Sometimes we are at peace inside. But often, our mind is turbulent with noisy thoughts, competing arguments, and conflicting or ambivalent feelings.
Have you asked yourself, “What the heck is going on in my head?”
Perhaps a better question might be, “How can I make peace with what’s going on in my head?
We are often preoccupied with the continual narrative spinning in our minds. For many, it’s more than an unpleasant distraction. Constant inner arguments can produce turmoil, indecision, and anxiety.
Conflicts in the mind are born often of the specialized and differing parts of our brain functions. When they are not well integrated, disorganization can reign, yielding emotional distress, misunderstanding, and a ruptured sense of wholeness.
The neurological and subliminal parts of the brain process our thoughts and emotions, assimilating and integrating self-regulatory functions within the body according to the events, perceptions, and learning that we encounter as we move through life. The brain has a mighty daunting job of managing all this and can become overwhelmed. Neuronal dysregulation, trauma, illness, injury, and other adverse circumstances can breed mental conflicts that disturb inner harmony, affect decisions, and project outwardly toward others.
Let’s examine how these conflicts arise, both from neuropsychological foundations and experiential development. Then we’ll look at solutions to restore harmony and better adaptive functioning.
If we imagine the mind hosting a theater in which the areas of the brain play different roles and characters, the play might unfold as follows:
“I want an explanation!” demands the left hemisphere.
“I’m not going to give you any reasons, and I don’t have to if I don’t feel like it,” counters the right hemisphere.
The anterior (front of the brain) shouts, “Tell me what to say and how to say it! I’ve got demands from the world, and I have to respond!”
“I’m processing the information and will present it when I’m ready. Relax, don’t get so excited,” replies the posterior (back of the brain) coolly.
And so the controversies endure . . .
Sometimes opposing interests compete and create conflict that can be settled through negotiation or compromise.
In a story about two sisters who fought bitterly over a single orange, one sister wanted the pulp for juice, while the other wanted the rind for orange peel. They ended up killing each other without recognizing a mutually compatible and beneficial solution.
Conflicts among people abound. Individually, we may be swayed alternatively by ambivalent feelings, incompatible demands and desires, and/or contradictory values. But the largest measure of mental conflict resides with the internal battle between the logical analytic brain and the emotional brain.
The intermittent (and sometimes unrelenting) narrative that courses through our head is the mind’s attempt to interpret our experiences. This narrative tries to make sense of feelings, external events, and internal sensations. Often, the narrative becomes repetitive (or obsessive), making evaluations, judgments, hypotheses, and plans. When the voices inside cycle (like a hamster on a wheel) and become loud, critical, or dissonant, it generates anxiety and other distress. This phenomenon is very familiar to those who have trouble sleeping.
Our brain is a marvel of integrated functions that, for the most part, operates seamlessly without much conscious intervention. Brain organelles have different functions that specialize, but also coordinate with other brain areas and functions. Principally, the left and right hemispheres process information differently.
The left hemisphere is more analytic, verbally oriented, and logical. It’s the part that helps us analyze, interpret, evaluate, plan, calculate, and generalize abstractions and concepts from words and explanations. It explains, justifies, and reasons. Without a properly functioning left hemisphere, it would not be possible to go about the numerous and varied activities of daily living.
The right hemisphere governs experiencing and integrating emotional information and states (levels of central nervous system arousal), while also processing nonverbal information, such as body language, expressions, and primitive drives and impulses. The right hemisphere also interprets inferences, spawns insights, and helps organize information that’s not directly stated or spelled out in language—such as hidden meaning, spatial orientation, the relationship of steps and coordination needed to follow-through on actions and behaviors.
Amplifying this basic (though simplified) model of brain functions is the “division” between the front (anterior) and back (posterior) of brain operations. The front of the brain acts as a sentry, monitoring and filtering information from the outer world. We sometimes refer to these brain duties as executive function—attention, focus of perception, immediate memory. The frontal brain also monitors and censors what we do outwardly: our words and behaviors, and the implementation of plans and actions. To do this properly, the brain must utilize evaluation and inhibition. When working well, our brain prevents us from running around naked outside, making proclamations or touching others inappropriately.
The frontal lobe must work harmoniously with the posterior brain, the part that processes sensory information. This is where visual images and other sensory phenomena are organized and accommodated meaningfully. The posterior regions are, if you will, the back kitchen where food is prepared to deliver to the dining area (frontal regions). Coordination is needed between these areas of specialty.
