Thinking Without Words

Have you ever known something, and yet not really understood what it is you know? I realize this sounds paradoxical, but I had a weird moment of "Ooohhh, I get it" the other day. A few minutes of Through the Wormhole with Morgan Freeman was on the television the other night, and they were talking about the concept of consciousness in colonies of ants and other creatures, like the octopus. He made a statement about humans not knowing what it's like to think without words and I was immediately insulted. "I do that all the time..." was my immediate and confused response to my husband. Dear husband then proceeded to raise his eyebrows at me like I was nuts... and he's an intuitor.

Every canned explanation of INTJ's, and even of intuition, talks about thinking in abstract terms that are "difficult to put into words" and knowing things without being sure how you know them. A work friend dismisses intuition as complete B.S. and not a legitimate way of knowing anything. They see it as simply arriving at conclusions without the effort of actually thinking about it, and so it isn't a valid conclusion because it lacks the logical, conscious thoughts that would support it. In a very scientific manner of speaking, I agree with them, however I cannot dismiss or ignore that part of me because I've seen it in action too many times.

Here's a weird thing. I've been consciously aware of the fact that I'm thinking about a problem before and yet knowing that my "thoughts" aren't tied to words or even images. In those moments I even surprise myself with the conclusions I arrive at because I rarely know what will come out of my mouth until I start talking after one of these "comatose" moments. It tends to happen most often when I'm in a group of people who are trying to solve a problem. I retreat into my own head, stare blankly at the table and feel the problem. Ugh, I know how that sounds, but it's the only way to describe it. It is very quiet in my head. In that moment it is as if my brain is moving puzzle pieces around on a slate, trying to find the piece that doesn't fit. I sense that my eyes are darting back and forth in tiny twitches as if scanning something that isn't there. There comes a moment in the synthesizing that my mouth starts moving, and sometimes it's a question that comes out, and other times it's a statement of observation. Very rarely is it an actual solution... my brain doesn't seem to want that. What it wants is to understand consciously whatever in the hell just happened with the blank-slate puzzle pieces. Usually it's a more solution oriented person in the group that picks up my observations or the answer to my question and presents a possible solution to the problem. My brain then tries to synthesize their solution against what it knows to see if there is any flaw... which results in more questions or statements.

Sometimes I offer a solution that is so far out of the path we were on that people look at me like I'm daft... but solutions only arrive after complete understanding. It can take me a while to reach that point and feel satisfied that I'm not missing something. 

With very complex problems, I have been known to stare blankly at a wall or desk for great lengths of time... thinking without words. It's like a deck of cards being shuffled randomly through a scanner that attempts to make connections. If there were words to the shuffling, maybe it would sound something like: Red. Black. Number. Letter. Picture. Queen. Hat. Club. Hit. Pain. Blood. Lust, Red. Black. White. Clear. Plastic. Ocean. Openness. Water. Boat. Queen. Columbus. Shoreline. Trees. Hills. Calm. Green. Red. Christmas. Bells. Gold. Sing. Words. Letters. Numbers. Black. Red. It is with this randomness and repetitive linking of seemingly unrelated things that is the foundation of intuition, except that it is much more subconscious, and they aren't linear. It's a spider web of ideas, concepts and things all tied together with a billion little knots. How do you explain that without sounding like a lunatic? 

Most of the time I don't think I could give anyone an accurate representation of how I reached a conclusion without asking questions. That's where it all seems to be based. I don't even see the whole picture in my head when I start explaining, but I know the question it starts with, and I know the end conclusion, and I can build the bridge for them by following my own questions, out loud, one at a time. Sometimes I start to explain and then abruptly stop with a comment like "No, never mind, that won't work." because the bridge can't be built in words, or perhaps when it was put into words it triggered some other path of analysis that brought the other issues with it to light for me. 

Apparently this type of "thinking" isn't normal? Even knowing what the descriptions say about the INTJ mentality, I didn't get it. I always thought "Of course my ideas are abstract, all thoughts are just fleeting moments of consciousness that have to be built out for the world to process." The funny thing is... I thought that the act of having to put an idea INTO words after having the idea was something everyone did. It never occurred to me that there are people who literally THINK, in words, every single part of their existence. That sounds exhausting. What a cacophony of noise that would be inside the mind! How would a person ever get any rest? That seems like the utmost level of stress to have to live like that. I prefer the calm, placid waters of my consciousness, even knowing that underneath the surface there is a whirlpool of activity. I realized a long time ago that I have many, many thoughts that never fully reach consciousness.  (See this blog post) What I didn't realize is that what I call my "subconscious" may not actually be the same thing that others consider to be "subconscious". Maybe that is actually my conscious awareness, but it doesn't operate in the same way as it does for others. I never considered anything that wasn't actual words to be conscious thought, and yet it drives me to make real, vocalized conclusions about the world. Am I wrong? 

