Thinking Out Loud

I've been reading the book Thinking Fast and Slow by Daniel Kahneman. Mr. Kahneman describes our decision making as 2 systems - system 1 and system 2. It's a helpful metaphor. Oversimplifying, System 1 would be things like intuition, feelings, and instinct. System 2 is conscious thought, reasoning, and calculations.

I realize that I live most of my life in system 2. Something about system 1 is broken. Or maybe the connections between the two systems are broken. I don't really understand the mechanics.

For example, what comes to mind when you see the word peace? Now that you're back from your happy place, how were you feeling? Did you have an emotional reaction of peace?

In my brain, peace is not a feeling. It is the absence of chaos. It's nothingness. But that's not really what peace is, is it? I don't have a peaceful life. I have an empty life. Empty of the noise. System 1 doesn't register peace like it should.

Because of stuff like that, I go into all human interactions using system 2. Ponder that for a second. My brain thinks, calculates, reasons about every human interaction. That makes them very tiring, difficult. Worse, relationships are too complicated for system 2. People are too complicated. There are no rules that express their complexity. So I don't feel connected.

I apply some simple rules that get me through the day. It isn't a lack of caring. It isn't a dislike or desire to be alone. To me, this is normal.

Now having said all of that, I know that peace is more than the absence of chaos. I've felt peace, solely through God's grace. It came in a few brief moments when I needed Him the most. But without His constant presence, I don't feel peace. And that messes with my head. It gives a foot hold to doubt - is something wrong with me? Am I not doing enough, being enough?

The answer is no. God loves me, broken as I am. Someone once told me that I was very personable. They're right. I learned some easy rules for smooth interactions. But I have a an almost impossible time bridging that gap into something deeper - even with people I know and trust, it's still unsettling to interact.

In those moments of peace, God assures me that He loves me. Even though I can't feel it, I remember. And one day, when He walks with us again, His strength will be enough to overcome the noise and static in my brain. One day, I'll feel a whole range of emotions, just like He does. A life I've never known.

Those brief moments (I can count them on one hand) are hope. They are the promise of my future. He reaches us all in different ways. He knows our deepest longings. And He promises to fulfill them. This is what makes God personal. A person, who wants a relationship with me, with you. And that's the hope - He's personal. Jesus is the one who makes this relationship possible. He stands in the gap - speaking the words I don't have. Watching. Guiding. Holding. Asking - before I know to ask. Jesus is why God can come to me.