So much for the neurological underpinnings of the brain. Let’s see how the conscious mind mediates the stirrings of the brain.
We normally intermingle information and interpretations from the different brain areas. When these processes flow seamlessly, we integrate thoughts, feelings, plans, assessments, etc., and we tend to feel like ourselves. Often, however, there is dissonance between the functions and demands of our brain areas, resulting in preoccupations, distress, perplexity, and conflicts.
We experience consciously the substructural rifts as competitions among the brain areas to assert prominence in consciousness by asserting their functional demands.
Our left hemisphere wants appeasement and explanations. Our right hemisphere wants calming and removal of fear and threat. The left hemisphere won’t forgive the right hemisphere for its lack of explanation and justification. This demand falls on a “deaf ear” (literally above the ear in the right temporal and parietal regions) where the right hemisphere is intransigent to appeals for logic and rationalization. This gives rise to the conflicts between thoughts, values, judgments, and plans and the emotional modulation and fight-or-flight mechanisms that are the right hemisphere’s province.
The frontal and posterior regions also play in the round-robin events by mediating what we take in from, and deliver to, the outside world. Perhaps you’ve had the experience of “I know what I want to communicate, but I just can’t put it into words,” or “I’m not sure if I should really reveal what I’m thinking.” That represents the conscious display of frontal and posterior deliberation or misalignment.
Though contradictions, disparities, and competing desires are normal aspects of brain functioning, traumas and brain dysregulation can overload and disrupt things, causing conflicts, confusion, and turmoil in our mind.
Additionally, the perceptions and expectations we form throughout life filter the neuropsychological brain workings to offer conclusions or confusion that immerse us in conflicts.
The following are sources of conflict that can trouble conscious thought and emotion as well as spill over into difficulties interpersonally and behaviorally.
We all tend to perceive things through the filters of our previous experiences, prior conditioning, values, and beliefs. These mental sets prime us toward confirmation bias: the tendency to filter and selectively favor information that confirms or reinforces what we already believe. It is a form of stereotyping. If, for example, you think that certain dog breeds are dangerous, you might immediately conclude when you notice such a dog barking that he is likely to bite. Similarly, if you have negative attitudes or experiences with certain groups of people (age group, race, culture, religion, background), then you might generalize (or even assume before any new evidence) that an individual from that group is or will be a certain way (closed-minded, dangerous, ignorant, etc.).
With familiar people, confirmation bias can lead to expectations or foreclosure based on characterizations of how someone has behaved previously. Suppose your partner has been customarily negative or critical of new suggestions or monetary spending. Confirmation bias may sway you to conclude, even before asking or sharing, “Oh, my partner would never go for that.”
Though not usually conscious, confirmation bias orients us toward noticing and magnifying information that supports what we already believe.
Attribution is the attachment of explanatory motive or intent to behavior and the result of actions. The team’s loss is attributed to player injury, disorganized playing, and lack of enthusiasm.
At an interpersonal level: His absence from our appointment shows that he is not interested or doesn’t take this seriously. Such an attribution attempts to explain the observed behavior and justify its subjective interpretation. The actual intent or perception of the other person may be far from the observer’s assessment and conclusion.
A couple arguing or fighting may misjudge each other’s motives. If he really loved me, he wouldn’t . . . (say those things, overlook my birthday, etc.)That comment about my appearance was intended to hurt me.
Components of our attitudes, self-concept, confidence, stress, or emotional fragility can influence conclusions about the motives and intents of others (with varying levels of accuracy or supporting evidence). Such imaginary projections can contribute to internal distress, inaccurate conclusions, and conflicts.
Mental conflicts can arise when someone’s behavior either frustrates us or doesn’t correspond to what we expect or usually observe from that person. Though people have varied behavioral repertoires, most of us tend to act in ways we have acted in similar past circumstances.
Someone acting as s/he has done before leads us to interpret that person’s behavior as in character or typical, in keeping with our expectations.
When a person behaves in character, they are acting in a manner consistent with their patterns of previous behavior. People tend to repeat their behaviors. A person who is frequently late is likely to be late again. Thus, instances of tardiness would be in character for that person. On the other hand, when someone who is rarely late doesn’t show up on time, it may be cause for concern; or, at the very least, you might anticipate a reason for lateness that is unusual and not simply another excuse (as might be expected from the person who is habitually late).
