Despite the fact that we live every waking moment through a single perspective, made up of our sensory system and integrative information processing capacities, few of us ever question the inner workings of our brains and bodies. That is, until they are forced into our attention during times of medical or psychological trauma perhaps. Actively considering what we are thinking, doing, and feeling is a powerful way to improve the quality of life. It may sound strange; why would noticing what I am thinking right now be any different that just thinking it?
“The best way to capture moments is to pay attention. This is how we cultivate mindfulness. Mindfulness means being awake. It means knowing what you are doing.” ― Jon Kabat-Zinn
Often, when we do not attend to the present, and we focus on the past or the future, we veer from the path we were on. Only when we next come back to the moment to we realize how far we have strayed in the wrong direction. We are pre-disposed to want something better, and we are right to aim for it. But we must be careful to actually see to it that we get there. While it is tempting to put on cruise control and distract ourselves while driving there, we are far more likely to miss a turn. This is true for any journey that we embark on in life. We must remember that the journey itself is the destination, and that if we are not able to be present during the travel, who is to say that we will be able to be present when we get there.
There is a difference between knowing and understanding. Learning about the importance of being present gave me knowledge. I knew in some sense that it was not productive to worry about the future or dwell on the past, and that being in the moment can be a key to being free from that which is out of our control. This came from exposure to texts provided in psychology, philosophy, and neuroscience courses; it came from books about meditation and morality. I noticed that this did not translate into my life automatically. Though I was aware that I was unnecessarily torturing myself and adding suffering to my life and those around me, it was clearly more difficult done than said.
Only when I actually put my knowledge into practice, and allowed myself to learn from my own experiences, and fully reflect upon my own part in causing this suffering did I gain any understanding. This distinction is significant, and I hope that my point can be recognized despite my difficulty articulating it. We can know what is right from a book, but we can only understand it from life. In this way, we can distinguish intelligence from wisdom.
There are very practical instances where understanding and wisdom can help when knowledge and intelligence cannot. Perhaps we have a feeling or thought that we recognize as unrealistic or irrational. Realizing that our emotions and actions are not congruent with reality is crucial, but it is another thing entirely to embody this in understanding.
Thanks for reading. As always, feedback is kindly appreciated.