Wednesday, April 17, 2013

Paying Attention to Intention






My Take on Intention

Intention is the driving force that motivates us to choose a thought and follow it. It directs activities and other thoughts, as well as attitudes and choices.

Ready, Fire, Aim

Are we always aware of our intentions when we take action or speak?

I’m not asking about those situations that require instant action, such as a frying pan on fire, a burglar trying to get into the house, or a car skidding out of control. Obviously during such time-critical emergencies, wasting even a split second considering the intention behind a course of action would cause “analysis-paralysis,” and in emergencies, that could 
be fatal. Besides, usually in such cases, the intention is both simple and obvious: survival!

Emergency and time-critical situations aside, I often do things with energy and drive without really understanding the intention behind my actions, and at some point, I end up thinking, “Why the hell am I doing this?” Or worse, I never even ask myself that question.

Speaking without thinking is acting before examining the intention behind a thought on a smaller scale. Not adequately engaging the brain before engaging the mouth has gotten my size 11 foot implanted firmly in my mouth on more occasions that I care to count. I end up asking myself, “Why the hell did I just say that? What was I thinking?” Answer: “I wasn’t.”

This happens when I kid myself into believing that I have to act or speak immediately when in fact there is time to think. That or I latch on to a thought, the motivating force is intense, but I just don’t bother taking the time to examine it, and I just act. Or, if I do examine the thought, it’s only after the fact, and I’m already experiencing the consequences of my actions.

It’s like setting a course in some direction—because at first glance, it looks good out there—and then simply hitting the gas pedal. My mind just focuses on driving onward, on steering the course that I’d originally set, but in this tunnel-vision mode, I have no big picture. Why am I heading this way? Where is it I hope to arrive?

It’s frightening how easily I can just set a course with no clear destination in mind.

The Lie We Tell Ourselves

Sometimes I think I know why I’m doing or saying something, but because I haven’t spent the energy required to really dig deep into the motivating force that made me latch on a thought and act upon it, I give myself some immediately apparent reason which, while true on the surface, doesn’t hold up against the scrutiny of time.

In 2004, I remember listening to a cleverly crafted message on my answering machine. The Toyota dealership asked that I contact them about my 2002 Corolla.

So I called and spoke with a car salesman. He said we should discuss options for upgrading my 2002 Corolla since my lease was expiring next year. Again, crafty wording.

I had never leased a car before, so I wasn’t sure if I was obliged to go to the dealership or not. I had the feeling he was trying to push a deal on me. After all, I did have another year on my lease. And if I really had to be there, why wouldn’t he just say so directly?

He asked if I’d like to set up an appointment.

Each passing second of silence on the line was making me more uncomfortable. The man was waiting for a reply.

It was one of those situations where I didn’t give myself time to think. I let myself believe I had to give the salesman an answer immediately, otherwise he’d realize I was hesitating and he’d somehow have the upper hand.

Ridiculous reasoning, since my answer was, “Okay, when can I come over?” So I’d basically gave him what he wanted in the first place, in order to delude myself into believing I was in control.

This was the lie that was lingering somewhere in the background of my mind: I am obliged to talk to this guy, because my lease is expiring, so I might as well get this over with now.
First let me explain that I’m not a dimwit, though at times I certainly act that way. Often, my unexamined thoughts are appallingly stupid.

If I’d taken even a few seconds to think about my real intention, I’d realize that I was in the mood for window-shopping. I wanted to see if this guy really did have the deal of a lifetime waiting for me on his lot. So I was setting a course for Unnecessary Expenseville at a time when I was in over my head in debt and had to work overtime just to make my monthly payments.

A few moments of introspection would have revealed that my intention was not aligned with my long-term goals (keeping my sorry butt out of the poorhouse), and I would have asked the salesman the obvious question, “My lease doesn’t expire for another year, do I have to come to the dealership now or can it wait until then?”

Anyway. I didn’t ask that question. I went to the dealership, which, by the way, was a forty-five minute drive from home, and got talked into paying $300 more per month to trade in my 2002 Corolla lease to buy a 2005 model.

Again, I could have examined the my intentions before handing over my credit card. Did I really intend to by a car? Wasn’t I here to discuss my obligations vis-à-vis the lease? Only a few minutes into our conversation, it had become clear I didn’t have to do anything for another year if I didn’t want to. So why was I hanging around at the negotiating table with this guy talking about buying a car? He was a pro; I wasn’t. In fact, I was the quintessential impulse-buyer, a car salesman’s wet dream.

I spent most of that day guided by an unexamined thought, and the lame intention that had motivated me to follow it. An intention that went completely against my goals.

So by not probing deeply enough, by not being honest with myself, there was a disconnect between what I told myself the reason was for going to the dealership (I had to because my lease was ending) and the real reason for going (window-shopping). Consequently, the result of my actions was not at all aligned with my goals.

