Attention on intention and metaintention

This morning I woke up with my attention on intention.

Still half asleep, I intended to do a lot of writing. But I realized that wasn’t enough.

I realized that I also needed to stay aware of the state of my intention.

So I needed two intentions.

Retrospectively, an assessment

Since I intended to write, I decided to write about intention first. Why not?

I decided to start by doing some research. As it happens, I’ve written about intention before. A lot. And as it happens, I’m one of my favorite writers, and I decided to read what I’d written.

So: I had an intention (and a metaintention). I’d made a decision. I had a plan.

I’d write a post that would include a checklist.

I predicted success

Intentional failure

In the post “Intentional failure” I wrote:

TL;DR: everything that happens comes from intention. If what I want to have happened has not happened, then I need to fix the intention. If I’m not fixing my (failed) intentions, then my metaintention needs fixing.

In the post, I recorded some questions that I might have asked:

1. Does the intention specify the correct endpoint?
2. Is the endpoint specific enough?
3. Is the intention strong enough?
4. Does the intention include producing a plan?

Thanks, Past Me. I’ll keep those in mind right now. My intention to write about intention meets all those criteria. My intention to monitor my intention—pretty good.

Intention deficit disorder

Next up, this post, “Intention Deficit Disorder”.

Since I came up with the idea, I’ve been reviewing how I carry out intentional acts and when unintentional acts intrude. I’ve been thinking about what I might do to improve my ability to use whatever powers of intention that I have.

What I learned:

1. Is the decision behind the intention clear?
2. Does the intention lead to a first action?
3. Does it include an intention to follow through to the end?
4. Does the intention anticipate obstacles and the intention to overcome them?

Intention lost, intention regained?

Next up, this one: “Intention lost, intention regained?”

In December 2016, I wrote a post about the purpose of life, the universe, and everything. In July 2017, I wrote a longer post on the same subject..

I know my purpose: it’s gaining knowledge, organizing it, and communicating it.

So I added this:

1. Is the intention aligned to your purpose in life?

Decision intention prediction

Next up: “Decision, intention, prediction”

Intention comes from decision. If an intention is strong enough, it will lead to action. To control action, start with a decision, and test with prediction.

I’ve already covered by the decision step. But here’s another:

1. Do you predict you’ll succeed in reaching your goal?

Why meditate? Redux

From this one, Why Meditate? Redux

Daniel said:

If meditating doesn’t enhance the other 15 hours of your life (8 for sleep and 1 for meditation) - I don’t know why anyone would do it.
You can learn detachment without losing 6.25% of your conscious life.

My goal in meditation and in life is not detachment. It is awareness. (Actually, awareness is a means, not an end. The end is knowledge.)

Especially awareness of the state of my mind

Especially awareness of my current intention (or lack) and awareness of any newly arising intentions of and any change in intention

1. Are you aware of any other rising intention or change in intention?

An intentional meditation on intention and meditation

In this post, “An intentional meditation on intention and meditation”, I quoted this from “The Mind Illuminated.”:

…while it may not be obvious, all our achievements originate from intentions. Consider learning to play catch. As a child, you may have wanted to play catch, but at first, your arm and hand just didn’t move in quite the right way. However, by sustaining the intention to catch the ball, after much practice, your arm and hand eventually performed the task whenever you wanted. “You” don’t play catch. Instead, you just intend to catch the ball, and the rest follows. “You” intend, and the body acts.

1. Are you maintaining your intention?

Excellent meditation

In this post, “Excellent meditation”, I riff further on intention.

In short: talk about how you use intention to learn to catch a ball.

We don’t know how to do anything. It’s all due to intention and magic.

If you’ve learned to catch a ball, you set an intention to catch it, and when a ball comes in your direction, you catch it.

Easy.

How? Nobody knows.

But first, you’ve got to learn how to catch a ball. And how do you do
that?

You intend to learn to catch. Someone throws balls in your direction.
You try to catch it. You alternately fail and succeed. And then one
day, you’ve learned that you can do it.

The point’s been covered, and this reinforces it.