In character behaviors are likewise established and demonstrated through repetition. While they are not infallible, the patterns serve as good predictors for behavior and their associated setting of expectations. Someone who offers to pick up the check or pay another’s way will often make that same gesture. People who are stingy or cautious with money will likely reveal thrift or prudence in multiple financial situations.
Argumentative people cause conflict. Peacekeepers try to avoid conflict and to seek compromise and offer concessions. Predictions about their responses in new situations may be reliably inferred from their previous patterns of reactions.
Out of character behaviors are those atypical of or inconsistent with a person’s usual pattern. When a person who is ordinarily lively or excitable presents as muted or flat, you suspect that something is wrong. When a punctual person doesn’t show up or notify you, you may become worried. When your normally hungry pet doesn’t eat, there is cause for concern.
The message is this: when you carefully assess a person’s in character and out of character behaviors, you can develop a context for anticipating actions and emotions and for planning your behavioral responses. By expecting certain responses (based on previous track record), you are not blindly stereotyping people. Rather, you are using contexts for accommodating their responses and planning and adjusting your own. This assumes, of course, that you have reasonably accurate and reliable data from your experiences and observations.
In using context to predict behaviors based on character, you are essentially employing the principle and power of probability, modified by contextually sensitive influential factors.
If someone’s characteristic behavior bothers you, that in itself may nurture conflict—you simply don’t like that person’s character and, in your mind, struggle to reconcile or accept how a person could be that way.
When a person acts out of character, your confirmation bias is challenged. You have to accommodate the unusual behavior. Do you make allowances for miscommunications, slights, or unreliable behavior? Or conversely, do you widen your perspective to consider that perhaps you have pigeon-holed the person with harsh judgment and now may want to refine your assessment with more generosity.
Much of our thinking about psychology and the mind evolved from the psychoanalytic movement, notably the theories of Sigmund Freud. Freud and his acolytes believed that behavior and emotions are largely driven by subconscious forces that pit primitive instincts and desires against the social and moral strictures imposed by society.
In Freud’s construct, the subconscious mind (id) comprises impulses and primitive desires. The conscious mind that deals in reality is the ego. The superego is Freud’s description of the morality and sanctions imposed by society and culture. In Freud’s view, these drives are in competition and conflict with each other and are mediated by unconscious defense mechanisms by which the individual avoids or escapes unpleasant feelings derived from these conflicts.
Whether one subscribes to these theories or rejects them, they illustrate a model for the dynamics of mind operations that stir and maintain conflict. Freud’s paradigm advised bringing these repressed thoughts and feelings to consciousness under guidance with the goal of resolving them through gradual awareness, insight, and acceptance.
Perhaps psychoanalysts can be instrumental in bringing patients to awareness and clarity regarding their blind spots and conflicts. The psychoanalytic model purports that behaviors (especially destructive ones) are motivated by subconscious forces, and can best (or only) be altered through professional uncovering and interpretive revelation.
Practical observation of a broad spectrum of people shows that a percentage of people are keenly aware (and often obsessively troubled) by their drives and conflicts and a percentage of others are either blithely unaware of what drives them or resigned to or dismissive of the consequences.
Sigmund Freud had interesting theories, but they were insufficient and unproven. The brilliant neurologist and “father of psychoanalysis” postulated theories of the mind and treated patients according to his concepts of the causes of mental anguish and maladaptive behaviors. Freud was enamored of the subconscious, that part of the mind elusive to awareness, but responsible (supposedly) for drives and motivations. Freud coined terms including id, ego, and superego to represent and explain conflicting urges, motivations, and the mental mechanisms for mediating and controlling impulses in civilized and socially acceptable ways. Freud posited a death wish and strong subconscious sexual drives to explain much of behavior.
That was a stretch! Sorry, Dr. Freud, but I was not motivated to kill my father in order to have sex with my mother (ugh!), no matter how you may have impugned my subconscious and superego denial. (Come to think of it, though, there were times I felt angry enough to want to kill my father.)
