughts, my work and the gently drifting snowflakes outside. I’m productive and focused until I receive a disturbing message from a client that sets my mind spinning. I feel like a caged animal. A brief conversation with a colleague helps me gain perspective that I want to write about. I grab my notebook, cup of tea and head to my favorite chair. But the phone rings and it’s someone I’ve been playing tag with, so I answer. After that call, I pause. Do I write or do I go outside for a walk? Can I afford to do either when I have a mountain of work to do?
The drifting snowflakes win. Donning my boots and sleeping-bag-coat, I tromp across the field, duck into the woods and stand at the pond’s frozen edge. Chickadees and purple-finches flit and swoop around me — an unlikely scenario in the depth of winter. I take in the scene and listen to their lively chattering while thoughts of my dilemma from earlier settle and soften.
I have experienced gentle renewals like this far too many times to count and marvel at the gift of it. Nature offers me fresh air, an invitation to breathe deeply and bird song that rejuvenates me. The cloud of agitation has passed and I return to work.
Back at my desk, I smile and think: Dan would approve. My esteem for the work of Daniel Kahneman and his late colleague Amos Tversky is endless. Kahneman attributes their collective work, manifested in the book Thinking Fast and Slow, to their many walks and conversations together. “I did the best thinking of my life on leisurely walks with Amos,” Kahneman has said.
What happens, I wonder, if I apply Kahneman style thinking to a different scenario? My cult-busting friend and colleague Esther spent the weekend in the cabin in my backyard and finished the manuscript for her book, despite the fact that I kept interrupting her. Masked and 6 feet apart we riffed on all things cultic and spontaneously attended an outdoor Taiko Drumming workshop. Because we could. We also watched a video together titled Are you Delusional about Covid? My sister, who holds a different perspective about masks and vaccinations than me, asked me to watch it. I have seen many videos my beloved sister shares with me and often leave them feeling unsettled and worried about how to reach across the divide in our thinking.
Watching with Esther however, was different. We paused the video when one of us needed to repeat something or when we just needed to digest the content. We groaned at parts, winced at others and asked each other “What do you think that really means?” Occasionally we just said ‘hmmm’ when we learned something new. This companionship, coupled with our sincere commitment to honest communication around polarizing topics, allowed me to take in the information contained in the video without getting emotionally triggered. It was an informative and interesting experience — in contrast to my solo trips in the past.
What was the difference? When I watch such videos alone and keep the thoughts in my own head, they get bigger and become unwieldy — creating that caged animal feeling I had after receiving a disturbing message. By sharing conflicting thoughts with someone I trust, my capacity for comprehension grew. Esther’s companionship provided a reminder of my own values, allowing me to stay present in my own skin, reducing feelings of threat, anxiety and confusion.
By facing the issues rather than avoiding or denying them we create a space in which the polarizing points are brought out into the open — no hiding. In many previous conversations with my sister, we might discuss aspects of our differences, but the roots remained hidden. Watching the video with Esther gave space to systematically identify the points of contention. Simply seeing them — at least in the periphery, was an accomplishment — perhaps more notable than we knew at the time.
This brings me to what I fondly call the ‘flip flop tendency’. In a flash of insight (what Kahneman calls ‘thinking fast’), we can know definitively what is right and speak loudly about it. Then the wind blows and we become certain about its opposite. We flip from one pole to another in classic binary thinking style (a trademark of cultic leaders, by the way). A good friend who I take many long walks with, describes a related phenomenon: that ‘thing’ — the one that we were so sure about — has a cousin, or a long-lost sister, that just might be hiding behind our own back. When we are able to coax both perspectives out where they can be seen, something new — and significant- happens. The electrical charge of “I know what’s right!” softens, just a little — when it’s greeted, by an opposing concept within our own mind. In the wild, an animal is not threatened in wide spaces where it can see predators.
With practice, we humans can grow to tolerate the discomfort of uncertainty. This, can in turn grow — with more practice — into the freedom to think outside of the binary cage.
In his book, Creativity, Mark Runco concludes that one’s ability to tolerate ambiguity is in fact a character trait of the best problem solvers and creatives amongst us. In my experience with Esther, our collaborative exchange enhanced my capacity for ambiguity tolerance, providing me with some of my best thinking. In a similar way, my walk in the drifting snowflakes allowed my trapped thoughts time to integrate. I was out of the cage, and into the wild space where threats can be seen and thoughts roam free.
*Although I have not read her book yet, I must acknowledge the bold new book, The Extended Mind by Annie Murphy Paul for this apt phrase. I look forward to reading her book — just as soon as I return from my walk.