The inner game of—whatever

This reminds me of Farnam Street Blog’s post in today’s Farnam Street - Brain Food No. 353.

The lead article is about “The Inner Game: Why Trying Too Hard Can Be Counterproductive”.

The article is about Tim Gallwey’s idea of “the inner game” as described in his book The Inner Game of Tennis.

Here’s a YouTube Video with as Tim Gallway gives a woman at tennis lesson. Her progress is rapid, and surprising:

Gallwey’s point and mine are: to get better, all you need to do is pay attention.

The more you try, the worse you’re likely to do!

Consciousness, Awareness, Attention, Intention

From here, “Consciousness, Awareness, Attention, Intention”, this idea:

Intention is a big deal. You can’t program the unconscious mind directly, but you can get it to reprogram itself by intention. The way you become skilled at a sport is by going through the motions, with attention and intention. Merely going through the motions is not enough.

Repeating simple tasks with a clear intention can reprogram unconscious mental processes. This can completely transform who you are as a person.

You get the idea, Future Me?

The checklist

So here’s my checklist for evaluating and monitoring intention:

1. Does the intention specify the correct endpoint?
2. Is the endpoint specific enough?
3. Is the intention strong enough?
4. Does the intention include producing a plan?
5. Is the decision behind the intention clear?
6. Does the intention lead to a first action?
7. Does it include an intention to follow through to the end?
8. Does the intention anticipate obstacles and the intention to overcome them?
9. Is the intention aligned to your purpose in life?
10. Do you predict your plan will succeed?
11. Are you aware of any other rising intention or change in intention?
12. Are you maintaining your intention?

Click here to subscribe to 70 Years Old. WTF! by Email

​

Decision, intention, prediction

Here’s the bottom line for this post:

Intention comes from decision. If an intention is strong enough, it will lead to action. To control action, start with decision, and test with prediction.

Here’s how I got there:

On October 21 I wrote this post, about Predictive Processing and correctly predicted that I would publish it. On October 25, I wrote this follow-up prediction. Then over the next 25 days, i published 21 posts.

Maybe there’s a connection. Perhaps not. But right now I’m going with maybe there is.

In some other posts, I wrote about intention. How intention makes things happen. But clearly (as I considered here) intention is not enough.

So now here’s my insight: prediction is a test of effective intention. If I intend something, let me test it by predicting the result of my intention. If I predict failure or unlikely success, then there’s something wrong with my intention.

I may intend an outcome. I may want it. But that’s often not enough. Right now I intend to take another sip of coffee, and I intend to have someone give me a million dollars. I predict that I will taste coffee in the next minute or so. And I predict that no one’s giving me a million dollars any time soon.

Result: I correctly predicted coffee, and correctly predicted not getting a million.

I predict that I’ll achieve what I intend much more frequently if I take the time to predict success or failure and adjust my plans and actions according to my prediction.

There may be times when I want to carry out a plan even when I predict likely failure. But in general, when I predict failure, I should change the plan or abandon it entirely (an extreme change in plan.)

Here’s the bottom line for this post:

Intention comes from decision. If an intention is strong enough, it will lead to action. To control action, start with decision, and test with prediction.

Is this post good enough? What I decide determines what happens.

If I decide this post is not good enough, then I predict that I’ll keep writing it, intending to make it better. If I do that, then I can’t confidently predict when I will publish it.

I’m not going to decide that.

If I decide that I’ve captured something useful in this post (I have!) and that it’s is good enough (I can decide that!) then I predict that my intention will shift—from improving it to publishing it. If that happens, I predict, with high confidence that it will appear in my blog within the next half hour.

I’m going to decide that.

It’s 1:35 as I finished the first draft.

It’s 1:45 as I’ve finished tweaking it and checking it in Grammarly.

It’s 1:49 as I finish my last tweaks, and convert from markdown.

I predict I will now publish it.

​

Arising and passing away down memory lane

A few morninga ago, I sat down, closed my eyes and intended that my mind present me with scenes from my past. After a very short delay, my mind complied. Things that matched what I had intended appeared in conciousness.