I don't know that any of us can answer that question. There has been debate through much of human history about what it means to be self-aware, conscious and "human". I do know how surprised I was to hear Morgan Freeman tell me that humans don't think without words. What about people who are deaf or who never learned words in the way most people do? Whoever wrote that script is obviously not thinking in the manner that I think, or even considering other ways of looking at the world. Stupid Morgan Freeman with his uber calm and explanatory voice can suck an egg and shall forever bear the brunt of my annoyance with the statement, since I can't find the person who actually wrote it. Whatever movie I see him in from now on will be tainted with his haughty confidence in spewing untruths. Poor guy. I used to like his acting. Now he's doomed. I'll never believe another explanation he provides and hope he is eaten by a movie set shark like Samuel L Jackson in Deep Blue Sea as he gives his Kumbaya speech. 

Morgan Freeman: "Misty, you can't think or know something without words, it just isn't possible..." 
Me: "You should watch out behind you... I can't explain how I know that, but you should."
Queue: Eaten By Shark

The Math Monster

"I don't have strong math skills."

"I am studying physics."

Those two sentences don't usually end up together, and yet here we are. 

If you have read other posts here, you've heard about the quandary I have had with math for nearly my entire life. The only things I remember of early math (say in Kindergarten or First Grade) were the fun math carts that came around once a week that had math games on them. There was some other type of class where we did "physical" problem solving... puzzles with rubber bands, geometric shapes, pegs and other items. Over the next few years I remember liking those, so perhaps I did well. I don't actually remember learning any math outside of those days... but I'm sure we must have. In other words, if I couldn't tie it to something tangible, I tuned out. It also didn't help that my parents were in the midst of an ugly divorce by the time I was 7, which made it very difficult to focus on school for many years.

Fourth grade was where the rubber met the road, and I started to derail in a big way. It was the first year where we had any real homework, and I doubt I ever even took a math book or worksheet home with me. Instead, I would usually remember about 15 minutes before math class that there was homework to do and start frantically trying to answer questions or copy work from a classmate who was willing to help me out. Sometimes I got it done, and many times I didn't. Weak multiplication skills made calculations difficult in a day and age when calculators didn't exist for most students.  I spent most of that year in the principal’s office for not having my homework complete, or in the nurses office avoiding class because I was literally sick to my stomach with nerves about not having my homework completed. Mrs. Lang was a yeller, and a humiliator. Instead of reaching out to find out what was going on, she insisted on making my life hell. I think there may actually be some emotional scarring left from her abuse to this day. What a bitch.

I don't even remember fifth grade math, or the math teacher, however I think it was more of the same. I do, however, remember sixth grade. I remember Mr. Smith standing at the front of the class and telling us that if we didn't do our homework there would be no yelling and punishment... we simply wouldn't get a checkmark next to that assignment in the grade book. I wondered at this bizarre new format, but was hugely relieved. Miraculously, I started to like math and actually did most of my homework. I still remember some of the things I learned in his class. By removing the stress of being yelled at constantly, he opened up a new door for me and I enjoyed learning math, maybe for the first time ever. Unfortunately he was the exception because most of the rest of my math days went like the early days. My early lack of foundational knowledge spread like a disease and each subsequent year was harder than the last.

There was one area that stood out from the rest like a shining beacon, an area that I jumped wholeheartedly into and aced every single problem and assignment - Logic. Logic problems were amazing.  Think "If P then Q, if Negate P then Negate Q..." Holy Saints, I was so happy to get up to the board and run through the proofs that my math teacher was astonished. So was I, to be honest.

I struggled through algebra, geometry and trig so I could graduate from high school, typically bringing in a C at best. Saying that I squeaked by is an understatement. To me, math seemed like a convoluted system of "learn the steps", but each new area brought new steps and I was never able to relate one section to another. My only salvation was recognizing the patterns in solving different types of problems and learning the "steps" required to get to the end of it. I had to meticulously check my work, write slowly in pencil and not perform any steps simultaneously or the outcome was usually disastrous.

