Don't Believe Everything You Think: Choosing Meaning Over Mental Chatter
- Bobby Jakucs, Psy.D.
- Jul 19
- 12 min read
Updated: Jul 22
“If you can dream and not make dreams your master/ If you can think and not make thoughts your aim/ if you can meet with Triumph and Disaster, and treat those two imposters just the same”
– Rudyard Kipling, "If-"
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The Tyranny of Thought
Have you ever had a song stuck in your head? Maybe it’s a catchy pop tune with a great beat, or, if you’re a parent, perhaps it’s a children’s song that feels like it could qualify as cruel and unusual punishment. While those earworms are irritating, they’re mostly harmless. Thoughts, however—especially painful ones like 'I’m not good enough,' 'No one loves me,' or 'What’s the point?'—can be far more insidious. Unlike a song, these thoughts don’t simply fade. They can derail a day, a week, or even entire seasons of our lives, leading to patterns of avoidance, inaction, and despair.
These intrusive thoughts can dictate our actions. If we listen to them long enough, they often steer us away from what we value. Sometimes, they lead to dreaded inaction—feeling stuck, unsure how to move forward, or even how to climb out of the hole we’re in. Over time, they create a vicious cycle: we avoid risks, withdraw from relationships, and stop pursuing goals, inadvertently proving the negative thoughts right.
Thoughts like this can dictate our actions. If we listen to the record playing in our head, we can do all sorts of things that move us farther from what we value. Sometimes, they can lead us to a dreaded inaction – stuck and unsure where to go or even how to get out of the hole we are in. Thoughts like those above oftentimes lead us to not take risks, not pursue goals or connect to others. It then creates a cascading spiral and we oftentimes end up proving the thought correct.
But what if the content of our thoughts mattered less than the direction they lead us? Think about it: you hear advertisements, news, gossip, but you don’t act on every bit of information your ears pick up. There’s timeless wisdom in the saying, “Don’t believe everything you hear.” What if we applied the same principle to that often unhelpful thought factory between our ears? What if we could learn to not believe everything we think?
This post will explore just that. We will:
Examine the nature of thoughts in light of psychological theory, the wisdom tradition and the Catholic faith
Look at ways to get a little space from our thoughts to gain a different perspective and relationship to them
Examine how we can still pursue meaningful, Grace filled and life-affirming action despite what the mind says
Story Spotlight: Clayton Kershaw and the Voice of Doubt
Negative thoughts often don’t spring up out of nowhere. They usually grow from early experiences—with caregivers, friends, or peers—especially from moments of shame, embarrassment, guilt, or sadness. In trying to make sense of painful or senseless events, we form stories about ourselves: “I’m not good enough.” These stories can stick, shaping our behavior long after the events have passed.
Consider Clayton Kershaw, the celebrated Los Angeles Dodgers pitcher and one of the most gifted players in baseball. A three-time Cy Young Award winner, 2014 National League MVP, and 10-time All-Star, Kershaw has accumulated over 2,900 career strikeouts, more than 200 wins, and a lifetime ERA under 2.50—placing him among the greatest pitchers in MLB history. But Kershaw wasn’t born a professional athlete. He played Little League, excelled in high school, and climbed steadily through the ranks to the majors.
Baseball is notoriously difficult—even the best pitchers blow plays, games, or entire seasons. Surely, at some point in his career, Kershaw faced the thought: “I’m not good enough.” Perhaps it came after giving up a string of runs, loading the bases, or watching a grand slam sail over the fence. What if Kershaw had believed that thought? What if, as Acceptance and Commitment Therapy (ACT) describes, he had fused with it—becoming the thought “I’m not good enough”? He might never have pursued his dreams, honed his craft, or stepped onto a major league mound.
When we allow the stories, even if there is some truth to them, dominate our lives they prevent us from living out our purpose. And that’s really the point. we risk abandoning our potential when we take our negative thoughts at face value. After all, St. Catherine of Siena said, “be who God meant you to be an you will set the world on fire.” This from a woman who did not learn to read until she was 16. It did not stop her from admonishing bishops, preaching and ultimately becoming a Doctor of the Church.
When we get fused to our own painful stories and negative thoughts, the fire inside our hearts grows cold. We weren’t meant for that. We were meant to be mighty bonfires.
Thoughts as Passengers on the Bus
A core metaphor from ACT here is very helpful. Have you ever been on a bus? If you have there are all kinds of people that get on. Many are just doing their thing trying to get wherever they are going. But often times you will get passengers who are loudly talking on their phones. Or bumping into other people. Some may be having very loud and in-depth conversations with people who don’t happen to be there. On any given bus, an assortment of people are constantly getting on and getting off at each stop.