Good mind! Here, have some gratitude. You deserve it!

What appears

When I ask for memories like this, I often get flashbulb memories — vivid pictures with no sound and no motion. I see things, rarely people. I’m no longer in the present. I’m back there and then. But something closer to there and then than to here and now.

The first thing that appears in consciousness is the apartment building on Crown Street in Brooklyn. It’s where I first lived after coming home from Unity Hospital, where people have told me that I was born. I don’t remember it.

The apartment was on the corner of Nostrand Avenue and Crown. A blurry picture of the front of the building appears. I Google. A less blurry, more recent picture arises.

A picture of a hallway and a door that I think is the one to our apartment appears.

Images of a temple that is down the street appear. One image is from the outside, another is from inside. It was an orthodox temple. The men sat on the ground floor and the women in the balcony. I’m on the ground floor, with people around me. I can’t see the people, but I know they are there.

Images of the barber shop of “Pete the Barber’s.” appear. It was down the street, on Nostrand Avenue. Black barber chairs and mirrors inside appear. The barber pole in front of the shop appears. The kind face of a man who might be Pete appears.

An image of being in a car at night riding along under sodium vapor lamps lighting the Belt Parkway appears.

Thank you, mind.

Images of our second home, 350 East 55th Street Brooklyn, appear. Flashbulb memories of the kitchen appear. Jelly is being made from grapes from the back yard.

An image of the living room with tapestries or a mural on the wall appears.

An image of the driveway appears. That’s all.

The fact that it was a duplex, shotgun style, appears.

The name of the family that lived next door arises. The name was Komenko. His name was Rudy. Hers was Manya. One or both had acne or smallpox scars. These ideas and images arise.

An image of Uncle Morton’s house in Riverhead appears followed by one of Uncle Joseph’s home in Patchogue.

An image of our family driving through the Lincoln Tunnel early in the morning on our way down to Washington to see Uncle pick and Aunt Henrietta appears. Looking at the image, I can see the tunnel outside the car. I don’t see anyone people inside. The memory that we used to get up at 5 AM to get through New York before traffic arises.

And passes away.

Flashbulb memories of a trip we took to Maimi one year arise and pass away.

Images of Wolfies, a restaurant where we went for breakfast arise and pass away.

An image of the all-you-can-eat place where we went for lunch sometimes arises and passes away.

An image of the front of the hotel where we stayed arises. It’s blue. The image passes away.

An image of North Carolina, on the bridge that went from Hickory to Uncle Morton’s place outside of town appears. The memory that his home was called “Turning Point” appears. An image of the driveway arises and passes away. Images of the living room and things that I did there arise and pass away.

The memory that Turning Point was next to the home of Morton’s friend and mentor arises. The memory that his name might have been Charles Boedeker Smith arises. The memory that my cousin CB is named for him arises.

They all pass away.

A memory of CB reciting what he was taught growing up in the South arises. The memory contains the sound of his child’s voice with its southern accent saying:

“Why I hate Yankees.
“Long, long ago, before Mommy, or Daddy or I was born, the Yankees came down and burned all our houses.
“And that’s why I hate Yankees

Then that passes away.

What appears in consciousness?

The idea of asking my mind for some memories—the idea that led to this post—arose in consciousness.

Before it passed away, I followed that idea and asked my mind for memories.

The memories arose in consciousness.

In between memories, I did some Googling.

I asked Google for information by typing, speaking, pointing, clicking.

The information that I asked for arose in consciousness—via the internet and my browser.

What is the relationship between Google and the rest of my mind? I ask both for information and information arises and passes away.

What does all of this mean?

What is it good for?

I don’t know.

Maybe I’ll do a podcast with my brother and sister.

Intention

Several days ago, the intention to write a post about this arose.

It was strong enough that I scribbled some notes in my notebook. It was not enough to produce a post.

The day before yesterday I wrote this post. Afteward, the intention to write this post was stronger.

I didn’t intention that might have caused me to abandon it get in the way.

I worked on it diligently when I had time.

And this morning, I finished it.

​

Intentional failure

What now?

