When The brain Wants An Answer
Humans question things. We wonder why something happened, what something means, whether what we have been told is true, and sometimes even about the nature of reality itself.
There is nothing inherently wrong with this. In fact, our brains are built to question, predict, compare and make sense of the world around us. It is when this wondering turns into anxiety that it becomes concerning.
The Brain Is Always Making Predictions
The brain does not simply receive information from the world like a camera recording what is there. It takes information coming in through our senses and combines it with memory, past experiences, expectations and what we already believe to create its best understanding of what is happening.
In neuroscience, this is sometimes described through predictive processing. The brain is continually making predictions about what it expects to experience and comparing those predictions with the information it receives.
Most of the time, we aren't consciously aware that this is happening. But occasionally something doesn't fit. A new idea challenges something we believed was true. Someone behaves in a way we don't understand. We encounter information we can't easily explain. Or perhaps we simply begin asking questions for which there are no easy answers.
And suddenly the brain has a problem it wants to solve.
When Curiosity Becomes Uncertainty
Curiosity might lead us to explore.
Why do people believe this?
What evidence is there?
What do I believe?
How do I know what is true?
But some questions lead to more questions rather than answers. The brain searches for certainty and instead finds another possibility. Then another explanation. Then another question.
For a nervous system that relies partly upon prediction to help determine what is safe. Prolonged uncertainty can begin to feel uncomfortable. The question itself may not be the problem. It might be the underlying need to find an answer that keeps the nervous system activated.
When the Brain Fills in the Blanks
Uncertainty is due to missing information. When something doesn't make sense, our brains naturally begin making inferences from the information we do have. We combine what we observe with those memories, previous experiences, expectations and what we already know about the world.
Sometimes the conclusions we reach are accurate. Sometimes they aren't.
Imagine someone's words and behavior aren't matching. Perhaps they are withholding information, behaving differently or giving explanations that don't quite make sense. We may accurately notice that something is inconsistent without actually knowing why.
But the brain still wants an explanation
Maybe they don't love me anymore.
Maybe they are hiding something much bigger.
Maybe I did something wrong.
Maybe I'm about to be left.
Now the uncertainty has a story. And that story can produce very real emotions and very real sensations in the body, even though we still don't know whether our explanation is correct.
For someone whose past experiences have taught them that unpredictability sometimes precedes hurt, the brain may be especially likely to consider explanations involving danger, rejection or loss. This is where listening to the body requires a little discernment.
The body may accurately recognize that something feels uncertain without knowing what that uncertainty means.
Perhaps the invitation isn't to dismiss the sensation or immediately believe the story that follows it. We can become curious about both.
What am I actually noticing?
What do I know?
What am I assuming?
What story have I created to explain what I don't yet know?
Our body's response is information worth listening to. Our interpretation of that information can remain open to question.
When the Worry Loop Begins
Once uncertainty begins to feel threatening, thinking can shift from curiosity toward worry. We search for more information, replay what we have already learned, imagine different possibilities, or maybe try to find the missing piece that will finally allow us to say, Okay. Now I understand.
But if the question cannot be completely resolved, the brain may keep searching and the body can begin participating in that search. Muscles may tighten. Breathing may change. The heart may beat a little faster. The stomach may feel unsettled. We may become restless, vigilant or have difficulty sleeping. Then those sensations provide the brain with even more information to interpret.
Why do I feel this way?
Is there something I should be worried about?
Maybe I haven't figured this out yet.
And around we go.
Uncertainty feeds thought. Thought increases activation. Activation creates sensations. Those sensations can then become something else for the brain to worry about.
The story may not be true. The sensations are still real.
Sensation Is Not Necessarily Interpretation
I think this is an important distinction when we begin learning to listen to the body. Our nervous system may recognize that something is different, unpredictable or uncertain without knowing what that difference means. We can feel uneasy around someone and pay attention to that feeling. But the feeling itself cannot tell us exactly why we feel uneasy. This is where both awareness and discernment come into play to help with interpretation. Become aware and take a moment to ask questions like:
What am I actually noticing?
What do I know?
What am I predicting?
What story have I created to explain what I don't know?
This begins the process of discernment.
Listening to the body doesn't require us to dismiss what we feel. It also doesn't require us to believe every explanation our mind creates for the feeling. Perhaps sometimes the most accurate answer is simply:
Something feels uncertain, and I don't know what it means yet.
We May Not Need to Find the Answer
Sometimes the way out isn't finding the perfect answer. It may be noticing that we have moved from wondering into needing to know. Gently bringing some of our attention away from the unanswered question and toward information available to us in the moment may help break the loop.
The feeling of our feet against the ground.
The temperature of the air.
The sound of wind moving through the trees.
The smell of the ocean or the redwoods.
The warmth of sunlight against our skin.
The tomato ripening in the garden.
These experiences don't answer life's enormous questions and they don't need to. They give the nervous system something different from an abstract problem to process: present sensory information.
Perhaps we can remain curious about the things we don't understand while also allowing ourselves to live among the things we can experience directly. We don't have to stop questioning. We may simply need to notice when the search for certainty is asking our bodies to carry the question.
Humans question things. We wonder why something happened, what something means, whether what we have been told is true, and sometimes even about the nature of reality itself.