Letting Go of the Steering Wheel

Sometimes I examine a thought, see the initial intention behind it, and then I adjust the thought so it’s more aligned with my goals, but I don’t maintain the constant energy required to keep that revised intention in focus. I lose track of my intention in the forest of other thoughts and actions related to that original thought. When that happens, I have let go of the steering wheel. There’s no course correction, and I usually end up heading in the direction of the initial unexamined, unmodified intention.

Let’s say I’d examined my intention when I’d called the dealer and he had suggested I come see him. Let’s say I asked him the question I should have asked, and he replies saying I have no legal obligation to see him, but he has a deal of a lifetime that probably won’t be available if I wait to the end of my lease because of depreciation of the car I was leasing at the time. In this case, I’d adjusted my original intention from window-shopping to doing what is necessary to keep above water financially, but failed to maintain my focus on the modified intention and ended up window-shopping once again, my budget be damned.

Understanding Intention and the Big Picture

So let’s say I’ve examined a thought closely and I understand the true intention underlying my thought.

The question is: “Now what?”

This is where your big-picture goals come into play. Is the intention behind this thought I just had aligned with my big-picture life goals?

It probably isn’t. In fact, most of the time my initial intentions are childish and downright embarrassing. But the thought can be adjusted and re-examined.

Let’s say I’m on the other side of the Atlantic Ocean, off the west coast of Europe and my goal is to live in Manhattan, New York.

My intention is to end up in New York. But initially, I just thought of heading west. Now I see I’m heading south of course and would end up in Panama.

Now that I know what my initial intention was and I’ve adjusted it so that it’s aligned with my goal of living in New York City, all I need to do is make a slight course change. And at that distance, the course change is deceptively small.

So I modified the thought just so, in order for the intention to be aligned with my life goals.
Often, the action can appear to be the same, but the intention behind it differs in a subtle way. That subtle difference is huge, however.

Action: A father invites a young lady, his son’s tutor, to a café for a chat.

Intention 1 (Mr. Nice Dad): Learn about what progress his son is making with his lessons.

Intention 2 (Slimeball Dad): Nail her.

Maybe in order not to feel too guilty about his real intention (getting laid), Slimeball Dad lies to himself with the thought that he actually cares about his son’s progress.

The girl might be young and really pretty, but she’s not inexperienced with men. She knows what’s really going on in his mind, whether he’s aware of it himself or not. He’s asking her about his son and algebra, but he’s looking down a very different bra. And, what is that smile on his face? And why did he arrange to meet when his son and wife happened to be on a trip?

Mr. Nice Dad’s true intention would also be evident. On the surface, the action of going out for coffee appears to be the same, but the intention behind creates results (such as body language) than give away the true reason behind the action. It is this intention that will either vindicate the actions of Mr. Nice Dad, or put Slimeball Dad in deep shit with his wife one day.

(Okay yes, I did marry my son’s tutor, but it didn’t happen the way you think. I never took her out to coffee. In fact, we didn’t hook up until almost a decade later.)

No Intention and the Unexpected

Sometimes I act without any intention behind my action. Especially when I’m not attached to psychological thought and I simply act. This is different from acting impulsively on an uninvestigated thought. This is acting without thought.

Sometimes I have a clear intention in mind, and the outcome is completely unexpected.

To use the above example, let’s say something completely unexpected happens to Mr. Nice Dad as he’s talking with his son’s tutor and he falls in love. He doesn’t realize it at the time. His intentions are planets apart from falling in love with a young girl. It just happens.

When the Truth Comes Out

Sometimes the truth comes out immediately. In the example above, Slimeball Dad’s intentions become immediately apparent because of his body language and what he talks about when he’s with her. (Like how could a girl so young looking as her possibly be old enough to tutor his son, instead of talking about the boy’s difficulties with algebra.)

Other times, the truth isn’t revealed until much later. In the case of Mr. Nice Dad, his original intention, his concern for his son, is important, because years later, people might accuse him of taking the girl out for a coffee because he just wanted to get in her pants. But the evidence is on his side and as I mentioned before, the truth has a way of making itself apparent. Maybe he didn’t wait for his wife to go on some trip. Or maybe his wife was actually there, sitting at his side, at the café.

Conclusion

Knowing your true intentions is important on many levels.

The intention behind action tends to affect the outcome of your action. By examining intention and making sure it is aligned with your long-term goals, and by remaining focused on your revised intention, you will tend to attract situations that create results in harmony with your goals.

It is also important so that no matter what the outcome, your intentions are aligned with your belief system.

Action without purpose is not the same as action based on unexamined psychological thought. In fact, many of life’s most beautiful experiences come when action is without purpose or when the original intentions and the outcome are a complete surprise.


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