Intentional failure

Yesterday I realized that I had not posted anything. I was once again having problems getting a post written and published. My punishment: write a post about why I’m having trouble and expose my behavior to the world.

Or rather, expose my behavior to the strength of my analytic ability. Figure out what was wrong. Teach myself (and anyone who reads—-like Future Me) what to do when this happens.

TL;DR: everything that happens comes from intention. If what I want to have happened has not happened, then I need to fix the intention. If I’m not fixing my (failed) intentions, then my metaintention needs fixing.

Intention redux

The last post I wrote was about intention. If I’m not completing a post, then there’s something wrong with my intention. So what went wrong today?

When an intention appears in consciousness, it might starts as a mere desire. An intention’s got to build some muscle to result in action. It’s got to compete with other intentions. And it’s got to overcome inertia. We might describe inertia as the default intention: to do nothing or to follow whims.

An inention has to include—or give rise to— a plan.

Without a plan, an intention is an oversized whim.

“Post” mortem

I didn’t publish the post I intended to write because my intention to do so was inadequate.

My failure to publish was an intentional failure.

What did I intend to do? I wanted to “write a post.” “What post? I never decided. My intention was vague.

I did start writing something—so I had enough intention to start. I didn’t finish. Why?

I did not intend to finish. To publish.

I did, kind of, intend to have it be published—I suppose. Memory is vague as was the inention.

Stuff came along. Other intentions arose and passed away. Some were unconscious, and some were conscious.

Some led to action. Others led nowhere. Perhaps those intentions are sitting around waiting for the right moment.

I had no intention to decide what intention to follow and what to abandon.

One way to describe the situation: my intention wasn’t strong enough to maintain itself in the face of the distractions around me (which lead to other intentions) and problems that I faced when writing.

Another way to describe it: I never intended to publish the post. I intended to start. Sometimes that’s been enough to get me to the end. Once I start moving, the momentum often is enough to carry me through.

Yesterday it wasn’t.

Now I have a more precise and stronger intention: to write this post AND publish it.

This post will be published because I intend to maintain the necessary intention to the end.

That intention—to maintain my intention—is itself an intention — a metaintention.

Going meta

Yeah, I love meta.

What’s meta?

From Meta - Wikipedia

…a prefix used in English to indicate a concept which is an abstraction behind another concept, used to complete or add to the latter.`

The original sense of meta (as in metaphysics) is that meta X is beyond X. But now meta means, more often, X about X. Metadata is data about data. Metalanguage is language about language. Metamemory is memory about memory. Metacognition is cognition about cognition. And so on.

Metainention is intention about intention.

So my problem is the lack of metaintention. Not just any metaintention, but some specific ones.

Metaintentional requirements

I want to undertake projects with intentions that are sufficiently developed to carry the project through to the end.

I want to monitor my intentions, intentionally choose among them, ensure that they are sufficient to the wished-for outcome, maintained to the end.

Those are wants. To turn them into intentions I need to make sure that the wants are strong enough and to provide a plan that will result in my developing and maintaining the desired intention.

I need to develop new skills: awareness of intention—or its lack; and awareness of attention—or its absence.

The current state of those skills: conscious incompetence.

The next state: conscious competence.

The goal: unconscious competence.

Becoming competent

I need to periodically remind myself to check the state of my intention until I do it without a reminder.

When I am suddenly conscious—without a reminder—that I’m being inattentive or operating with inadequate or improper intention, I need to take a moment and be grateful to whatever part of my mind projected that awareness into consciousness.

I need to learn that when that awareness appears, or when I check my intention that I need to take action.

I need to energize intention when it is weak. I need to restore it when it fails. I need to develop new plans when old plans are inadequate.

To maintain that intention I need both intentional awareness and metaintentional awareness.

Any time I am working to do something, I need to be aware of the state of the underlying intention.

This has been adequate to get this post out.

Let’s see if it’s good enough for another one.

Written with the help of StackEdit, Grammarly, Markdown Here,Blogger, and Google voice typing on Android and Chromebook, plus other stuff.

​