Freud made a big impact by imputing significant meaning to dreams and their interpretations. We all dream of course, and many of us dream vividly and remember dreams with emotional reactions and some astonishment. For me, entering sleep is like going to the movies every night (free and fantastical shows regularly). Dreams fascinate me, but I can’t make any sense of them. Nor do I try. Being an empiricist, I rely on tangible evidence, observable results, cause-and-effect relationships, and reliability. To add some disclosure to my views, I reveal that, as an adolescent, I was in therapy with a psychiatrist whose psychoanalysis of me included dream interpretation. I saw him every Monday and Thursday; as if in compliance, I dreamed heavily each Sunday and Wednesday night, thereby dutifully reporting my dreams for his interpretation during our sessions. This process led nowhere, and was neither meaningful nor helpful to me in solving my numerous problems at the time.
The psychoanalytic notion that our repressed conflicts emerge in maladaptive behaviors where we act out and repeat unresolved issues just does not hold water. As I am convinced of the neurophysiological bases of much behavior, I’m similarly persuaded that dream contents are reflections of the brain’s residual processing of its internal events in the service of recharging and sorting emotional and cognitive experiences. I have found no practical sense in looking for hidden meaning behind these phantasmagorical neurophysiological images. The brain is simply cleaning itself up at unconscious and routine low arousal levels.
Biblical history recounts how Joseph interpreted Pharaoh’s dreams, thus rising to prominence. Though their stories are fascinating, Joseph, Pharaoh, and Freud are long gone—and so should absorption in their dream theories as having credence for our own minds. It’s safe to dismiss dreams as irrelevant for conflicts.
Our subconscious mind is hidden for reasons we can only surmise. It’s wise to acknowledge the existence of the subconscious, but to heed the saying, “Let sleeping dogs lie . . .” at least until they awaken and bark!
Though it cannot be measured by electrodes, we all have a soul. This mysterious (yet eternal) core of our being individualizes us, permeating and interacting with all that we feel, think, and do.
Whether through subconscious influences or conscious deliberations, the intangible aspects of our nature pit desires, impulses, and selfish orientation against the disciplinary governance of values, beliefs, social sanctions, and taboos.
We do things we don’t want to do, excusing, justifying, and even berating ourselves along the way. The divided self reaches into the spiritual soul, dragging with it the human neurophysiological competitions among the brain lobes that spawn conflicts within and sometimes trouble or quarrels with the world.
Besides fighting with ourselves over discrepancies between what we want to do (desirable behaviors as well as impulsive, self-gratifying ones) and what we find ourselves doing, we must deal with the disparities between what we show to the world and our inner selves. These “double lives” may include tinges of guilt or conscience, obsessive worries or self-consciousness, or outright hypocrisy masking what we do with what we say or represent. Many people struggle with an overbearing shadow of imposter syndrome or conscience, feeling fake or unworthy.
The conflicts within our souls pitting “shoulds, oughts, acts, and thoughts” is, of course, a classic struggle in our relationship with God and with good and evil. This is perhaps epitomized by the apostle Paul in Romans 7:
I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do. And if I do what I do not want to do, I agree that the law is good. As it is, it is no longer I myself who do it, but it is sin living in me. For I know that good itself does not dwell in me, that is, in my sinful nature. For I have the desire to do what is good, but I cannot carry it out. For I do not do the good I want to do, but the evil I do not want to do—this I keep on doing. Now if I do what I do not want to do, it is no longer I who do it, but it is sin living in me that does it.
So I Find this law at work: Although I want to do good, evil is right there with me. For in my inner being, I delight in God’s law; but I see another law at work in me, waging war against the law of my mind and making me a prisoner of the law of sin at work within me. What a wretched man I am!
I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do. And if I do what I do not want to do, I agree that the law is good. As it is, it is no longer I myself who do it, but it is sin living in me. For I know that good itself does not dwell in me, that is, in my sinful nature. For I have the desire to do what is good, but I cannot carry it out. For I do not do the good I want to do, but the evil I do not want to do—this I keep on doing. Now if I do what I do not want to do, it is no longer I who do it, but it is sin living in me that does it.
So I Find this law at work: Although I want to do good, evil is right there with me. For in my inner being, I delight in God’s law; but I see another law at work in me, waging war against the law of my mind and making me a prisoner of the law of sin at work within me. What a wretched man I am! —Romans 7:15–24 (NIV)
What can be done to quiet the chatter, the arguments, the persistent clatter and narrative conflicts in the head and heart?
A good first step is to identify which conflicts are likely resolvable. Acknowledgment and familiarity with our busy mind brings the realistic recognition that we are active problem solvers who absorb information and process events with thoughts, feelings, and previous learning. We will always have new and opposing thoughts and feelings—that is the hallmark of effective mental activity. But we need not become overwhelmed, stuck, or obsessive about opposing ideas and feelings.