While all of this business is going on inside the bus you might be wondering what the bus driver is doing. Well, he is simply driving the bus. He has his route schedule and his assigned stop. He does not stop and argue with every unpleasant passenger that gets on. He does not jump off the bus when a rowdy passenger comes on. And he certainly never lets any of them behind the wheel of the bus. No, he simply keeps driving, makes his stops and lets the passengers get on and off where they do. (adapted from Get Out of Your Mind and Into Your Life by Steven Hayes)
In your life you are the bus driver. Your painful, shameful, fearful, jealous, angry and often loud thoughts are the passengers. By learning how to get some space from our thoughts we can actually learn to act more and more like the bus driver in our own lives. Not running from every painful thought that comes are way, and certainly not letting them behind the wheel.
My good friend and colleague, Josh Buch, tells his patients a variation of this metaphor that I really love.
Imagine you're watching a horror movie. You get really engrossed in it. The lights are down low, the scary images flash on the scene, the characters are terrified. And you also feel that way. You feel as though the movie is real, like you are living it. And that’s often how our thoughts are – the shameful ones, the regrets, the mistakes we run over and over.
But what happens if as you are watching, your friend walks in, flips on the lights and says “hey sorry to pull you from the movie but we’re ordering Thai food later, what do you want - pad thai or something else?” The movie is still running in the background, the TV is still on, but now you engage with your friend and start telling him about what you want. You might even then get up, go get a snack, use the restroom, talk to him about this thing or that thing. All while the movie is running. What your friend did with the movie – and what we can learn to do with our own thoughts – is name it, create some space and distance, and act in a way that aligns with you, not your mind’s movie.
Plato’s Cave and Stoic Wisdom: Thoughts Are Opinions, Not Facts
The Ancient Greeks and Romans did not have buses or movies like we do, but like us they did have minds. And they understood well that our thoughts are not facts. They are opinions.
Plato in the Republic used the analogy of a cave. That we often times go through life as though we are chained to the wall of a cave. And that behind us a bonfire is lit and images are displayed on the wall ahead of us. We watch these shadows on the wall and believe they are real life. But really they are just silhouettes of objects, not even the real things. And, this is all taking place inside a cave - it’s not even the outside world!
Our thoughts are like that. The things we either ruminate on (the past) or worry about (the future) are not even happening in the present. They are things that did happen or may happen. Meanwhile the outside world goes on around us. Outside the cave of our minds.
The Stoics also understood this concept well. That often times there is a wide gap between external reality and our judgements and thoughts about that reality.
In Letter 13 of his collected letters to a mentee, Seneca writes, “There are more things Lucilius, likely to frighten us than there are to crush us; we suffer more often in imagination than in reality.” Epictetus in the Enchiridion (Chapter five) says, “It is not things that trouble us, but our judgements about things.” Our minds often bring unnecessary suffering before any real or perceived events actually occur.
Rather, the Stoics, and modern ACT instead emphasize that we practice virtue (Stoics) and values (ACT) in a situation, rather than rely on the thoughts and opinions our minds generate. What if we treated thoughts less as facts and more looking at whether listening to them moved us closer to the life we want?
Function Over Content: What Matters Is Where It Leads
Certain thoughts innately will lead us to growth. Others will lead us towards paralysis. Two people can experience the same event and walk away with very different perceptions.
Imagine two friends eating at the same restaurant, ordering the same food, experiencing the same conversation. But, they can interpret the experience in very different ways – Friend A may approach it with gratitude, “what a wonderful meal! I got to see my friend, enjoy good company and have delicious food!” Friend B, may say, “I wish I had more friends, instead I had to spend time with this guy. And the food, so plain! I'll probably get indigestion later.”
Both Friend A and Friend B had a very, near identical experience. One’s interpretation drew him closer to connection, gratitude and grace (Friend A) and one pushed him further into loneliness, bitterness and despair (Friend B). One was grateful to be out of the cave and enjoy the fresh air (Friend A) the other was upset that the shadows on the wall were going to slowly (Friend B).
This does not just apply to going out to dinner. In Man’s Search for Meaning Viktor Frankl reminds us that this same attitude can be cultivated regardless of the circumstances. In fact, it is paramount to survival and human flourishing. He writes that, “between stimulus and response there is a space.” In that space we have the capacity to decide whether to pursue thoughts or pursue values. As these two are not inherently linked. Sounds like Friend B in the example above actually very much values connection (otherwise he would not be upset that he was lonely). But he allowed himself to get caught up in thoughts that moved him further and further from that value.
