The Power of the Second Thought

You know how your first thought (in reaction to a situation, person, stimulus, utterance, etc) can sometimes be horrible, confusing, or at least regrettable? You hear about something that happened to someone, and you get this terrible inner tug towards curiosity or delight. Or, you see a certain person, and your first thought floats up from the muddy pond of your mind with unavoidable clarity, like a prejudiced magic 8 ball. That we have these first thoughts is proof that we are all biased, culturally-formed beings.

 Here’s the thing: our first thoughts are not us; they have much more to do with our cultural and social conditioning than our values, personalities, or souls. Capitalism teaches us, over the decades, to be in competition with each other. It delivers us the first thought that has to do with glee at others’ misfortune: break-ups, lay-offs, health issues. It wants us to see ourselves and others’ worth as tied to productivity and wealth. It wants us to write humans off lacking inherent values. Sexism and the patriarchy gifts us the first thoughts that deal with labelling women (slut, virgin, etc), casting off certain groups of women, and a misplaced competitive spirit with our closest friends. It is indeed uncomfortable to recognize that initial knee-jerk reaction to a good friend’s bad news. This is where it comes from. White supremacy gives us its corresponding first thought that flashes negative racial imagery and stereotypes as we navigate through daily life. A pernicious mix of White supremacy, misogyny, capitalism, and racism coalesce to deliver our first thoughts about self-hatred, self-distrust, or shame. Messages drift up to our inner goddesses to tell us that we are perhaps too fat, lazy, unproductive, or stupid. We are inundated with shame and confusion, as our beauty sits patiently right in front of us, waiting to be recognized.

 To be clear: this is part of the human condition. We all have first thoughts; we all have biases; we all struggle to find self-worth in the face of our conditioning. Where we might part is in how we perceive this first thought; many of us are able to shrug it off (‘that was weird), and move on. Others get stuck on it. The first thought, whatever its current manifestation, seems to symbolize who we are. We sink even lower in our self-estimation. It becomes harder to commit to self-growth and fight for justice when we are caught in this cycle.

 So, in the pause after our first thought surfaces in the pond of our brain and then dissolves back into nothingness, something potentially revolutionary happens: we have a second thought. And then a third. These subsequent thoughts often fight back against the current of whatever cultural conditioned reaction we have just experienced. Our second thought is our true self, what we believe & value, not what we’ve been fed through media, school, and society. Our first thought of racial bias, once dissolved back into the sludge where it belongs, is erased and counteracted by who we want to be and what we want to stand for. Our second thought is our best and highest self. Our first thought is an alien invader with a tacky laser gun.

 Like all practices, it can be hard, but incredibly worthwhile and life-affirming, to pay attention to your first thoughts. Notice them, label them, give yourself a moment to breathe until they fall away. Then, listen even more closely to what you bring next. In the pause that follows, listen for yourself. The second thought will come, as it always does. It may not be crystal clear or strong or loud or aggressive; it may feel ‘forced’ or natural or quiet as breathing. We must make space for it, best as we can, knowing that it’s swimming upstream like hungry salmon. It’s miraculous yet completely ordinary. It’s easy to miss if you aren’t seeking it.

 Place yourself in front of a mirror. Look at yourself for a minute and see what comes up, maybe a murmur about your wrinkles or hair or weight. It might be hard to catch, but catch it, we must. First thoughts, when visible and labelled, lose their potency. They become something we can notice, not something that defines our experience or life. Breathe. Wait until they dissolve. Your face will still be there, your beautiful skin that has marched through the years. What is your second thought? The second thought is pure gentleness mixed with your most potent values. It is you, over and over.

 Imagine how the way you see your body could change. Imagine how the way you see and treat yourself could change. Imagine how the way you see others could change. Imagine how the way you envision and enact solidarity and struggle could change. Imagine the way that you could show up, for yourself, your family, loved ones, and community. Harvesting the gentle, self-affirming power of the second thought is a sustainable tool for social change (and self-change).