Sorting out and evaluating the conflicts you struggle with can leave you with less to mull over once you assess and accept which (and there will be some) conflicts you just have to endure.
Many conflicts are resistant to solution due to incompatible values, goals, or competing circumstances. In such instances, avoid blatant hostility or aggression, conserve your energy and resources, and focus on the things you can change or resolve.
To develop resilience and ward off conflict, it’s helpful to know your brain’s tendencies and which parts tend to prevail. Is your logical brain the side that’s hardest to pacify? Or is it your emotional brain that vies for dominance and superordinate attention? Recognize your preference or tendency to dwell on or favor brain dominance. Conflict within may be resolvable or at least tolerable when you can settle the differences in your brain’s competition within itself.
Identify the parts of your brain presenting the more compelling case the hardest to palliate or appease—the loudest, most demanding or imposing. Consider whether the distress is a function of one part of your neurophysiology demanding prominence and how you can get your hemispheres and organelles to work together or take a back seat while you make decisions. Address those brain demands and take charge and direct them by imposing order and precedence.
Take time out to reflect upon your reactivity. Monitor your “go-to” responses and give credence to your habits and styles of processing information.
Ask yourself: What emotions rush to the forefront? How can I subdue them?
Consider if you might be misinterpreting or misattributing motivation or intention. Ask yourself hypothetically: Is another interpretation possible?
When someone perplexes or crosses you, reflect upon whether the behavior in or out of character. Apply this principle also when events don’t unfold as you expect them to, based upon your past experience.
When you have conflicting information, ask: What is the preponderance of evidence? Get in the habit of discerning and favoring facts.
Recognize that you are present and participating in the conflict within your mind. Determine your own context for perceiving and participating in the presenting conflict. Taking ownership and assuming accountability for your mind’s activity facilitates the integration of your brain’s disparate tendencies. Mediate the different talents and functions of your brain. When emotions and analysis recognize who is boss, they are more likely to work together.
When inner turmoil presses you, ask yourself: What will happen (has happened) if I ignore or respond in certain ways (probability of outcomes)?
How important is it for me to actively attend to or resolve this? What are the costs?
As you evaluate, mediate, and decide how to deal with conflicts within and that might spill over to others, consider the following:
Use the effective tools available to heal trauma and reduce or eliminate negative emotions. learn to separate traumas from grievances. Conflicts are much more amenable to resolution once traumatic restimulations are put to rest. (Refer to my website and writings on this important domain.)
Your peace of mind will augment in proportion to your subjugation of righteous indignation—the prideful tendency to take umbrage or offense when you are mistreated or things don’t go your way.
Develop and admire your mind’s capacity to tolerate some tension and indecision. There are periods when this is necessary.
Practice the art of permeability: the habit of allowing circumstances to pass through your narrative so that you do not have to become attached to them. Essentially, permeability is the ability to exercise detachment, to allow the mantra, “This, too, shall pass,” to comfort and replace any distress resulting from an involvement with something frustrating, painful, oppressive, or that causes suffering. As you develop permeability, practice the skill of adjusting your perspective and reactions, so that setbacks, frustrations, and disappointments do not become excessively disruptive. This capacity not to “sweat the small stuff,” but instead to react objectively and detach from taking things too personally is essential. When you have permeability, you are able to let things that detract from intactness “pass though” your filters of overreactions and ego sensitivity.
Permeability is a great antidote to the desires that can’t or shouldn’t be satisfied. Note that permeability is far different from willpower. Permeability involves choice, often at a conscious level, but it is not a white-knuckled battle against a strong adversary. Permeability applies the exercise of acceptance of the desire, with its attendant sense of deprivation and preoccupation, while acknowledging the conflict created by living with an unsatisfied yearning. Permeability is about becoming larger than the desires and frustrations tugging at you. It takes you into the surprisingly satisfying realm of living under conditions that are unfavorable to you, yet does not rob you of your sense of wholeness or living intact. Permeability is a state in which you remember gratification and anticipate it in the future but are able to do without it for the time being—that is, right now! (I like to think of living contentedly in the present as being able to tolerate the condition of NO to all the things I really want while still having a big W because I am winning—that’s living intact in the NOW!)
If your conscience is bothering you, you are not at peace.