In my first year of college I thought I was going to be a teacher, and so I was required to take a math course on how to teach math to grade school children. Talk about a lightbulb! Click, Click, Click... things started falling into place and I learned many of the things that I was SUPPOSED to have learned in K-4. It was amazing. After that I didn't take a math class for a long time so when I had to take Algebra again I failed it the first time around. Knowing the basics doesn't prepare you for college Algebra, and I was rusty on knowing "the steps". Finally, I made it through the required college math and had all the time in the world to focus on every subject except math. History, Spanish, French, English, Literature, Philosophy, blah, blah, blah. Every class I took from there out was a B.S. class (and by that I mean bullshit, not Bachelor of Science). In these classes I honed my ability to change the viewpoint to change the answer and became a Master Bullshitter. Fitting, since that seemed to be my major. I learned that if you could support your argument with 'facts' from things you were reading, almost any answer was acceptable. I had been advised that since I wanted to be a Spanish teacher in particular, it would be better to major in Foreign Language and get the teaching certification at the end, so that was my path.

Fear of math kept me from branching into I.T. for a very long time, but finally I made the switch. I disliked the path I was on but probably would have seen it through to the end if I hadn't moved, however after my move the only option for me seemed to be online courses, and Foreign Languages wasn't a major. There was a lot less math involved than I had feared, and much more logic so I was right at home in the I.T. world, which led me to my career.

Someday I'll write a post about what happened with Kaplan University (the fraudulent b... *muttering curse words*) but for now, suffice it to say that I was one semester away from graduation when things went awry and I had to stop attending school.

That was about 10 years ago.

Over the last 10 years, I started to think differently about math, and came to regret how it had all turned out. For a long time I had joked about my hate-hate relationship with math, but eventually I began to feel foolish about it. Why should I hate math? What was really so hard about it other than the fact that I didn't have the proper foundation? If I was as smart as I liked to think I was, why should math be the demon in my closet? The more my mentality changed about math, the more connections I made. I started piecing things together that suddenly just seemed to make sense and my fear slowly turned to interest. Perhaps I could fix this.

When I made the decision to go back to school, to fight Kaplan for it with a lawyer if need be, I was nervous. What would I study? Finish my I.T. degree? Somehow I couldn't imagine doing I.T. work all day and then doing it again every night.  Ugh. Should I finish my Foreign Language degree? Maybe, but I really had no interest in it anymore. I don't want to be a teacher. Modern testing and political policies have made teaching a nightmare. What then? Was there anything that I really wanted to study that actually interested me? As I scanned the list of majors, one kept jumping out at me: Physics. Just the sound of that word makes my pulse race just a little faster. People like Brian Greene had sparked my curiosity over the years and I knew I was getting "the dumbed down version"... so what was really behind all those concepts? WHY did we come to these conclusions? What led us there? What might be discovered next? What if I could help...? These questions nagged at me for weeks while I considered the ramifications of essentially starting my degree all over again. I had a lot of credits, but only one class at Kaplan counted after it was all transferred. *More curse words* Thanks to Kaplan I also still had student loan debt. I knew that studying Physics could take me a LONG time to complete, and probably a lot of money out of pocket. In the end I decided that was where my heart was at and when I selected Physics from the list of majors, the swell in my heart told me it was the right decision. Yes, it would take a lot of work to brush up on my math skills. I was willing to do that. Yes, it would probably take me forever, but I was OK with that too. I wanted to UNDERSTAND in a burning way I've never had before.

Before my first semester back began, I found a series of videos on Youtube under the name "YayMath!" The more videos I watched, the more I wished I had had a math teacher like this. His teaching style removed the fear and actually made me enjoy reviewing middle and high school math topics. It was exactly what I needed to get over the fear and start to make up for lost time. I started trying to think about Math as just another language that I needed to learn, like Spanish, French, or SQL and it helped to ease the transition from past positive learning to math's positive outlook. Math is the Universal Language, and I intend to use it to understand the Universe itself.

All I can say now after my first couple of semesters back in college is that Calculus should have been taught in middle school. This one class brought everything else together in a way I never would have expected, and I loved it. I LOVED it! How weird is that? I feel cheated, like I should have known this way of "mathing" existed years and years ago. I'm sure my new openness to learning has something to do with my success, but I'm not sure it explains the Click, Click, Click that occurred in almost every Calculus class I attended. Suddenly Trig made sense, along with a million other things. Algebra had a purpose. Sometimes Algebra could be avoided completely. (Oh, Happy Day?).

To all of the students out there who struggle with Math, I might offer this advice: Negative thinking begets negative results, especially when it comes to learning. Try changing your attitude about Math. I know that I am responsible in a big way for the trouble I had in Math because I convinced myself at a young age that I didn't like math, and that I wasn't good at it. Granted, some rotten teachers might have played a part in that, but I should have figured it out as I got a little older. If you are one of those kids who just doesn't "get" math, hang in there. If you are in middle school or high school, I would actually recommend checking out the YayMath! videos on Youtube. Don't give up. You can tame the Math Monster and use it to your advantage.

Rawr!