In the Happiness Trap, psychologist Russ Harris calls this “getting hooked” on our thoughts. We allow a thought, or series of thoughts or a whole story, to sweep us away further and further from the moment and further and further from the person we want to be and the values we hold dear.
We might get so hooked on a thought or a feeling that we allow a simple argument to become a catastrophe, or a judgement about “the right way” to do the dishes, clean up the toys, or even close a door, to become an all or nothing battle. In The Hills We Choose to Die on we examined how this phenomenon can lead us to fight the wrong battles. We might win that battle – but if it moves us from the man or woman we are meant to be, is it worth it?
Practical Reflection: Observing and Defusing Thoughts
Thankfully, we are not powerless against intrusive or painful thoughts. There is a sacred gap between stimulus and response—a space where freedom and choice reside. ACT calls this process defusion. Through this process we can step back from our thoughts and see them for what they are: mental events, not ultimate truths, commands or marching orders. In that space, we can choose to act with courage and intention.
Think of standing on a busy street corner, watching cars go by. Each car represents a thought—some loud and flashy, others slow and familiar. Defusion invites us to observe these cars without chasing them or trying to stop traffic. We simply let them pass, keeping our attention on the destination ahead.
Here’s a four-step process to cultivate this mindset:
1. Notice – Begin by noticing thoughts as they arise. Observe them like clouds drifting across the sky or leaves floating down a stream. You don’t need to engage; your role is to watch with curiosity.
2. Name – Label the thought to create distance: “Ah, there’s the ‘I’m not good enough’ story again.” This simple act of naming can loosen its emotional grip.
3. Evaluate – Ask yourself: Is this thought helpful? Does it bring me closer to my values—toward love, connection, and purpose—or away from them?
4. Act – Take a small, values-aligned step forward, even if the thought persists. Choosing action based on what matters to you—not on the noise in your head—is a profound act of courage.
Practiced regularly, these steps help us unhook from unhelpful mental loops and live with greater peace and presence.
Making Space for the Voice That Matters
From the lens of the Christian faith, we can also ask – does a thought lead me closer or further from God? We as Christians are told to “take every thought captive to obey Christ” (2 Corinthians 10:5). Not just some thoughts, not just thoughts that are easy to let go, but every thought. Why? Because so many times that little comfort seeking and safety driven machine between our ears leads us to places that drive us further from who we truly our. We are to remember that we are made in the image of God – not what the story in our head tells us.
Moreover, when our mind is churning with thoughts and our hearts are restless with anxiety, we become less attuned to the working of God in our lives. We lean more on our own, very flawed understanding, and not on His. Fr. Jaque Phillipe illustrates this beautifully in Searching for and Maintaining Peace where he writes:
“Consider the surface of a lake, above which the sun is shining. If the surface of the lake is peaceful and tranquil, the sun will be reflected in this lake...it is a little bit like this with regard to our soul in relationship to God.”
When we learn to let thoughts go, we are more able to let God’s presence and peace shine through clearly. As the passengers get off the bus, we can make more space for Him to take a seat. Even better, we can learn to let Him, and not our anxious, fearful, shameful, jealous or angry thoughts take the wheel.
This requires discernment. By spending time with Scripture, in prayer, in Adoration and certainly at Mass, we can engage in that relationship with God and better become acquainted with what He is saying. By actively seeking him in this way, or engaging in formal processes like the Examen we can learn to tune out our mental chatter and listen for the only voice that truly matters, His. And Scripture says it’s not going to be in the fire or the thunder, but in the gentle whisper - in the sacred silence (1 Kings 19:11-12). How much better we would be if we listened intently for that soft voice!
Be the Driver
At the end of the day, you are not the chatter in your mind. You are not the doubts, fears, or regrets riding noisily in the back row. You are the one holding the wheel, choosing which roads to take and which destinations to pursue.
By letting go of the need to wrestle with every thought, we create space for clarity and peace. This isn’t about silencing the passengers—they may never stop talking. It’s about deciding who gets to drive.
When we choose to anchor ourselves in our values and in God’s grace, we find the courage to steer toward a life that matters. Each small action in the direction of love and purpose becomes an act of defiance against the noise.
So take the wheel.
Let the passengers chatter if they must.
But remember: you are free to choose the road ahead.
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