The concept of “conscience,” as commonly referred to in its moral sense, is the inherent ability of a healthy human being to perceive what is right and what is wrong and, on the strength of this perception, to control, monitor, evaluate, and execute their actions. Conscience involves an inner feeling or voice acting as a guide to the rightness or wrongness of one’s behavior.
Conscience depends upon measurement of whether one’s behaviors and impulses conform to their own standards of right and wrong. These standards may vary according to one’s values and religious or cultural precepts. Nonetheless, whatever standards with which they are judged, conscience invokes the concept and actuality of guilt. Conscience nags when one feels or believes oneself to be guilty.
Conscience comes into play when one is aware of their own behaviors that cross the line into the domain of wrongness. Conscience invokes a number of negative feelings, such as shame, embarrassment, self-loathing. But the principle negative feeling that drives conscience is fear—the palpable anxiety of being found out, exposed, and possibly punished for one’s transgressions. Fear is a primal emotion that we need for survival. It can also extend into projected or imaginal scenarios that instigate a threat (perceived or actual). When bothered by conscience, one has a sense of guilt about doing or wanting to do something wrong.
It’s important to distinguish between true guilt and false guilt.
True guilt is the awareness or existence of a feeling, behavior, or intent related to doing or having done something wrong; and true guilt is usually accompanied by a feeling of anxiety, shame, or regret. True guilt is identified by the conviction or acceptance that one’s actions, feelings, or intentions are wrong according to a doctrine of law or truth. True guilt may also be labeled actual.
False guilt is also the awareness of a feeling, behavior, or intent accompanied by a feeling of anxiety, shame, or regret, but is distinguished from true guilt by the absence of a transgression—that is, false guilt feels like did or might do something wrong, even when you did not commit an actual transgression. False guilt is not “pretend” because, unlike pretending, false guilt carries no recognition that the feeling and its circumstances are make-believe. They seem real and feel real, though they are not. False guilt may also be labeled imagined.
When you clear your mind of guilt—either by confession and resolving to reform, or by relieving yourself of the unnecessary burden of false guilt—you will do away with oppressing conflict and distress.
While some people are (or seem) very self-confident, and a small percentage of folks are overconfident or even narcissistic, a high percentage of people suffer from lack of confidence or low self-esteem. People who struggle with psychological identity issues put great emotional effort into hiding their insecurities and anxieties. They often feel transparent or exposed, believing or worrying that others can easily see their flaws and deficiencies.
When people think that others may see through their veneer, they experience a distressing incongruence between their projected self and who they think they really are. This experience of discrepancy or false self has become known as imposter syndrome—a persistent condition of feeling anxious and not experiencing success internally, despite being high-performing in external, objective ways. The condition often results in people feeling like “a fraud” or “a phony” and doubting their abilities. Imposter syndrome is the persistent inability to believe that one’s success is deserved or has been legitimately achieved as a result of one’s own efforts or skills.
Fearing that one may be exposed and embarrassed creates intense and persistent anxiety. Bearing in mind that anxiety is a physiological response coupled with (and justified by) thoughts, the triggers or themes of recurring anxiety are incidental to and overshadowed by the physiological onslaught. Nevertheless, imposter syndrome brings into play more basic underlying fears and recapitulating themes of fragmented and fragile identity.
If you are living a “double life” because of some illegitimate activity in which you are engaged, then you need to clean it up. Otherwise, work on freeing yourself from the anxiety induced by fearing that others are misled by your self-perceived misrepresentation. conscience (For more on this topic, see in my book, Overcome Anxiety: Break Free From Fear, Worry, Trauma, and Negative Thinking).
Reductionism is a philosophical and logical approach to analyzing or describing complex phenomena by deconstructing them into simpler or more fundamental parts. A reductionist view seeks to filter out extraneous information in order to clarify the main issue or problem. It tends to be a “black or white” approach.
In venturing to elucidate how conflicts in the mind arise and persist and what to do about them, it is tempting to fall prey to an overly narrow reductionist view. But our minds are quite complicated; partitioning the origination of conflicts into the categories listed herein is meant to help you better understand your inner experiences and organize your interpretation of conflicting thoughts and feelings.
Nonetheless, it is prudent to consider that no single approach or categorization is likely to shed light on the entire mysterious marvel that comprises you and your brain.
Sow a thought, reap an action; sow an action, reap a habit;
sow a habit, reap a character; sow a character, reap a destiny.
— Mark Steinberg, PhD
