Why Do We Say Stream of Consciousness?

I recently enjoyed two calls on WhatsApp in Spanish. They were both on the same day and they were both long conversations. They were with an Argentinian and a Spaniard who sent me messages on Instagram. That same day, I listened to a Mexican professor’s podcast about the country’s history. Before I went to sleep that night I read a book called A History Of Spain. When I woke up the next morning, as I was lying in bed, my mind was swirling with thoughts. But the thoughts were in Spanish.

As I’ve written about before, the ability to think in another language has helped the health of my mind.¹ It has made it easier for me to understand the counterintuitive truth that one is more than one’s thoughts—that one is the observer of the mind.

However the paradox is that he is right, Marcus Aurelius. As he wrote almost 2,000 years ago, “the happiness of your life depends on the quality of your thoughts.” I agree with you, Marcus. But the deeper realization to make is that you are not the voice in your head. You are what is listening. As Sam Harris writes, “the problem is not thoughts themselves but the state of thinking without being aware that we are thinking.” When you’re thinking without being aware of your own thoughts, you can drive yourself crazy. A series of negative thoughts can snowball into a runaway train bound for hell.

Involuntary thinking in Spanish made me realize this out of control nature of the mind. I’m now even confused by the term intrusive thoughts. What thoughts aren’t intrusive? If you have meditated before, you can’t help but realize how often your mind is like a hurricane of random, bizarre, running thoughts. The mind, as Naval Ravikant once quipped, "is like a monkey flinging feces, running around the room, making trouble, shouting, and breaking things.” This is not to say that you can’t control your mind. Of course you can. You have agency. You can choose where you direct your attention. And you should avoid negative self-talk. And you should realize that the happiness of your life depends on the quality of your thoughts. And you should think positive. All that good stuff.

Yet you’re human. It is hard to control your mind all the time. Sometimes you have bad thoughts. Negative thoughts. Anxious thoughts. All kinds of thoughts flow through your mind like a river. But you don’t have to attach to all the thoughts. Because a thought is not you. It is a thought. It is a passing content of your consciousness. The blessing and curse of being a human is this never-ending stream of consciousness. You can’t stop it. You can only train yourself—through meditation, journaling, or whatever works for you—to observe it. To watch it. And to unpack it, to understand the underlying emotions and experiences that led to the thought arising in the first place. “You have to see this mad creature in operation before you feel a certain distaste toward it and start separating yourself from it,” says Naval, “In that separation is liberation."

I struggled to understand or feel this liberation for a long time. Something that helped me is called “Just Note Gone.” It is a technique that helps you witness the impermanence of your emotions and your states of mind. Here is what you do: you pay attention to sensations in the present moment, noticing when thoughts come, and particularly noticing when they go. You see the fluid nature of your thoughts. There is no solid, hardened thinker, but a flow of continuous ever-changing thoughts, a stream of consciousness. And how helpful or unhelpful, wise or unwise, pleasant or unpleasant the water is? That largely depends on the quality of your inputs, and the quality of your habits.

A quality habit that keeps the water clean is meditation.

It’s understandable why people get discouraged with meditation. It’s hard. You feel like you’re doing it wrong. You have this misconception that you’re going to turn into psychedelic art and float into ever-lasting bliss. But meditation is all about doing nothing. You might say ‘well, I don’t want to do nothing.’ To which I would say, ‘consider it’ with a warm smile. Especially if you ever have those days. You know, those days where you’re running around like an frightened dog on cocaine that just got struck by lightning. I have those days. Days of chatting, working, texting, tweeting, calling, scrolling, watching, listening to podcasts, emails, emails, emails, ding, ding ding. Stimulation. Bang. More stimulation. Boom. To excess. Then I say to myself, ‘wow, I feel overwhelmed,’ or ‘hey you’re not as smart or skilled as you think you are and most people only pretend to like you.’ And then, I sit down to mediate. And the mind gets a break. I turn off the stimulation. I sit down with my spine straight. I close my eyes. I only breathe through my nose. I concentrate on the breath and, without making any judgements, watch what comes to my mind.

The more you meditate the better you get at controlling your mind. With calmer awareness you develop the habit of recognizing thoughts as they arise in the present moment. And experiencing that sense of separation from your thoughts—even if only a few times a day—is magical.

When I first heard about meditation and feeling a sense of separation from your internal monologue, I thought they were a waste of time and a radical “woo-woo” idea, respectively. But they have changed my life. Because they can help you in every single moment. Every moment is an opportunity to recognize that lack of awareness is why you are suffering. Lack of awareness of your desires, your expectations, your ruminations and your fantasies, that is suffering. Being lost in thought without recognizing you are lost in thought is the source of all your suffering.

Once you understand this truth, everything changes.

Once you’re able to observe your mind in the present moment—just as one watches a movie, a circus, or a stand-up comedy show—it is as if you have awoken from a life-long spell. It is as if you are a reborn child. Everything becomes more beautiful. It doesn’t matter if your internal monologue is in Spanish or English; everything becomes more beautiful.

1. I call it enlightenment by the tongue.